Works for me.
Advice from Snoopy
Reply
Category Archives: illness
Not Suitable for Social Media
Sometimes, it’s just wiser to keep hands off the keyboard. It’s not that any of these posts were bad, just that they were rather dull and at times, whiny. And really, folks, in the big picture, I get over it. But sometimes, just once in a while, a blog is a good venue in which to rant and complain. Because, I said because, releasing tension makes for a better night’s sleep.
I am tired and sore and even a little cold and shivery today. Maybe going out to lunch yesterday was a little too much for my energy level. Solution: double blankets, couch, nap. Between naps, rest. And if Amigo sneaks into my spot on the couch while I’m in the shower – I’ll get even. I’ll grab my blankets and a pillow and tuck myself into his bean bag chair.
The daily injections of the anti-clotting drug seemed to be going fine – until I realized I’d given myself a bruise every time. As long as I’m getting the meds injected and they’re getting absorbed properly, I’ll put up with a tummy that resembles the surface of the moon. I mean, really, I’m not a low-rider jeans or bikini babe type, even in the best of weather. But allow me to feel a little disgruntled. Jabbing myself in the tummy with a needle isn’t a happy thought even on the best of days. Maybe I should plan the landscape as I choose a new spot each day. I could connect the dots with multi-colored Sharpies.
If I start posting updates like this, it’s time to take my laptop away and hand me another blanket. Coffee or chocolate might help. I wouldn’t turn down a big bag of fast food popcorn, either. If I post a picture – well, then take my camera and hide it. Now.
On the positive side, Buttercup the service bunny seems a little less worried about me. She attached herself to my side when I came home from the hospital by establishing a spot under a chair next to the daybed I’m using. I came back from a bathroom trip that night to find her standing right next to the door, staring at me disapprovingly (trust me, she does this well). She doesn’t give me the evil eye any more when I’m out of bed. She must know something is going well.
So now comes the big question. If these are posts I will refrain from sharing on social media, should I share the link on Facebook and Twitter when this post goes live?
What is Comfort Food?
Amigo likes the term “Comfort Food.” If I announce what’s for supper and he chimes in “Comfort Food!” I take it as a compliment. From him, it means something he likes, something easy to eat, something not fancy, a simple dish with simple tastes.
Chuck, on the other hand, watches cooking shows – way too many cooking shows. He claims that the top chefs highly dislike the term Comfort Food because – because, well, what does that make the other foods? Discomfort foods? Something not comfortable?
Sometimes the best way to define a term is to show examples. Comfort food includes:
- baked mac & cheese
- meatloaf
- leftovers – including, but not limited to, turkey soup made from Thanksgiving leftovers
- something that’s simmered long enough to make the house smell good (crock pots included)
- brunch dishes such as skillets and omelets
- soup and grilled cheese sandwiches
- variations on BLT sandwiches
Another trait: Comfort Food requires some effort. Microwave meals do not qualify. A frozen pizza doesn’t count as true Comfort Food, but a homemade pizza more than counts. Here are a few suggestions that take a little effort and time:
- homemade seafood chowder made from scratch on stove top
- mashed potatoes – real mashed potatoes, not dried potato flakes
- lettuce salad with grated carrots, cheeses, and a Tablespoon of bacon dressing
- winter squash – one butternut squash from the pantry, the last stored there from September – baked and mashed with a little butter and brown sugar
- chili – stovetop or in the crock pot
- spaghetti and meat sauce with grated Parmesan on top
Locally grown, locally purchased, or the local variation of a classic comfort food dish
- chili with macaroni or spaghetti (It’s a Green Bay tradition; don’t judge me)
- Chicken Booyah (ya, I spelled dat rite, too)
- eggnog ice cream (I made this a few weeks ago with the last of the eggnog)
- sourdough bread – in the bread machine, but made from homegrown starter
- nachos, homemade with home grown jalapeno peppers
So, readers, what do you think? Offer up a menu or a requirement, a necessity that makes a food fit the Comfort Category.
As Baby Boomers Age
Oh, the memories. My dear darling husband was in terrible pain with what turned out to be kidney stones. The Emergency nurse asked all the perfect scripted triage questions, and he answered what he could through the haze. “Where is the pain?” He pointed. “On a scale of one to ten, with ten being the most severe, how would you rate your pain?” “ELEVENS!”
Fast forward to my recent visit to the nearby surgical center. The RN found what she called “good veins” and set up the IV quickly and (nearly) painlessly. Chuck complained that it wasn’t fair, really. The last time he’d needed an IV, they’d searched all over and the nurse eventually sat on the floor next to his dangling arm to get an IV into him.
Then it dawned on us. We had turned into the dreaded generation: those with conversations consisting of comparisons of our various hospital visits. My pre-op nurse stepped out, ostensibly to check with the anesthesiologist, but we think she really had to leave the prep room before she broke out laughing and appeared unprofessional.
I learned that hospital food has come a long way in quality since I worked part time in food service at this very hospital. The menu was nice and the process was rather personal. And when I finally developed an appetite of sorts, the food was delicious. I think they should rename their transition or bland diet to call it Comfort Food. If I served Baked Mac & Cheese, tomato soup, herbal tea, and a little cup of raspberry sherbet for dessert, the family would call it comfort food and pronounce it good. My supper tray was good, too.
Back to the aging cycle. My hometown is a somewhat small city. My hospital room was on the sixth floor of a tower wing that hasn’t been around long. From my window, I could see the snowy and icy horizon far enough to recognize the large insurance company building that keeps a fair number of locals employed. After dark, the night lights identified another large building, one that didn’t exist when I was a volunteer in a striped pinafore: The Far North High School, La Petite’s alma mater.
I felt more like myself the next morning – less dizzy, able to walk to the bathroom without a walker, and feeling capable of making irreverent comments. That leg massaging thing? The one designed to help prevent clotting? This is a handy dandy little gadget. Someone should develop a non-medical version for cubicle workers. That list on the whiteboard? The goals I need to reach before I can go home? I call it my IEP. All too soon, I mastered the tasks on the board, signed my discharge information, and followed Chuck through the bitter cold to his Subaru and then, finally, home.
You might see:
I’m home for a while, resting and healing from a major fix (i.e. surgery). While I’m here at home with my pillows and blankets, you might expect posts along these lines.
- Closed Captioning errors. I plan to watch some mindless TV (is there any other kind?),and I’ll share more humorous errors with you. A few minutes ago I heard Chuck laugh out loud – the captioner had typed “she was out of termites” instead of “she’s out of her mind.”
- Pictures of Buttercup, the sweet big bunny. She adopted me last night and spent the entire night under a chair at the foot of my temporary home, the daybed in my office. When I got up to use the bathroom, she waited at the bedroom door for my return. I could see it in her big eyes: “Mom, I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” She is a sweet and caring bundle of fur. Or maybe, just maybe, she wants to make sure someone is healthy enough to feed her.
- Book reviews, or at least book lists. I loaded my Kindle and browsed Paperback Swap dot com to prepare for this lengthy leave.
- Stories. I still haven’t decided how much needs sharing with the blogging world. If I start hearing “TMI! TMI!” in my subconscious, I’ll hit delete. Promise. Probably.
- Progress reports – mine, not my students’. I expect the healing process to be steady and proceed at a substantially faster pace than my last medical leave of absence.
And off we go, folks, into the next six weeks at the O.K. Chorale.
Prepping for surgery
It’s not always what it seems. I followed the doctor’s advice, drank lots of liquids, rested, etc. But in addition, I prepared myself for a six week (possibly) leave of absence to recover.
- Load the Kindle with reading material.
- Order a few books from Paperback Swap.
- Train a substitute teacher – no easy feat in an online school.
- Prepare all the files the online teacher might need. Store them on a jump drive for her.
- Buy new pajama pants.
- Stock up on lip balm and lotion.
- Renew any meds now – to avoid making extra trips out of the house later.
- Grind coffee beans!
- Create a place to rest and hang out. Daybed? Bedroom recliner? Couch?
- Set up blog posts so my dedicated readers won’t get lonely.
How’s that? Did I miss anything? If I did, it’s too late – unless I put Chuck to work.
Health News at the O.K. Chorale
No one has the flu.
Chuck’s kidneys are not, at the moment, stoned.
Amigo is in good spirits and preparing for Trivia Weekend, one of his favorite weekends all year long.
La Petite and her significant other will visit to go to a hockey game armed with teddy bears. Trust me. It makes sense.
And me? I finally reached my tolerance limit and told the doctor I was ready for a permanent solution to a problem that’s been happening on and off for the last five years. My surgery is Monday morning.
My recovery could take as long as six weeks. My substitute is trained and ready to take over my online school obligations. I have loaded my Kindle with books, I bought new pajama pants emblazoned with Dr. Seuss’ One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish. There’s coffee enough in the cupboard.
Deep breath: I think I’m ready.
A Snarky Day
I could make this sound like I felt eternally grateful for everything, but really, I was grumpy. Read all about it, if you dare.
I submitted a draft to our social media office, and it hit the pipeline this week. The writer/editor eliminated my M*A*S*H reference, saying that few would know the show any more. I countered by letting her know that M*A*S*H airs twice daily on MeTV these days. No go – Colonel Potter’s “Pentagon – you know, four walls and one to spare” didn’t make the final cut. Why didn’t I just take her word for it and admit I am aging? Heck, this was the same woman who tried to eliminate mention of Edna Ferber from a pop culture post last spring. She’s a decent writer, but she needs to get out more.
On my way to an appointment at the Clinic That Shall Not Be Named, I was stuck behind a line of traffic stalled by a HUGE tow truck backing into a business driveway near a busy corner. I called the clinic and told them I’d be a little late. Somehow, I thought this was the courteous thing to do. The operator on the phone wasn’t pleased. Instead of saying she’d make a note of it or some other such action, she told me to hurry up and get there as fast as I could. When she started rattling off a “ten minutes late” policy, I tuned out completely and watched the road – and hoped my blood pressure wouldn’t be off the charts when I arrived. Luckily for me (and my blood pressure), everyone else was courteous and professional.
The other moment of wisdom in the day came during an online staff development session. The leader posted a number of images of the Lincoln penny with a catch – only one was correct. The others were all photoshopped in some way. I thought “Aha! I can reach my purse with my headset on – she’ll never know!” And I pulled out a penny – that didn’t feature Lincoln. It had leaves on it. “Hey, wait, this isn’t an older wheat penny. These are -” I turned over the penny. Queen Elizabeth. I had pulled a Canadian penny from my wallet. Served me right, eh?
The solution was simple. On my way home from the Clinic That Shall Not Be Named, I picked up bunny food and M&Ms. Don’t judge me; it worked. I feel much better now!
And on we go, into 2014
Yesterday I described a few highlights and lowlights to what I’m now calling the Year of Survival, 2013. To follow up, I’ll address the other part of the challenge: What word reflects my intentions for 2014?
Many of my ongoing projects got set aside in the mess that was 2013. The manuscript for the book Educating Amigo is still in limbo, and sending out submission packages became less of a goal than learning to walk well and handle stairs without a cane. The book project is back on a front burner now, and I hope to reach out to a another potential writer/editor for guidance.
I wrote a few short grants at work, none successful. I don’t mind losing the grants; I learn a little every time I do the research involved in any project funding request. Looking ahead, my grant applications will still focus on our goals of increasing family involvement and improving reading skills. I might reach out to more grantors who have the same mission, rather than more general resources.
In a post on my employer’s national blog, I suggested setting goals in the form of a 3-2-1 summary. 3 good habits to keep in place; 2 bad habits to break or leave behind; and finally, 1 positive change. Let’s see how that looks in my own life.
3 good habits:
- Put my health first. Reach out to health professionals as necessary.
- Eat local, cook from scratch, and preserve (can and freeze) to keep the family’s menu healthy and delicious.
- Rest. Make sleep a priority.
2 bad habits to leave behind:
- Stop putting my health at risk by putting off routine care – this is a dangerous route to follow.
- Don’t sweat the small stuff; keep the big priorities on top of the to-do list.
And in conclusion, 1 positive change to put into place:
Get my home office in shape and use it – for book work, possibly for summer school, and also for privacy, peace, and quiet.
Back to the first question: What word reflects my intentions for 2014?
Reach. Reach out to those who can help keep me healthy and keep my brain and body functioning properly; reach for resources that can help with grants for my work and help with the publishing process; reach for the sky, but keep at least one foot on the ground for balance.
Readers, how about you?
The Eyes Have It
Oh, readers, it’s been crazy around the O.K. Chorale. In the midst of Christmas and birthday shopping, in the throes of one health issue after another, my left eye decided to go its own separate way.
Translation: the retina detached in my left eye.
In lieu of a complex narrative, here are a few highlights.
I learned:
- the difference between Urgent and Emergency surgeries
- How to reattach a retina in three easy steps (I’m kidding — do not try this at home)
- why detailed protocols in surgery double and triple check everything
- how to be guided rather than be the sighted guide
- how much I miss reading when my reading ability is limited
- I can tolerate three straight days without coffee if I must.
- it’s possible to be sedated and still feel tense
Access to medical records is important. No, it’s huge.
- In the ER Wednesday night, the ER doc read through the notes from Dr. Shoes, the neurologist, before even seeing me. He was able to rule out another episode similar to stroke almost immediately.
- Eye Doc from cataract surgery was the opthalmologist on call Wednesday night. He had my history.
- By the time I saw Dr. Retina Thursday morning, he had already started the wheels turning, scheduling a surgery room and all its trimmings and trappings.
- Even though my records were available at the click of a mouse, pre-op procedures include verifying everything.
You may have noticed a hint about verification and double checking all details. When I walked in to register at the Alewives Surgical Center (not its real name), the clerk pulled up the file and said, “Oh, you’re having surgery on your right eye.” “No,” I corrected, “it’s the left eye.” She dove into Double Check mode and made a call to verify which eye this should be. As dear husband “Chuck” joined me, we decided to verify this ourselves each and every step of the way. After getting blood drawn, having an IV hooked up, changing into OR fashion, and talking to the anesthesiologist, Dr. Retina came in with a sharpie marker and made a note next to my left eye. He joked that we’d probably heard of mistakes, they were extremely rare, and this was one way he made sure he got the correct eye. We told him that I’d been met at the admissions desk with a greeting that included the right, er, wrong eye.
Dr. Retina was not pleased. After my surgery was finished, he had the trail of information traced until he’d tracked down the source of the error. The confusion came in the game of telephone from ER Doc to Doc Cataract to Dr. Retina. Somewhere in that train, Left was noted as Right. The preliminary information came into Dr. Retina’s office as Retinal Detachment, Right Eye. He corrected his records after examining me, but somewhere this incorrect detail slipped through the cracks.
So folks, friends, family, and fellow bloggers, the left eye is now healing, and my plans for the next few weeks are changed a bit. Here we are, almost at Christmas, and suddenly any shopping plans are modified. Here’s the new to-do list.
- Incorporate eye drop schedules into daily routine.
- Finish ordering online ASAP for getting things shipped in time.
- Modify gift list to include more homemade and less store bought.
- Make an accurate list and go out shopping with Chuck at the wheel.
- Hide Chuck’s gifts at the bottom of the cart so he doesn’t see them.
- Cards? This year cards might not go out. Love you, peoples, but there are priorities.