Category Archives: illness

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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Life in perspective

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There’s nothing like an ER visit to put life back in perspective. Armed with a faithful husband and a sense of humor to take the edge off the worst, I wobbled into the closest hospital’s Emergency entrance last night.

The symptoms, by my estimation, had come on mid-morning. Numbness on one side of the face, shaky left leg, dizziness. I shook off concerns and stayed in my cubicle all day, and then (typical teacher) called the doctor when I got home. The nurse on call said, “ER. Definitely. Do you have someone who can drive you? Soon?” Well, yes. Chuck was pulling in the driveway moments after the call.

While the nurse was getting me wired up to the beeping and blinking equipment, she asked basic questions. “What’s your name? Do you know where you are? Do you know why you’re here? What month is it?” Was that a trick question, we asked? It was November 1st. We told everyone who treated me about my hearing impairment, and they all handled it professionally. Well, mostly professionally. This is the first time anyone has called my hearing aids “cute.”

So – I was exhausted. Chuck pointed out that I’d been fading since earlier in the week. I’d been tired, very tired, but chalked it up to stress. Campaign stress, election fears, work stress due to state testing – you name it, I’ve felt it. No, he told me, it was more than usual.

CAT scan was an odd experience – my first. Hold still? No problem. Let me doze off and we’ll all be happy. Results were normal, so ER doc talked to the neurologist on call and ordered an MRI. We got lucky with timing; the MRI tech was in house due to routine equipment testing, so they took me almost immediately. Here again, lying still was no problem. “Can I take a nap?” They thought I was kidding.

MRIs are loud, though, even to one like me. With my hearing aids out and earplugs in, the rhythms and changing tones kept me awake. Has any composer written an atonal piece based on MRI sounds? If it hasn’t been done, some talented and creative musician needs to write it.

Ultimately, all life-threatening possibilities were ruled out. No stroke or TIA, no blood clots or bleeding in the brain. My orders included an anti-dizziness medication, a day of rest instead of school, and two follow up visits: one to my family doc, and one to a neurologist.

So here I am, resting on my couch, watching MSNBC and promising myself that I’ll turn it off if bad news or campaign news becomes upsetting. I dropped a note to friends and family on Facebook and emailed my bosses and secretary after I put in for my sick day. Petunia, good mother that she is, picked up my prescription and promised to drive me to the family doc. La Petite checked in within minutes of my online update. It’s the opposite of the sandwich generation; this time, mother and daughter are taking care of the one in the middle: me.

Meanwhile, I still have that post-dental work feeling in one side of my face, and I still wobble on my left leg. I’m leaning left now literally as well as politically. As long as I do this Weeble style and wobble but avoid falling down, I can move on.

And if my blog posts sound one-sided, you know there’s yet another reason for that point of view.

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Freedom – is health part of the picture?

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I enjoy reading Chris Guillebeau’s Art of Non-Conformity blog and newsletters. His outlook on the world differs from mine only in its implementation. His writing resonates with me on many levels. A recent post titled “What is Freedom?” made me (as usual) think and analyze my situation and life.

Don’t worry, dear, I don’t plan to leave my job anytime soon. 

Freedom means different things to different people. For Chris, freedom means being self-employed and in control of his own destiny. For many in my circle of friends, freedom means security, health insurance, and the ability to pay our children’s college tuition. For my women peers, age-wise and academically similar to me, freedom means knowing we’re healthy and that we can get the treatment we need no matter what.

Regular readers know that women’s access to health care, appropriate health care, and the ability to make health care decisions based on medical needs rather than narrow-minded poorly-written legislation is — off soapbox, Daisy, this post is meant to go in another direction. It’s related, of course, but it’s not an election post (for the most part).

Regular readers also know that I’m a strong advocate of vaccines in general and influenza vaccines (flu shots). I’ve discussed the impact of a flu epidemic on local health, but let’s analyze a different angle this time: the impact of widespread illness on education.

It seems logical, and yet people forget. Anyone in a classroom full of students is vulnerable to catching the flu. Anyone, that is, including students, teachers, para-professionals, secretaries, and anyone else who breathes the same air and touches the same surfaces. And when the dominoes start to fall, each one knocks another into yet another. And then —

  • Students get behind in school.
  • Teachers adjust their instruction to accommodate multiple absences, usually slowing the pace significantly.
  • More students fall ill, falling behind, and dragging out instruction even more.
  • Teachers also become ill.
  • Substitute teachers teach in place of the regular teachers, changing the delivery of instruction and the quality of learning.
To counter this list, I offer another list. This one is from the Center for Disease Control (CDC).
  •  CDC recommends a yearly flu vaccine as the first and most important step in protecting against flu.
  • Vaccination of high-risk people is especially important to decrease their risk of severe flu illness.
  • People at high risk of serious flu complications include young children, pregnant women, people with chronic health conditions like asthma, diabetes, or heart and lung disease and people 65 years and older.
  • Symptoms of influenza can include fever, cough, sore throat, runny or stuffy nose, body aches, headache, chills and fatigue. Some people may also have vomiting and diarrhea.
  • In the United States, thousands of healthy adults and children have to visit the doctor or be hospitalized from flu complications each year. Flu vaccination can help protect you and your family from the flu and its complications.
Freedom means knowing I can get a flu shot without any hassle. My dear loving husband discussed the flu vaccine with our doctor and together they decided he didn’t need to get one. Amigo and I, however, along with La Petite, tend to be vulnerable to influenza and other respiratory illnesses. We make a habit of getting an annual flu shot. To me, with my medical history fraught with both physical and mental illnesses, good health is part of freedom.
For more information directly from the CDC,  visit www.cdc.gov/flu.

 

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Let’s move beyond Awareness.

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Breast Cancer Awareness is all over the networks – at least it’s all over ESPN, NFL Network, NBC, CBS, and Fox Sports. Guess it yet? The NFL is blowing the horn to the tune of Pink – massive pinkness in the most macho of arenas.

Pink Gatorade towels. Pink shoe covers. Pink wristbands. Pink cleats, chin straps, and ribbon decals. Pink whistles for the (real) referees, for heaven’s sake. And why?

The purpose of all this pink on the turf is supposed to make all NFL football fans think about breast cancer. Be Aware. Know it’s there.

I can’t help it. My inner cynic is screaming “Enough with the pinky dances already!” My inner cynic, for those who don’t know, is very tuned in to breast cancer in the realm of early detection through mammograms. I’m more than aware of radiation studies, chemo, reconstruction – you name it, friends and family in real life have lived it. Yes, Mom, my latest mammogram was once again normal.

Before readers denounce me as a Bah Humbug, my inner cynic must look into its own wardrobe for two (at least two) pink t-shirts designed by an art teacher who was raising money for the Avon Walk in Chicago. I also own a pink polo shirt with the Green Bay Packers logo on it and the famous pink Packers baseball cap pioneered by Deanna Favre. Both of these items sold out quickly, and not just for Deanna. We still liked Brett back then, but we who bought pink knew a significant portion of our purchase money would go toward breast cancer research.

Well, readers, you might recognize my tone already. I have contributed to breast cancer research through purchases of t-shirts, baseball caps, and just simply by donating to sponsor my amazing friends who walked the walks. So why, why would I complain about the wealthy NFL putting its pink on parade to bring attention to breast cancer for Breast Cancer Awareness?

I complain because awareness is the lowest form of knowledge. Awareness means we know it exists. Awareness means, hey, look at that guy, he’s man enough to put on pink wristbands. This pink thing must be important. What does the pink stand for again?

Awareness doesn’t mean understanding, public support, private support, or personal support. The biggest anticlimax is that all that pink doesn’t mean financial support.

I’ll pose a few questions.

The NFL plans to auction off pink gear to raise money. How much will they raise? How much do they hope to sell? What percentage of the proceeds will actually become donations? And to whom will those donations go?

How much did Gatorade spend on those towels? I’d venture a guess that it could have funded many mammograms for women who don’t have medical coverage. Those dollars might have made up for some of the bucks that Susan B. Komen foundation tried to pull from Planned Parenthood – money that funded just that.

How about those pink whistles? Cute, huh? Cute, however, doesn’t pay the bills when a woman is recuperating from reconstructive surgery. Putting the bucks directly into a fund for follow-up care would go much further than the whistle-stop campaign.

The hot pink shoes, wow, they really show up well on TV hoofin’ their way toward the end zone or during a dramatic kickoff or punt return. But again, at what cost? How much good could that money do if it were used for research toward saving lives?

Okay, NFL, you know I’m a fan. I’m a true blue green and gold cheesehead shareholder type. I’ll keep watching games, pink or no pink. The token pink, though, still irritates me.

Let’s see the teams and their officials and their coaching staff wear the regular colors and have the organization instead make a more-than-token donation to breast cancer research. Maybe when public groups like football teams move beyond the pink ribbons and towels we as a society can admit that research and treatment will gain more from a sizable infusion of cash than from muscular young men sporting hot pink shoelaces.

Until then, maybe I’ll stick to listening to my beloved Packers on the radio for the rest of October.

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Voter registration: it’s all in a day’s work

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I returned to my cubicle after a sick day, and oh, my, the work had piled up. My gradebook was packed with portfolios, tests, and quizzes all waiting for my expert grading skills. My inbox was bulging, and many were seriously must-have-attention-now messages. My physical mailbox was full, too – full of the big white envelopes that families mail to me filled with portfolios and collections of math work.

Meanwhile, I got on the phone and made up as many of the previous day’s scheduled phone calls as humanly possible.

The saddest relic of the sick day? Communication broke down, and many of the students who normally attend my Monday virtual class didn’t get the word that it was cancelled. I received phone messages and emails that bordered on rude. How dare I become ill for a day and throw a wrench into the well-oiled machines of their schedules! Deep sigh, deep breath, cough, cough, cough, and I headed back to the list of make-up work. I couldn’t control the cancellation of my class, and I did what was within my power to communicate the cancellation.

But as I addressed the most pressing concerns, wrote up a placement change for a student, gathered information on state test accommodations for another, and then step by step did a quality job of grading, I felt a little better. Not relaxed, but calmer.

And then the following memo turned up in my work inbox:

From 11:00-1:00 today the League of Women voters will be at (the charter high school in our building). If you need to register to vote, change your address or request an absentee ballot (and you are a city resident), feel free to come down to the main hallway and talk with our volunteers.

A sign that life is good, and our society still has hope for positive change: Voter registration was going on downstairs. I wonder if flu shots are available there, too?

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Health Care and PBS

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About a year ago, I was facing two major appointments followed by eye surgery — twice.

Pre-op physical first. I told the scheduler that I had a complete physical in August. No use; the Almighty Computer wouldn’t register a shorter appointment. I had to schedule the full 30 minutes. Luckily, doctors are smarter than the scheduling computer, so this was quick and painless.
Cataract surgery: The left eye had its cataract removed on a fine Friday morning. Right eye happened two weeks later. Recovery was smooth, despite my nerves.
So… I was “down one eye” for a while. I was grateful to work in a cubicle; I wouldn’t have to worry about rowdy students throwing things at me. Two years ago I would have worried about chairs flying through the air. No more! My coworkers aren’t the “throwing chairs” types. (Paper airplanes at times, but that’s another story.)With 20-20 hindsight, I see that I might have better off scheduling these surgeries some other time. I made a serious effort to miss as little school as possible by using a long weekend and having both eyes done on Fridays. October was also the month for parent-teacher conferences, a field trip out of the office, and the start of the not-to-be-forgotten state test season
Under the Affordable Care Act, insurance companies cannot refuse me coverage because of my pre-existing condition, cataracts in both eyes. Health care is important, whether for the eyes or the ears or any other body part. I support President Obama because he made health care for all a priority for all Americans. I’m beyond my reproductive years, but I still support women’s rights to make their own health decisions with their own doctors. When I get older and wiser and face coverage through Medicare, I’d rather see Obama’s version than Romney’s vouchers.
And when I reach the next fork in the road, I’ll support the network that reminds me that it’s a beautiful day in the neighborhood.

“Fozzie, turn left at the fork in the road.”

Thanks, PBS.

“I’m on my way to New York to break into Public Television!’

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Mitt, Mitt, Mitt.

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Dear Mitt;

May I call you Mitt? After all, you’re not really earning my respect these days. The first name will have to do.

Microphones off or on, Mitt, you must think about what you say. Or maybe, just maybe, you really did think about that statement. That’s what scares me. It was, after all, full of your favorite terms. It had a number – a percent, no less! It described a segment of the population that you see as beneath you, which showed clearly in your choice of words. Let’s see.

-dependent on government 

Mitt, I work in the public sector. Does that make me dependent on government? My children attended public schools, and my daughter attended a state university. If that makes us dependent on government, then I guess we fit the profile. By the way, your perception of middle income? Way, way high. We ordinary public school teachers don’t even dream of reaching your estimate of $250,000.

-think they are victims

No, Mitt, I’m not a victim. I’ve been through a lot in the recent past, including a long (unpaid) medical leave from my job (see above). I’m a disabled adult and I wear two hearing aids, but I’m not a victim, Mitt. I’m a survivor. .

-entitled to health care

Health care, Mitt, is a right, not a privilege. Here’s where we differ. No one should have to wait seven months to see a specialist. No one should have to turn down a necessary prescription because it’s a Tier 3 and the co-pay is too high. No one should have to turn down medicine in order to buy food. Which brings me to —

-entitled to food

What exactly are you saying? That people should starve? Have you ever watched a child wolf down his school-funded breakfast on Monday morning because he hasn’t eaten all weekend? No, I didn’t think so. Or – maybe you did mean that hunger doesn’t exist, much less actually matter. (Uh, Mitt? That “Let them eat cake” quote wasn’t really Marie, but she lost her head over it. America still has peasants who have no bread, make no doubt about it.)

-entitled to housing

Once again – are you saying that a home is optional? Home doesn’t have to be fancy. An apartment, a room in a shelter, space in a relative’s basement – housing takes many forms, as does homelessness. Mitt, I’ve seen it firsthand. Have you? Frankly, having a roof over one’s head is not optional.

“My job is not to worry about those people.”

Really? If you don’t worry about them, who will? We public school teachers (you know, the ones that Scottie-in-Madison calls Thugs) worry about our students. We worry about their families, and we worry about the village that raises them. It’s a village where we worry about each other, and then we take action. If you’re not worrying, I’m sure you’ll take no actions that might make a difference to anyone on your list. A list, by the way, that includes nearly half of the voters in the United States.

No wonder those voters stick with Barack Obama. It’s not because we’re entitled, but because President Obama has earned our respect. And that, Mitt, makes him entitled to another four years in office.

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Pure Matters –

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Early last week, a package was on the porch: a product review sample left by FedEx. While overnight shipping has a significant carbon footprint, I understand the need for marketers to get their products out to their bloggers quickly. Within its protective packaging, I found small samples, a cloth shopping bag, and two full-sized bottles of product.

I sampled the combination pro- and pre-biotic for digestive health. I gave the kids’ multi-vitamins to La Petite. She’s 25, but she’s still my kid.

I grumbled about the over-packaging, and then I settled down to read the enclosed information in order to write a review. When I stopped grumbling and actually read the information, I decided that the combination pre-biotic and pro-biotic was safe for me to take and might just counteract the, um, er, stomach distress I’d been feeling lately. Replacing Wisconsin’s rogue governor will make my stomach feel better, too, but our chance to do that is still 22 days off. I’ll stick to Pure Matters to regulate my digestive health.

This product is a Complete Biotic, meaning it’s both prebiotic and probiotic. Probiotics replenish the good bacteria in the digestive tract. One commonly known probiotic is lactobacillus sporogenes, or the live bacteria that makes yogurt, well, yogurt. Prebiotics are supplements that help support the growth of probiotics. Pure Matters’ product is shelf stable, too.

Pure Matters also sent a few sample packs. Their gummi-style vitamins for kids are delicious. I did not try the sleep formula or the green tea extract yet.

Pure Matters sent me samples in order to facilitate my review. I had reservations about their over-packaging, but I liked the product in the box. In the end, I guess that’s what matters. 

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Dear Pharmacy; your carbon footprint stinks.

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Dear Pharmacy that shall not be Named;

If just 25% of U.S. families used 10 fewer plastic bags a month, we would save over 2.5 billion bags a year.* So tell me; why do you have such a problem with my bringing my own bag? Last time I had to tell the clerk twice, loudly and clearly, before she looked at me with a confused expression and then set the plastic bag down. I guess I’ll take the confused expression over the eye roll I’ve gotten several other times.
Well, dear Pharmacy, let’s look at another wasteful habit. Every single time a clerk hands out a (stupid little plastic) bag, it contains advertising. Flu shots, diabetes supplies, the smart phone app for refills – I don’t need these. Really. And when I hand back the paper with a “Thanks, but I’ve already had my flu shot,” the paper doesn’t go to another customer; it goes in the recycling. What the heck? Your carbon footprint approaches Paul Bunyan’s print in size.
Pharmacy, dear, oh Ye Who Shall Not be Named, I just moved the bulk of my maintenance medications to another provider. I no longer plan to make multiple trips per month, tolerate the attitude, or accept the outrageous amount of waste generated.

Got it? Oh. I didn’t think so. Never mind.

Sincerely,

Daisy

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>Dear Clinic; Efficient? Nope.

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Actual (almost) exchange by way of the messaging system at our local Clinic That Shall Not Be Named
Dear Family Doc’s Office;
You will receive (or may have already received) a request from (insert insurance company’s mail-order pharmacy here) to transfer four prescriptions to them from the local Pharmacy Who Shall Not be Named. Please keep Pharmacy on my list for short term medication needs.
Sincerely,
Daisy
Dear Daisy;
Refills of your medications have been sent to (insert new pharmacy here) this morning. You are due for a medication/asthma check appointment in April. If you mention the “wait list” the scheduler will know what to do.
Sincerely,
LPN a.k.a. Refill Associate
Wait list? In my vocabulary, those are four letter words. Oh, wait, they ARE four letter words. But anyway, the saga continued —

Confused, because I usually take care of this kind of med check in the summer along with my annual check-up, I made the appointment anyway. After enduring a cold silence when I mentioned that my lack of flexibility was due to my job as a teacher, we managed to find an appointment during my Spring Break. I was to fast overnight, get blood work done, and then talk with the doctor. I wasn’t convinced, though. This was out of the ordinary.

Dear Messaging System at the Clinic That Shall Not be Named;
For the past several years I’ve combined my med checks with a physical in July or August. The message that I need a fasting medication check in April caught me by surprise.
Is the appointment really necessary?
Why the change in routine?

Oh, well, why bother asking,
Daisy

Hi Daisy — all the Docs agreed on medication protocols/visits for certain chronic illnesses, which is usually every 6 months — each MD does have exceptions to the rule though.
I will route this by Family Doc for you, and we’ll be back in touch with his response.

Thanks.
RN in Family Doc’s Offices

Ooh – I actually got an answer from an RN this time. Maybe MD is next. Have I jumped through enough hoops yet to get to the top?

Hi, Daisy – Family Doc had the following comment:
Daisy can be seen for her annual visit in July or August and meds checked then.

Sincerely, RN in Family Doc’s Offices

All of this leaves me wondering once again: is this supposed to be efficient?

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