Showing posts with label health. Show all posts
Showing posts with label health. Show all posts

Sunday, June 26, 2011

Like A Phoenix Rising

I've been away for awhile. I should hope you've muddled through without me for the last few weeks. So, now that I have recuperated and reestablished my internet connection, I give you this! 


I know it isn't a very dynamic photo to accompany me back onto the scene and for that, I apologize.  I had my arthroscopy to repair my knee almost a month ago and this is what I saw through my two day post-op drug haze. My swollen foot and Joe, bathed in clutter and light.  I would drift in and out. During that time, the children were allowed to do unspeakable things to me. Zoe grew fond of licking my forehead. And then, I became constipated so I stopped taking the stupid pain pills. Things were better after that.

Now I've progressed back to my previous abnormal level of functioning. I'm going to physical therapy. But it's weird. My trainer is the manliest woman I've ever known. She is the mother of twins. I say the stupidest things because I feel so nervous with her. I've contemplated canceling tomorrow's appointment. She's so hard and I'm so soft.

So, thank you for your concern. Your good vibes have helped out. The dinners from friends and family have been delicious. I've been very active and very busy and I think I'm taking it all in stride.

Except for that whole PT thing.
I can't be perfect.

Wednesday, June 1, 2011

Snap Crackle Pop


Remember when I blew my knee out? That was almost a year ago. It's been hurty and grindy and slippy and slidey ever since. Well, tomorrow I am gettin' my torn right lateral meniscus surgerized. I choose not to dwell on the cutting. (It's arthroscopy after all!) I'm not even calling it surgery , it's the beginning of the healing process!

Now bring on the good drugs!!!

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

Who wants to rub my feet?



I am listening to a song called Fallen Peaches. It kind of goes like this...

Across the corpses on the hills
The sunset spread her flames
And her glowing fingers held me
As they dug my shallow grave

Yeah.

It's labeled Gothic Country.
And I wonder why I feel depressed sometimes!?!
Thanks, Pandora!


Sam is working on sight words. He doesn't like them and I think they're stupid.
What happened to phonics? It wurkt for me!

Sam has developed a vocal tic.
It sounds like a piece of rigid plastic caught in a bicycle spoke.
Only, Joe can't hear it. (A number of people at school have noticed it.)
How can you miss a sound like that?
He does it even while he's speaking.
It sounds like prairie dog.
It worries me.

I also found a polyp on Sam's inner cheek.
Joe can see it.
Sam says it's always been there but I don't believe him.
Certainly I would've seen it before now. Right?
But really? How many times do you check your child's buccal pouch?
It worries me.

And honestly, that song about fallen peaches worries me too.


Thursday, July 15, 2010

A Little Prick


And that, my friends, was only for one wee small child!

They are now watching Spiderwick Chronicles (Which I usually deem "too scary") and enjoying a combo of Cherry Limeade, PB&J and Vienna Sausages per their request. Who am I to judge? I can't be trusted. I told them they'd probably only get one or two shots.

Like Ms. Moon, I don't know Jack Shit.

School House Shots


I've dreaded this morning. This is the morning I take my wee small children in to get their shots. He will start Kindergarten, she will be gracing Pre-K's door. They're excited about school but not about these shots. The prospect made them chew their nails and cower when we tried to prepare them over supper last night.

Sam is on a delayed schedule due to some of his behavior tendencies. Our Doctor believes he is just quirky and I think so too. Nevertheless, we've not bombarded him in the past due to the research in Autism and Asperger's. Some of that research has proven false but we're still on the delayed schedule.

I've been tempted to go shot-free for them. I'm tempted by those log cabin kinds of ideas. But...they're my only little children and I don't want to lose them to a preventable disease. I like the idea of modern homesteading but I can't have my kids dyin' on me!

So, here I sit and type, my inner hippie and the nurse in me arm wrestling for the victory. I'm sure you have plenty of your own anxiety and things to fret over so just nod, cringe and have another swig of coffee. I have a fresh pot brewing right now.

Tuesday, June 29, 2010

Call Me Trippy



It's trippy out there tonight. The sky is flashing and rumbling like heavy equipment. The crickets, Joe's lap steel and a million fireflies compete for my senses. It's almost too much.

We took the kids to dinner with my in-laws in celebration of Zoe's birthday. We had cake. And now she has a lot of new toys with a million pieces to spare! My stomach is cramping. Damn cake.

Today's vocabulary building word is dispassionate.


Why is my husband looking at me so dispassionately? Is it the crutches?

I can't say I appreciate it.

Rollin' Along


Today, I'm kickin' it old school with the non-low profile wheelchair, Holly Hobbie bag (complete with old reefer burn), and Power Rangers grabber. I'm humbled by how much I resemble so many of my old patients. Humbled and inspired to walk independently.

I'm cautiously optimistic. I have a timeline in mind. Our vacation will no doubt be effected by my limitations. The rest of our Summer will be spent close to home. The beginning of school/work will be challenging. I am thinking realistically.

Joe, on the other hand, is embracing my paralysis of sorts. He's making plans for these "cool, skate park-like ramps off the porches. This one here could bank as you go around and with the incline.....oh, yeah, you could get some speed up...." and when I ask why we'd need those things he just shrugs and walks off and says he doesn't know. I don't know either. The last thing I need to do is build up speed, wheelchair or no.

Today, I am not afraid. I won't plan for a future of gimpiness. Well, I've always been a little gimpy.I should say I won't plan for a future of paralysis. Heck, I once dated a quad who drove me around in his van. He was the least paralyzed person I've ever known.

I don't really know what I'm trying to say other than, I can walk without my "crunches" for a short distance. I can sleep without the brace. The swelling in my foot is improving. It's better, thank you.

Sunday, June 27, 2010

Room Service


A ham sandwich and 2 quarts of (red) Crystal Light. Joe obviously does NOT want me to dehydrate up in here! This photo makes me laugh. I hope it tickles you too!

Today has been a good day. I had the wheelchair brought up from storage and it's been a lifesaver. I was able to feed the kids and load and unload the dishwasher. After I received my lovely supper in bed last night, I knew I had to begin to fend for myself. Although, I have lost 5 of the 12 lbs I've gained in the last month. Summer is hard for me. The kids eat and I eat. It's vicious. Anyway, the wheelchair is a blessing.

Our friend, Ed, brought some fruit and veggies by and sat and talked awhile. He teased me by asking if I'd collected any nice puzzle books yet. He said I was not properly convalescing if I didn't have a puzzle book. I don't. Maybe he'll bring me one. I want to recuperate fully!

I also took my first shower in three days. Boy, that was nice. Nothing like getting so fresh and so clean after you've not been for a while. I'm sure the family doesn't mind either. But my crowning achievement of the day is bearing a bit of weight. The doctor clearly stated I could if I felt I could. And I did. It wasn't bad at all. I'm very pleased.

Nothing like having the rug pulled out from you. One can't stagnate when there are so many little goals to accomplish.

*Fist Pump!*

Saturday, June 26, 2010

The Need Chronicles


I sit, I lie down, I hobble on my crutches. I've been here before. I've been worse than a little gimpy. But it's hard, going where you've already been. Some places you'd rather not tread again.

I will rest as I should. I will follow their rules. I will heal. I will be stronger than before.

Until then, I may need your help.

Friday, April 30, 2010

The Dark Side Of Skin Eruptions


Unhappy days are here.
I had a boil on my thigh.



I lanced it myself.



I chose this covering after the little DIY surgery.
I felt it was more than appropriate.



Now, let's all pray good overcomes evil.

Wednesday, July 29, 2009

Where Have All The Good Doctors Gone?

I've taken my children to the same pediatrician since they were born. He was my pediatrician. He's been practicing at least thirty-five years. Although I never felt comfortable with him, I thought my mom trusted him. He was the person in charge of all poking and prodding and invasive measures and I thought it was only natural to be a little afraid of him. I have a strange sense of loyalty that doesn't make much sense much of the time. 

Since their infancy, I've been holding little grudges against this doctor. I've thought numerous times of switching to another doctor but we don't have a bang up selection in our area. Their health insurance has also been a factor in finding another provider close by. They've never been really ill or needed to be hospitalized so I've not pushed the envelope. We show up for our well baby checks and the occasional virus and that's it. I try to be as gracious and patient as possible but I always leave a bit angry. He is curt and abrupt in his manner. He is grabby and punchy. He has no time to validate anything. He has no desire to be questioned. 

We worked hard to prepare them for the visit yesterday. We talked and held one another and spoke in hushed tones about our health and why it's important to see the doctor. We snuggled them and told them some things would hurt a bit. We asked them to try to understand it was something that must be done. And they were so brave, in turn. They gathered a menagerie of little animals to take with us to help them cope. They sucked it up and marched in like brave little soldiers. Unfortunately, the doctor and his staff decided to fight dirty.

This was our first visit since everyone became (mostly) potty trained. I was anxious because I've never had to manage them both in a bathroom while trying to collect urine in little plastic cups. The nurse snipped at me when I mentioned my anxiety as she handed the cups to me. I was chastised for making the appointment with that particular time slot if they weren't potty trained. So, I went in and my babies did a great job! I got the pee and we emerged with our heads held high. They were weighed and measured and then it was time for fingersticks to check hemoglobin. I started explaining to the kids what would happen and how it would feel. Z went first. She did...okay. No outright crying but some distress was verbalized as OW OW OWIEEEEeeeeee! S was next. S is a cautious child. He doesn't rush into anything and he needs a moment to warm up to new ideas. He backed away and was trying to stutter something out when she grabbed him and socked it to him in one fell swoop. He cried just a bit but he fell silent when she said, "You'll see a lot of blood in life, kid. You better get used to it." She left us then to wait for the doctor and stew in our own juices.

I tried to get them pumped up again. I wanted them to stay strong. The end was in sight. I explained what the doctor would do. I even showed them some of the tools he would use. They didn't seem stoked but they settled down, until the doctor opened the door. Z is afraid of him, plain and simple. She freaks out every time she sees him. From day one, she loses it. I know it. She knows it. The doctor knows it. During these times, I go to my special place. I retreat into my nurse head. Sometimes, for the overall good, one must experience things that are unpleasant and frightening. This holds doubly true for health care. When I was an ER nurse, we would get children who were the victims of abuse or terrible accidents. I would hope the act of treating some of these children was not more traumatic to them than the initial injury. You have to believe you are doing the right thing when you restrain a child for a procedure that you know could be the most terrifying thing that has ever happened to them. Personally, I was able to bear the baby screaming for it's mama because I wanted to make sure it would have the opportunity to be with her again. That and the knowledge the sedation would kick in very soon.

There were no sedatives in the doctor's office. From his actions and words, the doc needed it more than the rest of us. He instantly seemed peeved at her reaction. He grabbed her and dropped her off the table onto the floor. He told her not to have a fit. He moved on to S. He poked and prodded S.  S recoiled but did not resist and he did not cry. He flinched and ducked and the doctor just kept working him over. When he finished, he smacked Sam on the cheek and pinched his nose hard enough to make it blanch. He must be under the impression those moves constitute kidding around. Not once did he warn or educate S. Not once. 

S left the room with the nurse for his hearing test and we moved on to Z. She had a death grip on me. Her screams were deafening. He was just as gentle with her as with S. Her ear was impacted with wax and he had to remove it with a curette. It took all of us to hold her. MAMAMAMA MAMAMAMA MAMAMAMA! I put my head down close to her head and tried to use my nurse sense but she looked me in the eye and said help me. I couldn't stay quiet. I had to soothe her. They chastised me for doing so. That's when I realized that I could not be a strong advocate for my children when dealing with these people. I am still intimidated by this old worn out doctor who should've retired a long time ago. I made the decision to find a new pediatrician at once. Oh, and I got my baby off of that table.

We won't need shots for one more year so that's a plus. S passed his testing for pre-school, too! And now, I really have a new awareness of what I want from the person handling the health needs of my children. I want a doctor to handle them gently in both a physical and emotional capacity. I want someone who will talk to them. I also want someone to talk to me! I want someone to turn to me and ask about things such as diet and discipline and temperament. I want someone I can like and trust. I will not allow our needs and anxieties to be dismissed again. As a nurse and a mother, I have a keen awareness of the problems plaguing our health care system. I know it's hard to find time, patience, or money for anything these days. I am willing to compromise in most situations but this is not one of them. Any time someone complains to me about care received, I say A doctor is only as good as his or her patient. I think it's time I follow my own advice.


Tuesday, July 28, 2009

How Was It?


How was it, you say?

I'll just let this picture tell the story of the doctor's visit until I can get back to you.

Saturday, September 20, 2008

Gallbladder Gladiator

Our front office staff orders out for lunch every Friday. After much discussion, we all settled on pizza. We usually choose some combination of vegetables and call it healthy enough. Today, someone had the bright idea to order meat. I ate three slices of veggie and a few bites of pepperoni before I was too full to go on. About thirty minutes after I returned to my office, I realized that I had made a terrible mistake. My gallbladder was pissed and I knew I had precious little time to find a hole to crawl into before I died. I packed up as quickly as I could and hit the front door running. I arrived home about fifteen minutes later and ran to my bathroom. After experiencing some things I will not share with you, I collapsed into bed believing death was imminent.
Miraculously, I drifted off to sleep and when I came to, I knew the worst of it had passed. I really hope I can keep this thing at bay. The last thing I need to pencil into my busy schedule is gallbladder surgery!