The learning curve continues...
I accidentally met the doctor who may have changed my opinion of doctors. The appointment was made with her because my doctor was only available during the afternoon and I desperately needed to get back to work where I was not an asthmatic trying to catch my breath. Sooo I made the appointment knowing I would be so much better by the time I saw her and this "episode" of bronchitis induced asthma would be done.
I went to work on Thursday knowing the doctor probably would not approve. I felt breathless so I took the elevator. The kids were so excited since I had been absent three days and that just does not happen to teachers. With each new group I let them do most of the talking. If I was being completely honest it was because I was light headed from trying to catch my breath and be jovial and keep it together. I knew I was a bit twilight looking. The day went by quickly with new groups every 27 minutes until 1. I stayed to organize what my team had already planned for me, grateful for their help. I felt I had done well, pulled something off. I left after 3 to pick up my son and bring him home. I made snacks. I ignored the cough and dizziness. I left for my follow up.
At 4:45 the doctor came in and asked how I was doing. I said better. She stopped and looked at me. Flustered I tried to explain how bad I had been on Sunday and Monday. This was better. How the breathing then was labored, the chest pain deep. She reviewed my chart astounded at the meds I am allergic to and the number of times I'd been to the office. She ordered a new EKG. Monday's was not so good. As she listened to my heart and lungs I knew the charade was over and only hoped she would help me and not send me off with more meds and another appointment.
The EKG was better but showed my heart was still working too hard to keep up with my breathing. My lungs were clearer. A breathing treatment was done. Prednisone was discussed. This was the decision I regretted. I had said no to prednisone on Monday and Tuesday thinking I could do this without it. Prednisone is a strong anti-inflammatory steroid that works beautifully for asthmatics but raises my blood sugar, makes me sweat, unable to sleep and causes such painful muscle cramps that I would rather be breathless. There was no denying her.
This new doctor gave me the people die of asthma everyday especially in this cold weather speech. I was to go to the emergency room. She had called ahead: chest xray, IV prednisone, breathing treatment, blood work and cardiac evaluation.
I thought of course of my kids, my husband, work. I had just told the boys I would be right back. My husband would want to join me and I could not worry him. I would not be going to work and reading stories to the kids tomorrow. And of course I was afraid and stunned.
"Go immediately, they are expecting you. I will be calling."
And I did, returning home at 3 AM.
And she has called every day, several times a day as I have gotten incrementally better, even though the prednisone is torturing me and I am doing insulin injections. She had encouraged me to get through it and not think of it all but each part individually. She is unusual in her thoughfulness and thoroughness.
She will not make my list.
(The emergency room was another story. A different kind of learning curve for another much longer blog.)
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Friday, February 11, 2011
Learning Curve
I've learned many things in the last 24 hours
1. People die from asthma everyday.
2. Blood clots have similar symptoms to asthma.
3. An ER with standing room only is not where you want to spend an evening and early morning.
4. Having "petite" veins is not at all positive.
5. Denying a disease will not make it go away.
6. Sometimes side effects are necessary.
7. Sometimes I am wrong.
8. Nurse's aides do not always come back "in one minute" or "two" or ever...
9. I did not have pulmonary blood clots causing chest pain.
10. I did not die from asthma.
1. People die from asthma everyday.
2. Blood clots have similar symptoms to asthma.
3. An ER with standing room only is not where you want to spend an evening and early morning.
4. Having "petite" veins is not at all positive.
5. Denying a disease will not make it go away.
6. Sometimes side effects are necessary.
7. Sometimes I am wrong.
8. Nurse's aides do not always come back "in one minute" or "two" or ever...
9. I did not have pulmonary blood clots causing chest pain.
10. I did not die from asthma.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
I can speak in one word sentences and be completely understood but not always heard.
Ready? Teeth brushed? Rubberbands? Shoes? Seatbelt? Backpack? Lunch? Water bottle?
Ready? Teeth brushed? Rubberbands? Glove? Bag? Bat? Cup?
Ready? Hands washed?
Done? More? Dishes?
Shoes? Jersey? Mouth guard?
I think sometimes I go an entire day with my sons (and husband) only giving directives and I wonder if they've heard me. The days go by so quickly that when my alarm sounds at 5:40 I know I am already late and scrambling. Our weekends so jam packed that Friday night is an anticipation of Saturday. Sunday is a "oh, not already" and the preparations for tomorrow begin.
I remember my grandfather once told me that being 30 will not last long because you are so busy taking care of everyone else. He was exactly right.
I wonder and fear what 40 will be. Will it be more one word sentences? Less talking and more doing?
Ready? Teeth brushed? Face washed? Good night.
Ready? Life.
Ready? Teeth brushed? Rubberbands? Shoes? Seatbelt? Backpack? Lunch? Water bottle?
Ready? Teeth brushed? Rubberbands? Glove? Bag? Bat? Cup?
Ready? Hands washed?
Done? More? Dishes?
Shoes? Jersey? Mouth guard?
I think sometimes I go an entire day with my sons (and husband) only giving directives and I wonder if they've heard me. The days go by so quickly that when my alarm sounds at 5:40 I know I am already late and scrambling. Our weekends so jam packed that Friday night is an anticipation of Saturday. Sunday is a "oh, not already" and the preparations for tomorrow begin.
I remember my grandfather once told me that being 30 will not last long because you are so busy taking care of everyone else. He was exactly right.
I wonder and fear what 40 will be. Will it be more one word sentences? Less talking and more doing?
Ready? Teeth brushed? Face washed? Good night.
Ready? Life.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
BFFs
I tell him when to be home. He texts within five minutes of the time asking for more. I deny the request and do not entertain regret. Seven is early. True. It is just getting dark. True. It is not even a school night. True.
I am not his friend. We will only be friends on Facebook so I can check up on him and monitor how appropriate it is. I know I make him angry and frustrated. I also know I cannot be his friend. He has peers to be friendly with. He has me to raise him and to see-saw with him the dramas of teen years.
I am his mother. I remember the joy of that time when we learned we were pregnant, the sheer excitement of anticipation. I remember vividly watching him grow by ultrasound holding our breath and our hopes tightly as our high risk pregnancy progressed. I know him. I trust him because he is so much me.
I do not trust the world I have given him to. I do not trust other adults who are too interested in being friends with children, in guiding them to devastating change. I do not trust this world but have given it his life so I will not be his friend. I will not be his buddy. I will be his role model, his guide and if he does not hold my hand I will not be discouraged. I will hold my hand within reach and hope he sees it ahead.
I will steer him safely to adulthood where I will be ready to let him go. I will land him there a successful confident person who will make this world a place I trust in again, a place where my child has grown good and strong and sure.
Then I will enjoy his friendship.
I am not his friend. We will only be friends on Facebook so I can check up on him and monitor how appropriate it is. I know I make him angry and frustrated. I also know I cannot be his friend. He has peers to be friendly with. He has me to raise him and to see-saw with him the dramas of teen years.
I am his mother. I remember the joy of that time when we learned we were pregnant, the sheer excitement of anticipation. I remember vividly watching him grow by ultrasound holding our breath and our hopes tightly as our high risk pregnancy progressed. I know him. I trust him because he is so much me.
I do not trust the world I have given him to. I do not trust other adults who are too interested in being friends with children, in guiding them to devastating change. I do not trust this world but have given it his life so I will not be his friend. I will not be his buddy. I will be his role model, his guide and if he does not hold my hand I will not be discouraged. I will hold my hand within reach and hope he sees it ahead.
I will steer him safely to adulthood where I will be ready to let him go. I will land him there a successful confident person who will make this world a place I trust in again, a place where my child has grown good and strong and sure.
Then I will enjoy his friendship.
Monday, August 30, 2010
Walker
When the doorbell rang I thought, Oh no! He did not walk! It was like I already knew.
I was just getting my flip flops on to see how after school care was going. I had his party invitations to pass out to his new friends. I held hope in my hand that he had gotten over the morning's anxiety at before school care and gone to the same gym after school as he was supposed to.
For a week I had walked him to school and stood outside the door waiting for eye contact and his slow sigh of relief as he saw me and his sweaty hand pressed into my palm. It was a treasure to be able to take him to school and pick him up without the pressures of rushing to my own job and just as crazily rushing home to him and his brother. The anxiety of stranger danger was not swelling in my chest yet. They were safe with me. The memories of summer still fresh.
As I opened the door there was his sweaty little face, looking guilty and nervous. I saw it all clearly before he opened his mouth to confess. He got in line with the walkers and left the building but I was not there. I was not there. He looked and looked and walked a little then a little more and he got scared. Afrai, of course, to admit he should not have left. Afraid, maybe, I'd left him. And he cried and cried. And I cried. My mind filled with the what could have gone wrongs. He walked alone for several blocks. I would not have allowed him to walk that far. The phone rang as I regained my voice, hoarse from the possibilities of tragedy settling there. The hysteria I was keeping at bay. It had been 20 minutes since school let out and after school care had taken attendance. To his elementary school he was missing. The woman I knew and loved, who had taken care of my children for years was calling to tell me Jeremy was missing.
No he is right here I told her and could only shake my head. My voice lost in the fear, in the guilt in the what ifs. He went to bed to cry. I held him and told him we would try again tomorrow.
Hopefully tomorrow he is handled tenderly so that he trusts his own decisions and goes to after school care without feeling bad for scaring the hell out of everyone.
I will be outside the door in case he forgets.
I was just getting my flip flops on to see how after school care was going. I had his party invitations to pass out to his new friends. I held hope in my hand that he had gotten over the morning's anxiety at before school care and gone to the same gym after school as he was supposed to.
For a week I had walked him to school and stood outside the door waiting for eye contact and his slow sigh of relief as he saw me and his sweaty hand pressed into my palm. It was a treasure to be able to take him to school and pick him up without the pressures of rushing to my own job and just as crazily rushing home to him and his brother. The anxiety of stranger danger was not swelling in my chest yet. They were safe with me. The memories of summer still fresh.
As I opened the door there was his sweaty little face, looking guilty and nervous. I saw it all clearly before he opened his mouth to confess. He got in line with the walkers and left the building but I was not there. I was not there. He looked and looked and walked a little then a little more and he got scared. Afrai, of course, to admit he should not have left. Afraid, maybe, I'd left him. And he cried and cried. And I cried. My mind filled with the what could have gone wrongs. He walked alone for several blocks. I would not have allowed him to walk that far. The phone rang as I regained my voice, hoarse from the possibilities of tragedy settling there. The hysteria I was keeping at bay. It had been 20 minutes since school let out and after school care had taken attendance. To his elementary school he was missing. The woman I knew and loved, who had taken care of my children for years was calling to tell me Jeremy was missing.
No he is right here I told her and could only shake my head. My voice lost in the fear, in the guilt in the what ifs. He went to bed to cry. I held him and told him we would try again tomorrow.
Hopefully tomorrow he is handled tenderly so that he trusts his own decisions and goes to after school care without feeling bad for scaring the hell out of everyone.
I will be outside the door in case he forgets.
Monday, August 9, 2010
Threads (revised)
It was a kind of reunion
A going away
Unraveling some unknown distance
Coming closer
To who I was
Or who I might be
Narrowing the space caused
A search for the threads of resemblance
Delivering some hint of remembrance
Winding a thread not held tightly
A connection nonetheless
A tenuous heritage
Threads so thin, nearing invisible
Yet strong as the fishing line
Cast out with a hope and a whoop
A surrender to the possibilities
To be reeled in
A re-creation of who we all are today
What we believe in
What makes up the now
Laughter bookmarked the most important part
Families we've created
Dog-ears left in the pages
To be revisited, relished
A kind of reunion
A grand gathering
Having covered an unknown distance
Coming closer
To who we are
Or who we can become
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
ON MY LIST
I am making a list of doctors who suck! That's right you know them. The best part is that then I have to pay for the services or lack thereof. I have of course not mentioned names but before you make a new appointment looking for help, email me and I will save you time and money.
1. The dermatologist who showed me photos on her IPhone of a man on her exam table, naked I might add, hairy and very overweight with a HOLE in his ass cheek where she was removing a huge growth. This of course was shared with me to make me feel better about having a softball sized growth removed from my back in that same office. I still wonder how she thought this would persuade me from having it in the very clean, private, general anesthesia, camera free (or at least I think) operating room with a surgeon. She also had pics of the growth that was removed. I am currently shuddering and throwing up in my mouth!
2. My internist's partner who asked if I could please wait until Tuesday( from Friday night) for my regular doctor to get back in the office before going to the hospital to have my gall bladder removed even though I failed the test at the hospital and they wanted to admit me.
3. The nurses at the hospital that forgot about me in the waiting room when I had food poisoning until they re-triaged me and found I could not give a urine sample because I was so dehydrated which = an IV and back to the waiting room for 7 hours total!
4. The orthopedic surgeon who talked to his partner for 25 of the 65 minutes I was waiting for him while in pain of course, just outside the exam room about the hot receptionist they interviewed. After gracing me with his presence (10 minutes) he said when the pain was too much to drive myself to his office and to physical therapy we would discuss more treatment but I was otherwise doing well. Doing well was requiring 4 vicodin a day just to get up. I was unable to wash or dry my own hair. My right hand was constant pins and needles. But his receptionist was hot!
5. The second orthopedic surgeon who came highly recommended and did an xray at his office (another 2 hour wait while in pain) and asked if I had nipple rings??? Ah... nice.
6. The plastic surgeon who stuffed my mouth with gauze to "stop that screaming already" as he did reconstructive surgery on me in the emergency room with too little morphine. A wonderful nurse did save me and unstuffed my mouth, told him off and gave me pain meds.
7. The physician who told me she would make the decisions about what I needed and that she was the doctor. For the two months I was her patient I had a mammogram, a stress test and then refused the CAT scan for migraines I'd had for years. She insisted I was having a stroke and would not be responsible if I "stroked out" when she advised me to go to the hospital. She also made me wait over two hours for a physical but ran out of time so only did a history and then had me come back in one week. On my receipt she listed asthma and charged me twice for an exam. Insurance questioned it as did I and the office manager insisted she diagnosed me with exam one week and the next week did a more "thorough" exam.
8. The neurosurgeon who was deemed "arrogant" by an online reviewer turned out to be a BITCH who would not recommend any treatment even after I waited 1 month for the appointment and 2 hours for her to come into the exam room because I did not have a current MRI. It seems she has exchanged her empathy for some expertise that she did not share with me. Somewhere she has lost touch with why she is practicing medicine and I would love to write to her to tell her that she took away a lot the day I met her with so much hope and excitement, after all she is supposed to be an expert in her field. I returned to my car a different person, less hopeful, more bitter and so heatbroken to be starting over with the calls to insurance and doctors and a new consultation and less trust.
I was told to bring any films or info I had. The last one was 2007 but she said it was too old even though the symptoms were the same for ten years. She also said my exam (3 minutes of turning neck, pulling hands, reflexes) was great and although I SAY I have pain I appear fine and my neurologic symptoms are only mine since she cant see anything without an MRI.
I told her I cant do anything...no running, no jumping.. she asked how this effects my life. Ok I know I am not running any marathons but when it hurts to move quickly there is a problem. what a racket. A consultation fee for nothing?
After telling her I did not know I needed a new MRI she said, well you could go down to the hospital tonight for one (I had now been in the office over two hours and needed to drive 45 mins to get my kids) . When I tried to explain I could not go that night and would have gladly had one for the last month waiting for the appointment she said she was doing the best she could but was certain I was told to get a new MRI before my appt. I said I was not. She walked me, very teacher like, to the manager of the receptionists and made me tell her what I'd said (really!) The receptionist said there was a script and if they did not tell me I was to have one before I came she was sorry.
So I cried like an ass! I cried and said what a waste of time and how frustrating to wait a month and two hours for ten minutes and nothing. I left with no prescription for MRI or help of any kind. She was certain to give me a copy of my paperwork which only stated my history and that no treatment was done at this time because no MRI was done.
1. The dermatologist who showed me photos on her IPhone of a man on her exam table, naked I might add, hairy and very overweight with a HOLE in his ass cheek where she was removing a huge growth. This of course was shared with me to make me feel better about having a softball sized growth removed from my back in that same office. I still wonder how she thought this would persuade me from having it in the very clean, private, general anesthesia, camera free (or at least I think) operating room with a surgeon. She also had pics of the growth that was removed. I am currently shuddering and throwing up in my mouth!
2. My internist's partner who asked if I could please wait until Tuesday( from Friday night) for my regular doctor to get back in the office before going to the hospital to have my gall bladder removed even though I failed the test at the hospital and they wanted to admit me.
3. The nurses at the hospital that forgot about me in the waiting room when I had food poisoning until they re-triaged me and found I could not give a urine sample because I was so dehydrated which = an IV and back to the waiting room for 7 hours total!
4. The orthopedic surgeon who talked to his partner for 25 of the 65 minutes I was waiting for him while in pain of course, just outside the exam room about the hot receptionist they interviewed. After gracing me with his presence (10 minutes) he said when the pain was too much to drive myself to his office and to physical therapy we would discuss more treatment but I was otherwise doing well. Doing well was requiring 4 vicodin a day just to get up. I was unable to wash or dry my own hair. My right hand was constant pins and needles. But his receptionist was hot!
5. The second orthopedic surgeon who came highly recommended and did an xray at his office (another 2 hour wait while in pain) and asked if I had nipple rings??? Ah... nice.
6. The plastic surgeon who stuffed my mouth with gauze to "stop that screaming already" as he did reconstructive surgery on me in the emergency room with too little morphine. A wonderful nurse did save me and unstuffed my mouth, told him off and gave me pain meds.
7. The physician who told me she would make the decisions about what I needed and that she was the doctor. For the two months I was her patient I had a mammogram, a stress test and then refused the CAT scan for migraines I'd had for years. She insisted I was having a stroke and would not be responsible if I "stroked out" when she advised me to go to the hospital. She also made me wait over two hours for a physical but ran out of time so only did a history and then had me come back in one week. On my receipt she listed asthma and charged me twice for an exam. Insurance questioned it as did I and the office manager insisted she diagnosed me with exam one week and the next week did a more "thorough" exam.
8. The neurosurgeon who was deemed "arrogant" by an online reviewer turned out to be a BITCH who would not recommend any treatment even after I waited 1 month for the appointment and 2 hours for her to come into the exam room because I did not have a current MRI. It seems she has exchanged her empathy for some expertise that she did not share with me. Somewhere she has lost touch with why she is practicing medicine and I would love to write to her to tell her that she took away a lot the day I met her with so much hope and excitement, after all she is supposed to be an expert in her field. I returned to my car a different person, less hopeful, more bitter and so heatbroken to be starting over with the calls to insurance and doctors and a new consultation and less trust.
I was told to bring any films or info I had. The last one was 2007 but she said it was too old even though the symptoms were the same for ten years. She also said my exam (3 minutes of turning neck, pulling hands, reflexes) was great and although I SAY I have pain I appear fine and my neurologic symptoms are only mine since she cant see anything without an MRI.
I told her I cant do anything...no running, no jumping.. she asked how this effects my life. Ok I know I am not running any marathons but when it hurts to move quickly there is a problem. what a racket. A consultation fee for nothing?
After telling her I did not know I needed a new MRI she said, well you could go down to the hospital tonight for one (I had now been in the office over two hours and needed to drive 45 mins to get my kids) . When I tried to explain I could not go that night and would have gladly had one for the last month waiting for the appointment she said she was doing the best she could but was certain I was told to get a new MRI before my appt. I said I was not. She walked me, very teacher like, to the manager of the receptionists and made me tell her what I'd said (really!) The receptionist said there was a script and if they did not tell me I was to have one before I came she was sorry.
So I cried like an ass! I cried and said what a waste of time and how frustrating to wait a month and two hours for ten minutes and nothing. I left with no prescription for MRI or help of any kind. She was certain to give me a copy of my paperwork which only stated my history and that no treatment was done at this time because no MRI was done.
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