Saturday, February 25, 2012


it's been a difficult day.

on the other hand, burly firemen and wise-acre EMTs did not traipse across my freshly mopped floors, and no one told me the doctor on call had to approve the benadryl capsule i needed for a dire case of itching.  when there was despair -- somewhere around 1:58 pm -- there were also three cats and sunshine.

the wound care nurse came and provided a fast and efficient assessment and dressing change.  like me, like the wound care team at the LTAC, he is reluctant to reapply the wound vac -- it is healing well on its own. he's gonna voice his opinion to th doc on monday.

i don't need another machine to trip me up or more wire/cords to touch my arms or legs..

i'm feeling some anger.

today's amusing anecdote?  the three conscious encounters with the hospitalist who admitted me to the ICU from the emergency department -- obviously, she and i met while i was unconscious. how rude of me.

first encounter:  "well, hello!  you are the lovely lady with the two beautiful lovely daughters who came to my emergency room last weekend...oh! what is wrong with these legs?" [reaches out... and yes, grabs one.]

second encounter:  "well, hello!  did we get you set up with a cpap machine?  when is your cardiologist coming to see you so we can order that test?" [don't ask me!  don't use cpap, didn't know why my cardiologist should even be consulted.  so i continued eating a yogurt...]

third encounter:  this was the day i saved my own life.  in the midst of extreme muddle, it occurred to me to doublecheck on my "usual" meds, especially corticosteroids, as i have adrenal insufficiency.  turns out she'd discontinued ALL my meds.  no steroids for 6 days, shining a light on my increasing weakness, confusion, etc. this despite a duly delivered medication list, a medical alert necklace, and the presence of fred.  also, i'd just had surgery there a week earlier -- one of seven shoulder operations in the last 3 years.  in other words, you'd have to be willful in your ignorance NOT to know what meds i need.  she  cruised in after the nurse paged her in a panic, offering me this explanation:  "i didn't do that!"  panicked eyes.  never saw her again.

"the lovely lady with the two beautiful lovely daughters" would've been more understanding, i am sure. and sometimes i do miss my cardiologist -- he once told me that i'd never die so long as he was caring for me.

ah, specialists!

1 comment:

  1. Glad you survived her tender care. Sounds like you were lucky. Pretty inexcusable.


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