I’m Glad It’s Over

Asked the same litany of questions by different medical personnel. The pre-surgical nurse, the anesthesiologist, the admissions clerk. It had to be a test. Would I slip-up and give inconsistent answers?

“Have you had any surgeries before?”

“Only, if you count my tonsillectomy 57 years ago.”

“I don’t remember much about it, after all these years.”

“I can tell, there aren’t many entries on your medical records,” The charge nurse commented.

“Yes, I try to avoid invasive medical procedures–be they from space aliens or medical doctors,” I answered.

“You won’t feel a thing, once the anesthetic takes hold. It will be like going to sleep.”

I thought they would never find a vein to hook up the IV. Of course I had to wear one of those “fashionable” medical gowns, open in the back. Luckily, I was lying down covered with a blanket.

In the operating room, I waited while the staff kibitzed, and time stood still–at least it seemed that way.

An older man with gray hair came in and things got underway. It was my doctor. I didn’t have my glasses on, recognized him when he came closer.

“Lie on your left side,” Ordered the surgical nurse. “The anesthetic may burn when it enters your IV.”

That was definitely an understatement. I had a round plastic mouthpiece for the procedure.

“That hurt bad,” I attempted to communicate to the nurse.  “Don’t worry, soon the pain will go away.”

What a refreshing nap. I wanted to continue sleeping. The fog in my befuddled head lifted.  There was no one around. This wasn’t the operating room.  Somebody had some explaining to do.

It was the recovery room. The process was over. For having had an upper GI, I was none the worse for wear–except for a swollen lower lip.  Which is black and blue today.

Samples taken for biopsy will take a few days for analysis.  I was sent home with the doctor’s report, complete with color pictures of the inside of my stomach.  Not something I cared to share with friends.

Chicken Or Egg?

Which headlines were more compelling? “Cruise ship left passengers stranded in foreign port of call,” “Passengers missed ship departure, because of failure to keep track of time.”

I cringe every time I see the first headline.  Because the implication is, “Once again, the big, mean, cruise lines stomped on the rights of passengers.” What about the rights of the rest of the passengers that were on time?  Not that departure times weren’t publicized well in advance.

Received my sleep apnea home study kit today. The next two nights, I will retire with monitors to check breathing, heart rate, oxygen concentration. After two previous unsuccessful attempts, a home improvement project was completed today.  I’m tired.  Probably a good thing.

Another Birthday

This blog is celebrating its seventh birthday.  From a suggestion, It came to be.  My FB posts were like blog posts.  I no longer share blog posts with FB.  However, still share with Twitter.

There have been challenges to blogging this summer.  My wife’s health issues, most of all.  For now, she is on the mend, taking everything in stride. The vertebral compression fracture, which wasn’t at first discovered, gives her the most discomfort.

Something I didn’t need, was an attempt by miscreants to hijack my computer.  A sinister-looking red screen, fake error message, having to do with my browser, a toll-free number to call.  Their goal–it didn’t get that far–to hold my accounts hostage.  I stopped this lunacy with hard shut downs of my PC.

Why was I paying for internet security?  It didn’t seem to be working.  The laptop was attacked last night.  Shut downs were more difficult.  I had to take the battery out of its compartment each time.  I’ve since changed browsers.  So far, so good.

 

Java Jive (The Story Continued)

Another coffee study. This one by the University of Nottingham, alleges coffee could aid in weight loss. Because it helps the body burn brown fat. Which in turn could help prevent diabetes.

Don’t get me wrong. This is just another in a long series of studies on the beneficial/harmful effects of coffee consumption. It wasn’t that long ago, coffee was theorized to prevent alzheimers. Since I love coffee, I hope the positive effects are true.

Java, Cup of Joe, whatever you call it, what you add to it, is what makes it calorie-laden, fat-infused and unhealthy.  Of course, what ever turns out to be true, all good things should be consumed in moderation.

“Could I get a coffee refill, please?  No cream or sugar, just black.”

Being a Caregiver

Being a caregiver is full of challenges.  My sympathies to those caught up in bureaucratic red tape on a regular basis.  Dealing with doctors, hospitals, medical clinics is time consuming, and frustrating.

At the lab, we were recently turned away, because the phlebotomist couldn’t find the diagnosis code on medical forms.  A trip back to the orthopedist’s office.  There a nurse pointed out, the code had been there all the time.  Back to the lab for the second time.

Not that I haven’t had past caregiving experience.  It was just five years ago that my spouse suffered a severe wrist fracture.  We made it through.  That time she was mobile.  This time, with a fractured pelvis, she is dependent on the use of a walker.

Handicapped parking spaces are now important.  My wife has started getting out and about.  Some local restaurants and businesses are more friendly, to handicapped persons than others.

It had been at least 35 years since I last visited a Waffle House.  I think it was on a vacation trip to Orlando, Florida.  It hadn’t changed much in all those years.  Waffle House restaurants–you either love them or hate them.

On line restaurant reviews weren’t always truthful.  A local downtown diner/greasy spoon, was a disappointment.  The food was mediocre. The place cramped and dingy.  Prices were too high.

 

Bumps In the Road

My main blogging PC crashed a week ago.  My visiting son-in-law installed a new wireless router and fixed my newest PC–that also had issues.  I’m, once again, soaring into the blogosphere.

Perhaps some of you have submitted DNA samples to one of those genealogy websites?  Formerly a skeptic, my spouse participated.

During the fifties, in rural Mid-America, extra-marital affairs were kept hush-hush.  Her paternal grandfather, was not blood-related?  She’d heard  whispers during family gatherings as a child.

Not long after DNA results were tallied, the e-mails began.  An unknown person with a considerable amount of shared DNA.  A long-lost cousin?  Surely, it couldn’t be true.

In discussions, a young lady in her forties, from my wife’s hometown, revealed details about her family.  There were too many coincidences.  Family pictures shared, and the secret was out.

There were no living relatives, to confirm or deny.  Family secrets–should they be kept secret?  I inclined to think they should be, unless it’s for health reasons.

If only computer problems and genetics were the worst things that happened this week.  On Tuesday, my wife slipped and fell while debarking from a dolphin cruise excursion boat.  She fractured her pelvis in two places.  As bad as it was, it could have been worse.

Nothing was displaced, and she can ambulate cautiously with a walker.  A painful injury to be sure.  Our visiting daughter is a nurse.  She helped to clarify questions regarding prognosis and treatment.  For the near future, I’m stepping up my game around the house.

 

 

 

Sometimes Things Go Astray

Since last weekend, I’ve had muscle spasms in my back. Today, at least, the pain moderated. That was, until someone parked too close, at the gym. Crawling across the front seats from the passenger side, didn’t help matters.

A windshield rock chip was repaired this afternoon. That also occurred unexpectedly last weekend.

Tuesday, I noticed something on one of the car’s back tires, upon retrieving trash bins from the curb.

It was a large galvanized nail, bent over, but the business end was stuck in the tire. It was discovered before my dog’s trip to the vet for annual shots and checkup.

I was sweating raindrops, until we got back home. The tire held air until I made it the repair shop. Of course, the tire was unrepairable.  I was out the expense of a new tire.

Every day is a new day. Sometimes things just go wrong.