Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘doctor’

I come from a line of worriers.  Dad would faithfully watch the news each day and that would give him a whole new set of problems to worry about.  A car drove through a house somewhere in the country and now we must be on alert for rampaging cars.  A girl was attacked.  Then, we were going to be attacked.  He was sure of it as sure as he was that everyone was out to get him.

I’m sure he would have had a field day in this post 9/11 world.  He already avoided large cities because people were mugged in large cities, there was traffic in large cities and everything cost more in large cities.

My mother, having lived with my dad for well over fifty years, has absorbed some of his worrying.

The other day, I received a call from her. The doctor recently asked Hospice to begin attending to mother.  She lives alone, in an apartment and has not been eating well.  She has four very bad leaky heart valves and by the time she has buttered her bread, to make a sandwich, she is so tired that she has to go and sit down and rest.  It can often take her an hour to make a sandwich and by then, she’s just too tired to eat it.

The latest thing is that they are bringing her out a hospital bed.  She has trouble getting into her craftmatic, twin bed.  It is high and she has to sit on the edge and roll and grab the opposing side of the mattress to pull herself the rest of the way up.  This is fraught with the possibilty of her falling out, so a hospital bed can be lowered to a more amenable height for her.

She called me today with a question she has already inquired about two other times.

What happens, with Hospice, if I don’t die in six months?

My first response really wanted to be something like, “Just what are you going to do about this?”

But, mom doesn’t get my sense of humor and I really did not feel like her dying was a good thing to joke about.  So, I again explained that should she not die in six months, they will reevaluate her health status and then resign her up as needing care.  This is presuming that her heart has not miraculously healed itself in six months time.  Should that happen, we will bring back her craftmatic bed for her to use, as “yes, at that time, they would take her hospital bed away.”

There is no date stamped on her.  She may live six years.  We have explained that the doc is not saying, “You have six months to live.”  He’s just saying, “you need help to live a rich, full, safe, life.”  Just enjoy it, Mom.  After 89 years, you have the right to have someone come and help you make a sandwich and dust.

Surely, there are more important things to worry about than where her craftmatic bed is.

Advertisements

Read Full Post »

Gosh, things are going along swimmingly without insurance, and then you get insurance, go to the doctor and have one great thing after another. 

First, was a pain in my foot at night; not when I walked on it either, just at night.  I go to the doctor, he sends me to a specialist. 

Now, there is a whole other topic.  I love my General Practioner.  He is a great guy and I would not want to eliminate his job, but just why do I need to go to a GP, for a pain in my foot, to be told to go to a podiatrist?  I mean, my foot hurt so couldn’t I just call the podiatrist and say, “my foot hurts.”

Well, as it turns out, the answer to that is no.  Because when I do get to him, he tells me that the pain is most likely actually coming from my back.  Probably an issue I have had since I was two and thrown under the dash.  I do like to blame everything on that one accident but it is a good possibility. 

So, until I can get to a back doctor, I was also informed that I have to buy Butt Ugly running shoes.  Now, he did not specify that they be butt ugly, it just turns out that they are.  I have to admit, they do feel good.

butt-ugly-running-shoes-jpg

And, while we are on health, I did not appreciate being stung by a wasp, on the tip of my finger this morning.   Makes it tough to type.

swollen-finger-jpg

Read Full Post »

Husband has decided he is never going to the doctor again. 

 

He went to his GP yesterday morning so that he could get his ten medications renewed for the year and he walked out with fourteen prescriptions and pneumonia.   I told on him, that his cough was worse than normal and after listening to his chest, the doctor told him why—pneumonia.

 

Then, we picked up mom and took both of them to the Ophthalmologist.  (is that spelled right?  That’s what Word and WordPress says it is.)  Husband has lost his reading glasses, for good this time, and needed to get a new script as one eye is different from the other and WalMart does not carry reading glasses with each eye different. 

 

He, husband—not the doctor, developed a swelling on the back of his eye years ago.  When the swelling went down, the ‘cones’ did not sink right and so he has a blurred spot; that’s what he had been told in the past.  Now, the spot is changing and there is a broken vessel.  The doctor asked what husband had done for a living.  Since he had been a millright and around welding, the doctor thought that might have damaged his eye, however, that was years before.

 

New story but they will tie in at the end.  EMT has been drooling over the S10 truck for some time but it does not work.  He has a friend, through the volunteer fire department who has an S10 in his back yard and loves to work on cars, so this morning he was to drive it over to the guys house and they were going to work on it.  

 

I went out to be in the Voyager to jump the battery on the S10.   Having owned only one new car in my life, I am well versed in jumping car batteries.  However, I have never been in the charger car before when the door locks automatically locked and the speedometer went crazy when the dead battery car tried to start.  It never did start, but I had an epiphany.

 

Third and final story:  Husband’s energy level is very low so when husband and I were rehabbing our house for sale, he would get up early, while he had a little energy and work.  I have to say that rehabbing a house like this takes forever, no one week flip for us.  I usually wake up at the same time every morning, but this one morning I slept a bit late.  I got up, dressed and went out to get the mail.  I came back in and heard a faint cry, “Sheryl.” 

 

It came from the crawl space, and under my feet.   “Sheryl, shut off the electricity.”

 

Yup, husband had crawled into a very wet dirt crawl space and hooked himself up to the electricity and I’m thinking that maybe it acted like a lightning strike on his eye.  I don’t know if that did it but it was shortly after that when he noticed the blurred spot for the first time.

 

He’s still griping about going to the doctor.

Read Full Post »

I love the intelligence of a doctor giving people with bronchitis inhalers.  I know that it is the quickest way to open up their bronchial tubes, but as you watch them try to do it, it just seems futile.
Mom is eighty-six and has severe bronchitis.  There was talk of her going to the hospital, but the clinic doctor decided to treat her.  She received an injection of steroids with three inch mega needle and a smaller antibiotic shot.  I also filled three prescriptions for her; two antibiotics and one for an inhaler.
I called husband, who uses four inhalers daily to make sure of the instructions and then relayed the instructions to mom.
 
“Okay, mom, you take a big deep breath in and then expel as much of the air as you can.  Start to inhale, and push the plunger down quick as you inhale.  Then hold your breath for as long as you can.”
 
What really happens though is:
inhale five short breaths, cause that’s all she can do, expel a puff of air, inhale and cough and push the plunger and inh—, cough, cough, cough, inhale—cough, cough, cough and more coughing.  Twice in a row will do the trick.
 
It really doesn’t work well when you have bronchitis.

The only thing that did work well with her bronchitis is that she let me do her laundry and make her bed, as she sat in the front room with two sweaters and a blanket on. Then, I insisted she try a hot shower to warm up, but the shower hose was leaking and the water was cold, so I tucked her into bed on her new heated mattress pad (a Christmas gift from Master’s Daughter) and  under an electric blanket. She then fell right to sleep.

Read Full Post »

When my mother’s essential tremor started developing, she went to the doctor. Since she is a poet, it caused her quite a bit of frustration. She could not make notes, when she got ideas, at least not so she could read them back.  If you remember something that was marketed for kids (I think in the 60s), and I think it was called a “crazy writer” then you have an idea what her handwriting looks like.  It was a pen that you put batteries in and it vibrated back and forth. That’s mom’s handwriting.

 

She decided it was time to go to the doctor and find out what was wrong, and hopefully get something to fix it.  After explaining the situation to the doctor, he examined her and then said: (Note, the line spacing designates the pauses the doctor took, in his story.)

 

“You know, this reminds me of my grandmother.

 

“She started to get a tremor, like yours.

 

“And, then it got a little worse,

 

“And, then it got a lot worse.

 

“And, then it got real bad.

 

“And, then,

 

 

She died.”

 

What a bedside manner!

Read Full Post »