Thursday, July 04, 2013
Seems they've done it again, changed things. I like the changes, just wish I could find them faster, but maybe with time.
Wednesday, May 29, 2013
Finally, the kidney stone episode with the DH is done good enough that things can get back on a normal track again. They got the major parts of the stone out, put in a stint and told him that it would SLOWLY stop hurting. That part is true. They told him he had a urine infection and he's on Cipro for that, must be working cuz his fever of 104.3 finally came down and broke totally and hasn't come back at all.
I got to go back to the pool today and I was all alone, but I did my mile walk in the cement pond and really enjoyed it. Nice and quiet and peaceful and enjoyable. Now I'm back home to study until noon when the DH comes back home.
I'm off to study. Have a great one!
Monday, May 06, 2013
Today was the day from Hell that I was dreading so much that I was psyched out for a week ahead. It started off as an ER run for my DH. Kidney Stone stuck in the tube that goes from the Kidney to the bladder. For the next three days we did all things medical. Prescriptions by the wheelbarrow at the pharmacy, doctor's offices. All I could think of was I was so glad for Medicare and the medical insurance we picked out. The ER alone was over $10,000.00 and that was for an arm load of liquid and pain meds, plus a CT scan and the doctor to read it and tell us what and where and then what to do.
Off to the next doctor for more testing and readings and advisories and then today, full of one appointment to another that all had to be done by 1200 so he would be at the right place in time for the procedure otherwise he was out and couldn't get it again for 30 days unless he followed the machine to someone else's office, which meant we would have to start the appts over again.
So at 10:30 am we made it where we were supposed to be in plenty of time only to sit and wait and listen to a woman sitting with her husband complaining about how long they had been sitting there. As it turns out, they were ahead of us at the surgery center for the same reason. We could have gone together or at least had lunch while we waited for our DHs to get done with the lithotripsy.
But as it turned out, I may have snagged myself a p/t hostess job at a very nice, new, and higher end restaurant. While I was talking to the manager, I got my call from the surgery center about my DH being ready for pickup. I was talking to the doctor, not what I was expecting and as it turned out, the stone had moved from this morning's x-ray only 30 minutes prior to the procedure. It moved down to a place where they could not get to. So they woke him up and told him the bad news. By the time I got there, he was one unhappy guy, looking like a little boy that was so disappointed. Now he has to go back and have a different type of procedure done. They go up the urine "pipe" (I'm being nice 'cuz not everyone knows the terms or wants to really know what this is talking about so you can skip over if you don't want to know) and then through the bladder to the pipe that goes up to the kidney, find the stone, grab it with a "basket" and then hit it with a shock wave from that point. The good thing about this procedure is that they haul the broken stones out all at once and there is no passing stones. The bad part is there is a higher risk of damaging one of the pipes along the way. Plus he has to go through the prep and anesthesia again.
He drank water at midnight last night and then got nothing until he woke up. He wanted coffee. They gave him water until he was awake enough to really know what he wanted. They got him coffee.
Then it was get up, get dressed, a little hard to do when your brain is still on anesthesia, and walk out to the car to sit in the sun while I ran up to attempt to get him scheduled soonest possible, which is next week apparently.
So a missed trip to a graduation at UCONN and a missed stone to do it all again.
My stress seemed to have melted when he was in there all ready to go. Now it's forced back on me. All it will take is having to go through the blood platelet thing again and get lost in the system as one poor guy was, and then go get another x-ray that apparently doesn't really represent the issue as ture as it is, and then go through the needle shoved into his hand, which hurts a lot, and the rest of the stuff.
The best thing about it was the people are so helpful and understanding and we didn't find one person that was crappy - well one receptionist that wasn't there today so maybe she got fired. She was a snot - very unhappy about something the day we ran into her last week.
I get to send an email to my potential boss and hopefully get a new p/t job at a real nice place I would love to work at, for awhile anyway.
So off I go - wish us luck. Me for the job, and my DH for getting the kidney stone removed without any problems. And me for being able to deal with the stress better or not having much at all.
Thanks everyone for the encouragement you have given us already.
Have a great one!
Friday, May 03, 2013
I have had a fear for over 20 years and I finally destroyed that fear. Yes, it took me 20 years to beat the fear, but the point is, I beat it and I am proud of myself for having destroyed that fear, which literally disabled me during that time.
When I say disabled, I mean I could not, literally, could not venture into a dentist office without getting physically sick. I know, because I tried it once.
So here is my fear. I was terrified of the dental hygienist. Not the dentist. I had no problem with the dentist, but that hygienist was my absolute terror. And it wasn’t the tools welded by the hygienist, it was her lack of hygiene. How could a hygienist be so lax in hygiene?
Here’s my story. I made an appointment at my favorite dentist’s office, signed in and sat down where I could watch the beautiful tropical fish swim around in the wall sized tank. I loved watching them swim around and through the various “ruins” in the bottom of the tank and marveled at how clean the tank always was.
The hygienist came out and called my name and I noticed she had gloves on, a clipboard in one hand, a pen between her teeth, and her hand was on the door jamb as though she was so tired she needed the wall to hold herself up. When she took her hand off the door jamb, I noticed the worn or filthy spot where her hand had been and wondered how long she had been suffering from this fatigue syndrome.
We walked down the hall, she stopped me at the place where she proceeded to do a “bite-wing x-ray” and then into her cubical for the usual poking and cleaning. I had never been afraid of this part before.
As I sat down, I noticed she reached up and opened the blinds to look out at the world for a few moments, then she closed them. All the while with the same gloves on and the pen between her teeth.
Then she adjusted the chair, the lamp, and opened and closed every drawer beside her, took the pen from her teeth, wrote something on the clipboard, put the “bib” on me, and said, “Open wide, please.”
I said, “Wait! Could you please change your gloves. I’ve seen where those have been and I don’t want them in my mouth.”
She heaved a very heavy sigh, designed to make me aware of her disgust with me, and she opened a drawer and slammed it shut and put another pair of gloves on over the first and I remember wondering if they were new or just used ones she'd salvaged.
No hand washing, just one pair of dubious gloves on over the first pair of soiled ones.
This was at the height of awareness of HIV issues and I was one of the uneducated people that knew nothing about HIV except that you could get it by the disease finding its way into your system by contact as in your mouth or other orifices.
Now my fear is more heightened and I’m wondering why she is being so “dirty.” I am now acutely watching her every move.
Her assistant comes in, sits down and leans on the “back” of the chair but does nothing besides twist back and forth in the chair, like a pendulum on a clock.
So now she reaches up and readjusts the light and I said, “Now your touching the light.”
She said with an exasperated attitude, “It has a cover on it. It was cleaned last night and covered with a plastic sleeve. Now open wide.”
I ripped the bib off, wiggled off the chair as she was too shocked to move, and once I was standing I said, “I can’t sit here and let you poke around in my mouth with your attitude and lack of hygiene.
“Everything in here is filthy and you’ve touched everything already with dirty gloves and your writing with a pen that you constantly hold between your teeth. I don’t know your medical history and I don’t want to know but I don’t want your germs in my mouth. I’m not paying for this cleaning, I won’t let you touch my mouth, I won’t be back.”
I left that office and never went back, partly because I knew someone would remember that I had left without paying and I didn’t want the fight, but mainly because I could not force myself to go to a hygienist.
Twenty years without going to the dentist was starting to take its toll on my mouth and mind. I feared the number of cavities hiding under the plaqie, my teeth were yellow, and the bottom front ones were buried in plaque. So I called a new dentist’s office and asked for an appointment to see the hygienist, but it was for a consult not an exam. I told the person answering the phone that I was terrified of the hygienist and needed to talk. They set me up with their best.
So I do the required stuff of going early, giving over my insurance, filling out the paperwork and then waiting. I am her first of the day, which made me feel good at least in that area.
She comes out, no gloves on, no clipboard, no pen in sight. She smiles and introduces herself and we go back to her “office,” a room of her own, not a cubical shared with anyone else.
I sit in the chair and she leans against the cupboard. She asked a few questions and then I said, “May I tell you my experience and why I am so terrified that I haven’t been able to force myself into a dentist office for over 20 years?”
“Yes, please,” she said. I gave her the details of my fear and I thought she was going to vomit. She was disgusted, mortified, apologetic, and angry. All at the same time. She vowed to eliminate my fear and change my feelings for dentistry.
She did. The first thing she did was turn around and wash her hands like a surgeon, brush, soap, nearly to her elbows, then she dried them on a paper towel that was thrown into the trash and she pulled a pair of new gloves from a box in a clear holder from the wall. You had to know those were new sterile gloves.
I never feared once from her. She had my teeth probed and on report to an assistant that actually did something. She touched nothing after she put the gloves on, except her sterile tools and my mouth. He put all the information she gave him into a computer which had a huge flat screen on the wall that I could see. Then he left and she proceeded to clean my teeth. None of this caused pain and it surprised me because I figured she’d need a jackhammer to get the plaque off alone, and would probably take some of my tooth porcelain with the plaque. I had no idea what was under there.
My teeth are white, mostly, they are unburied and then the dentist came in, checked out what I had against her work and pronounced me and my teeth in good condition. They are old teeth. Well, I’m not young so yes, my teeth are old, but they were in good shape.
So now I have no fear of the hygienist and I’m back on the road of healthy teeth and being able to feel the back of my teeth without the plaque. Now I brush my teeth and floss them almost after every meal. No I am not perfect, but I am working on it and I feel good about myself and my teeth.
If you have a fear of something, figure out why and then attack that fear until you destroy it. It feels so much better being fearless than having it hang over you making you helpless. I know. I’ve been there.
I wish you lots of strength and I hope you destroy your fears quickly.
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