Category Archives: illness

Real Life is Stranger than Fiction

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Alternate title: Frustration on the Job.

This is the transcript from an actual phone conversation Chuck had recently.

“Hello, this is K at Television Parts & Parts.  How may I help you?”

Hi this is Chuck from W-blank-blank-blank out in Green Bay, Wisconsin.  I need to place an order for a part please.

“OK, the guy you need to talk to is busy and can’t help you right now…And it’s me.  Can I forward you to my voicemail?  Please leave a message and I’ll call you back next time I’m in.”

Ummm…OK.

Click, Ring, Click, Recorded voice…

“Hello, this is K at Television Parts & Parts.  I’m not in right now, please leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.”  Beep.

Hi this is Chuck from W— out in Green Bay, Wisconsin.  I need to place an order for a part please.

You can call me back at ###-###-####.

Later, my phone rings…

Hello, W-blank-blank-blank Engineering, this is Chuck.

“Hello, this is K at Television Parts & Parts.  How may I help you?”

Hi, thanks for calling back, I’m with W-blankety-blank-blank out in Green Bay, Wisconsin.  I need to place an order for a part please.

Truth is indeed stranger than fiction, at least in the television world. Meanwhile, back at my own workplace, I received the following email from Chuck.

Just got call from contractor.  He’s going to start 7:30 Wednesday morning.

My Wednesday is crowding up.  It’s becoming The Time Nexus; the day through which all other events must pass through.

I may need your help Tuesday evening as I deflect at least one black hole.  I’ll buy you dinner at the Restaurant at the Edge of the Universe.

Well, my friends, life changed very quickly. Chuck developed a sudden excruciating pain that turned out to be a kidney stone or two, and his coworkers ended up handling the Black Hole in the Time Nexus. We waited until he was feeling better, and then we did visit a restaurant – one near home, not at the end of the universe. After a salad with bacon dressing followed by pumpkin bread pudding, both of us felt ready to face the big bad world again.

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The Mane Attraction: Encore, updated

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It’s happening again, dear readers. A coworker and close friend starts radiation today to treat breast cancer. She’s a very strong woman, and the entire office is throwing our moral support her way.

Remember the Lions of the Valley project? More than a few years have passed since The Lion King made its appearance in our fair city. Here is one example of creativity and caring. Another friend and coworker teamed up with another artist friend to decorate this fiberglass lion. The lion’s title is lengthy, but straight to the point: Breast Cancer Survivors: Not an Endangered Species.”

It’s now several years later, and the lion is still pink, I think. It’s been moved from its former sponsor to a hospital’s entrance, and the pictures have been painted over. I’m a little sad about that. It was the humanity of the design that made it work for me. But in any case, the lion still lives, and so do many multitudes of those who had breast cancer. Had. Past tense.

Did I mention that I know four of the women pictured on the lion? Eat your heart out, Jeff Probst — these women are the real survivors.

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Flu Family History

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I was searching and sorting and purging a pile of papers and I found this, a predecessor to Monday’s post. It’s on a scrap of yellow legal pad, so it probably rose from the ashes of a school staff meeting or staff development. This piece wasn’t for the CDC. In fact, I’m pretty sure I wrote it pre-blog. To make it current, it would need almost no changes.

You know the flu has taken over when:

  • Chicken soup and cinnamon toast make a meal.
  • The phone rings and the teenager doesn’t move.
  • The blind family member identifies people by their coughs rather than their voices.
  • The dishwasher is full of glasses and bowls because no one is eating real meals.
  • Each sick person carries around his/her own box of tissue.
  • Suddenly the supply of Tylenol and ibuprofen in the medicine cabinet looks woefully under stocked.

The above list was written with a sense of – well, something close to gallows humor, if I remember correctly. Since that year, all of us have stayed up to date on flu shots. Get your own flu vaccine, people. It’s not too late.

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Flu, flu

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We lost track of a family with two children in our school. How does a school lose track of an entire family? You see, it’s like this. We get in touch with every student and learning coach at least twice a month. We communicate in between those calls by email. We hadn’t heard from this family in a week, the learning coach hadn’t logged in for two weeks, and the students hadn’t logged in for several days and were lagging about nine days behind in their work. We left voice mails when they didn’t answer the phone. We sent emails that got no reply. Then we started to worry. Were they okay?  They didn’t live in the safest of neighborhoods. Should we send the police out for a welfare check?

When we reached their emergency contact, we found out that the entire family was down and out, and I mean really, really down and out, with this year’s strain of influenza.

It’s not over, people. That flu bug that’s been making its way through the nation is still hitting, and it’s not holding back. The Center for Disease Control is asking bloggers to pass the word: flu season is not over. It’s not too late to prepare to prevent yourself from being a victim.

Step one: Get vaccinated. Call around; if you can’t go to a doctor’s office, check with nearby pharmacies. Call the local health department and ask their advice. The current vaccine is still available.

Step two: Take common sense precautions. Every day preventive acts can help keep those germs away. Avoid sick people. Stay home if you’re sick – the office can and will run without you. Cover your nose and mouth if you sneeze or cough.

Step three; If your doctor prescribes antiviral drugs, take them. It’s worth it. They will shorten the duration of your flu, and they can lessen the symptoms.

My story above? It’s not over, either. Flu season continues to affect people across my state and across the country. This family is struggling to get to a telephone, much less log on and actively continue schooling. If the students don’t recover soon…let’s just say I’m worried. Very worried.

I’ll do what I can to support my students and their families. Readers, pass the word. It’s your job to protect yourself with a flu shot. Take care. I mean it.

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Frustration becomes Normal

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Oh, it’s time for another bout with the Clinic that Shall Not Be Named and the Pharmacy that Shall Not Be Named. This time, I’m too tired to be upset. I’m just resigned. It’s not worth it to expend any more energy on a system I can’t use effectively, one I certainly can’t change.

Day 1: Called clinic for Amigo’s New Doc regarding renewal of a prescription. We had been splitting the pills for him so he could take a lower dose, but the pill is so small the splitter doesn’t work well.

Potential solution: leave a message for doctor asking if he will renew this with a change to a lower dose.

Actual result: This type of call has to go through triage, and triage only takes phone calls between 8:30 and 4:00. I called at 4:05. No voice mail available, no human being in a position to take a message and pass it on to New Doc or his staff.

Next step: try pharmacy. Maybe they can contact New Doc through their system.

 

Day 2: Called Pharmacy that Shall Not be Named. Explained Amigo’s situation, asked about lower dose and whether they could communicate with New Doc. Yes, they could communicate with New Doc. No, a lower dose is not available. We’ll have to keep splitting pills.

Day 2, Part 2: Still talking with Pharmacy that Shall Not be Named, I asked about my medication for blood pressure. According to a note sent through the messaging system at the Clinic That Shall Not be Named, Family Doc sent a renewal to the Pharmacy That Shall Not be Named almost a month ago.

First step: Ask for a person, not a recorded phone call.

Second step: Wait on hold.

Next: Talk to pharmacy tech, who says there is no record whatsoever of a prescription coming in on that date.

Finally: Pharmacy will contact Family Doc’s office and ask questions.

Day 2, the Sequel: Brought up the My Messages account, found the message stating the prescription had been sent on the 13th. Sent another message stating that pharmacy has no record of said prescription, and asking what happened. 

Next Step: wait. Hope the new meds get settled before the current supply runs out.

Step that Cannot Be Taken: Inform Clinic That Shall Not be Named that their so-called communication system really, really stinks. Frankly, I can’t even be angry anymore. I’m just resigned to the fact that I’m stuck in the mud of a patient-unfriendly system.

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Progress in baby steps

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Ah, the canes. The candy canes are gone, the cookies (almost) eaten, the candy cane infused peppermint ice cream is history. The only canes remaining are the ones in the corner.

cane collection in a corner

Amigo’s is the long white cane with a red tip. Mine is the shorter support cane. It may look black, but it’s actually a dark green that suits my personality. I use the cane almost any time I leave the house — work, shopping (not often), appointments, etc. It’s good for me in many ways.

The news, if it’s news, is that my left side is showing signs of recovery. The neurologist (with the cool shoe wardrobe) checked my reflexes, and my left leg actually kicked. It didn’t move as much as the right does, but it moved. The last time she checked my reflexes, the left leg didn’t move at all. It just sat. This is improvement – significant improvement.

Doctor Shoes reminded me that recovery from an episode like mine, similar to stroke, can take a while. Healing a broken bone may be measured in weeks, but when nerves are healing, it’s more likely to take months. I think she saw my deep sigh at this one, because she told me to keep up PT and hang in there.

The deep sigh, however, wasn’t one of disappointment. Resignation, maybe, but also relief. Slight recovery means progress, and progress leads to more progress. Her tests confirmed what I was feeling; I feel a little stronger now than I did two weeks ago, when I felt stronger than I had two weeks before.

The cane is still my accessory, my tool for getting around. It will remain by my side and in my cubicle and in my corner. Add that to the medical pros in my corner, and I think I stand a good chance of walking to work again – sooner or later.

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Flu – You can prevent this misery.

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My dear friend’s husband is sick: sicker than ever, it seems. He suffered through a cold followed by a sinus infection and now is down for the count with (did you guess?) influenza. He’s not a complainer. He’s more likely to take care of himself and tough his way through these things. But this time, his wife is out of town, his kiddo is a teenager – a good, responsible teenager, but still a teen – and the man is miserably ill. A few of his updates will help describe the situation:

OK, a month of cold/sinus infection, just think I am over it and BOOM!!! hit with a full body aching influenza! Shoot me now. That might hurt less.

Been up four times last night. Muscles ache, head hurts feverish….. yep, still have the flu! Booooo!!!

Auughhhh! So tired of….(cough cough) being sick….<Achoo>. Sigh.

I have fought the good fight today but the plague is winning. Time for at least a two hour nap!

We offered the poor guy some help because we only live a few blocks away. He told me he’s well stocked with juice, soup, white soda, NyQuil, and pain meds. I hope he can rest enough to recover.

I don’t know, however, if he had a chance to get the flu shot. If he had, he might have had a less serious case of influenza or even fought it off completely. I know, I know, I hear you — “Time! No one has time!” Folks, it takes less time to get immunized than it does to be sick, and it’s a lot less painful.

The Center for Disease Control asked me to publicize this one more time: flu shots are still available! It’s not too late! Seasonal flu is off to an early start. With the exception of H1N1, which hit throughout the summer and fall, this is the earliest start to the annual spread of influenza since 2002.

If you, like me, are a reader and a researcher, you can visit the flu page published by the CDC. They have basic information and links to more specific subtopics. But first, I mean it. Get the influenza vaccine. I got mine at a local pharmacy. So did my adult children, with almost no prompting from me. Get the flu shot, and then you can stock up on white soda, soup, juice, and anti-inflammatory meds. You can always share your supplies with those who do get sick.

This is not a sponsored post. A representative from the CDC contacted me and asked if I would post a reminder that it’s not too late to get the vaccine. If you have any doubts, readers, call your doctor. Between the two of you, you’ll be able to make an educated decision and get the shot quickly and efficiently. 

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Cane, not candy

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The physical therapist rattled off several reasons why using a cane would be a good idea while I’m recovering from the stroke-that-wasn’t that weakened my left side. I promptly forgot most of the reasons, but I did remember how to properly size the cane and how to use it correctly. Here is my version of the top ten reasons Daisy should use a cane. I’m sure you can figure out which reasons came from the PT and which came from my own mind.

10. Amigo is no longer the only cane user in the family.

9. I can wrap red ribbon around it for the holiday season.

8. Using a cane will provide support and limit fatigue.

7. A cane is a handy defensive weapon.

6. It lets me rationalize using the elevator.

5. The cane prevents me from developing an odd gait that favors the weak side.

4. Along with my adorable new vintage hat, it makes me look “professorial”, according to at least one coworker.

3. It’s a great prop – allows me to break into a softshoe dance in the middle of the halls.

2. It reminds me to slow down, I might be moving too fast. I’ve got to make the morning last!

1. It’s a great fashion accessory.

 

 

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Dear world; again? So soon?

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Dear clinic that shall not be named —

I’m sure she meant it in the best possible way. I won’t assume anything, but I’ll guess that the RN in charge of messaging didn’t mean to use a commonly known text-message and IM abbreviation. She must have been unaware that there could be another interpretation. So, dear clinic, you still might want to train your personnel to be more careful with their shortcuts, lest they tell an already frustrated patient to do this.

“Please call our office to schedule this f/u appt.”

Okay, Readers, here’s the rest of the story. As I make arrangements for multiple appointments, including another MRI for my neck and the start of a potentially lengthy series of Physical Therapy, I’m doing my absolute best to schedule at the beginning or end of a school day so I can get away with using less sick time. I used up years of accrued sick days in order to take a significant leave of absence in 2011. I started earning sick leave from scratch last year, so there’s not much in my sick bay at the moment. Dealing with cataract surgery and attempts to see a psychiatric nurse practitioner who only worked from 8 to 3 weekdays, I withdrew plenty from that account. And that reminds me —

Dear clinic that shall not be named —

Forcing someone with a severe depression to wait seven months for psychiatric care is a bad idea. Assigning a teacher (a field known for less-than-flexible schedules) to a psychiatric nurse practitioner who doesn’t see patients after 3:00 p.m., well, is yet another poorly considered idea. So think about it, clinic, oh you-who-claim-2B-efficient. A seven month wait? A medical professional with office hours that force the patient to take time off from work every single time? Efficient? Not for the patient.

Readers, I gave up on the psychiatric care. My family physician has done well treating my depression, as well as or better than the one-who-was-not-worth-the wait. I know from past experience that I need to put myself first. In the real world of employment, however, I need to balance my doctor time with my work time. I love my work and my job, too. I’d like to stay employed there. My supervisors would like me to remain employed there, too.

I guess it would be more efficient on my end to remember that laughter is the best medicine. The next time an RN writes “f/u” in a message, I’ll just respond by ROTFLMAO. Right? Right.

 

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Cracks in the rose colored glasses

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I like to claim I’m an optimist. I see the rain barrels as half full, not half empty. I’m pleased by simple achievements.

Whatever is going on in my brain – stroke, migraine, or otherwise – makes the positive difficult to find. If I’m honest with myself, (which I’m not very often because it’s tough to face the truth that the worst may be yet to come), there are positives in this situation. Unfortunately, most of the positives are more along the lines of “At least it’s not….” which is a poor excuse for a bright side and more like a silver lining in a bank of tornado-producing thunderheads..

But here goes anyway.

I have a good ER nearby – less than 10 minutes away – which meant Chuck could leave the hospital while I was getting my MRI and make sure Amigo was doing okay (he was) and then come back to my side when the doctor had information. 

I work with compassionate people. They’re concerned, and they ask how I am, and yet no one is nosy. They accept what I’m willing to tell and respect what I don’t want to say. Within three minutes of my arrival at work this week, I had a stack of phone numbers from people willing to give me a ride to work if I feel unable to drive.

The neurologist wears awesome shoes. Dark red suede short boots with a jet black zipper center front – don’t judge me, people, I enjoy footwear. It’s a simple pleasure.

Still upsetting:

  • the inability to walk to work in nicer weather
  • the need to grab a wall or a countertop when I’m wobbling
  • the fear that the leg will fall out from under me while walking down a hallway or carrying a hot cup of coffee
  • parking in the crowded lot so I can use the elevator
  • feeling off-balance unexpectedly
  • the sheer irritation of feeling perpetually numb on one side of my face
  • the unpredictability of the weakness and wobbles in my left side overall
These make it tougher to don the rose-colored glasses each day. Optimism must be tempered with reality, and that reality is cloudy with a dense fog advisory carrying low visibility when I try to look ahead.

And yet, I feel thankful every day that the effects of this condition, whatever its name might be, have so far been purely physical. Nothing indicates cognitive trouble. My speech is clear and my language functioning is still strong. I can communicate. I can still think.

Maybe those rose-colored lenses have a little more wear left in them.

 

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