...or however you spell it.
Today is one of the happiest days of my life.
My Multiple Myeloma is in "forced remission" which is the absolute best state of being that a Myeloma Cancer patient can be in.
After many, many tests of all kinds, the cause of the chronic blood infection I had which was throwing me alternately into tremors trying to get warm to night sweats because I was too hot and trying to stuff me in the Tuff Shed at the same time...and this had been going on since November last!...was found and taken care of.
The C-diff intestinal bacterial issues have been made to dissappear.
AND Today the last of my Dr.s up here (I've got one more to consult in Denver) has declared me pert ne'er as healthy as I'll ever get because the mass in my lung which just few months ago they biopsied to see if it was cancerous (it warn't) had just disappered completely and gave me the "green light", as has all my other Docs, to continue with re-hab for a bit and then ease myself back "into the mainstreet of life", as my friend Vicky would say.
Tonight, looking back what most vividly comes to mind is that, "prayer works."
Thanks for all your prayers...
Monday, July 18, 2011
Saturday, July 16, 2011
I feel like I should be the target/subject of a Marty Robbins Country Western Ballad...
Huh?
Well, seems it's been since June 10th past that I have posted...I promised to do better.
Perhaps it's been that a lot has happened since then?
Lemme tell you, we're fighting this "ill-health" stuff with everything I have and a lot I don't have, and in the not too distant future I will be as re-healthy as I can be and both back at my vocation and avocation with all the enthusiasm and passion I can muster.
This I promise.
Now we're gonna talk about the past 6 weeks...the names have been changed to protect the innocent, the guilty, the selfish, the altruistic, the ignorant, the sheep, the undeclared motivationists and everybody else involved.
Okay, post June 10th posting I have found my self back in the hospital and rehab twice :-(.
Once because of the results of the sudden onslaught of a high fever, 104 degree fever that brought on not shivers but uncontrollable tremors that could not, would not stop.
And again because of high fever, sans tremors.
My Docs have been really puzzled over the blood infections that causes sooooo many of my health woes, and after intraconsultation decided to remove both my Super Port and my Three Lumen Hickman (the devices through which for the past year+ I have been receiving chemo, having blood drawn, transfusions of both blood and platelets, re hydration fluids, magnesium, potassium and who knows what else...oh, yeah, stem cells in and out.) feeling that perhaps they were the source of infection.
Wellst, they removed them both, set me up with an IV and, "poof", the infection is gone and the conclusion is that it was the ports that had been causing the blood infection problems all the way back to my stays in the University of Colorado Hospital in Denver.
So anywho, during time of these procedures and discoveries, I wake up to a posse {Now begins the Monty Robbins Ballad in a non-musical genre} surrounding my bed!
I'm a little groggy, but this is what I hear, see and feel...
Within a few moments one of my Docs came in for morning rounds and I tell him of the saga of being encaptured, arrested, tried, convicted and sentenced.
With some emotion I might add, he pondered, "I wonder how they came to this conclusion without talking to your doctor?"
He told me to take it easy, my blood pressure needn't any more stressors and to get a hold of someone from the hospital patient advocacy department, which I did.
The advocate came up and reiterated that I had nothing to worry and no one could take my rights away and I could/should keep him informed.
Later that day my Neurologist PA came in with the results of Cat Scans, X-rays and MRIs and told me as far as he was concerned I was free to go home after rehab.
The next morning another of my Docs was making rounds an told me that the plan all along had been for me to finish rehab and go home and back to work.
Soooooooooooo, here's the plan.
I'm gonna finish out my time at here at rehab, because I want to, not because I have to and then I'm gonna go home and continue rehab and slowly prepare to and slowly re-enter the work world.
And this is with the blessings of my physicians and therapists.
What I am not going to do is to be herded into a 12x12 enclosure with $2,000 in assets and a $100.00 a month allowance for the rest of my life and the opportunity to play Bingo once a week, have someone read the newspaper to me in group, listen to a weekly piano player relive Liberace and an opportunity to go to Walmart once a month to spend what allowance monies I have left after hitting the vending machine all month.
Nope, that's not the plan.
More will be revealed, I'm sure.
If any of the posse reads this and takes offense....I'm sorry.
I know you were/are just trying to be of help and I do appreciate it, and I appreciate all you've done for me up to this point.
I've lost one friend over all this and I would hate to loose another.
Good Friends are hard to find and bond with.
Well, seems it's been since June 10th past that I have posted...I promised to do better.
Perhaps it's been that a lot has happened since then?
Lemme tell you, we're fighting this "ill-health" stuff with everything I have and a lot I don't have, and in the not too distant future I will be as re-healthy as I can be and both back at my vocation and avocation with all the enthusiasm and passion I can muster.
This I promise.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Now we're gonna talk about the past 6 weeks...the names have been changed to protect the innocent, the guilty, the selfish, the altruistic, the ignorant, the sheep, the undeclared motivationists and everybody else involved.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~Let me disclaim the "facts as I see them are as I see them and possibly suspect~~~
Okay, post June 10th posting I have found my self back in the hospital and rehab twice :-(.
Once because of the results of the sudden onslaught of a high fever, 104 degree fever that brought on not shivers but uncontrollable tremors that could not, would not stop.
And again because of high fever, sans tremors.
My Docs have been really puzzled over the blood infections that causes sooooo many of my health woes, and after intraconsultation decided to remove both my Super Port and my Three Lumen Hickman (the devices through which for the past year+ I have been receiving chemo, having blood drawn, transfusions of both blood and platelets, re hydration fluids, magnesium, potassium and who knows what else...oh, yeah, stem cells in and out.) feeling that perhaps they were the source of infection.
Wellst, they removed them both, set me up with an IV and, "poof", the infection is gone and the conclusion is that it was the ports that had been causing the blood infection problems all the way back to my stays in the University of Colorado Hospital in Denver.
So anywho, during time of these procedures and discoveries, I wake up to a posse {Now begins the Monty Robbins Ballad in a non-musical genre} surrounding my bed!
I'm a little groggy, but this is what I hear, see and feel...
- I'm told that I have roughly 20 days to spend down whatever funds I have and to sell off any assets to $2,000 or less because this is what will be needed for me to be Medicaid eligible.
- Once I am Medicaid eligible I can be moved to an Assisted living Care facility of some sort and my Social Security Disability and Medicare and Medicaid will be intercepted to pay my bills at the Assisted Living Center and I will be allocated $100.00 per month.
- And lucky me, this arrangement would go on for the rest of my life, "Thank you!".
~~~Again,let me disclaim that the "facts as I see them are as I see them and possibly suspect ~~~
Needless to say I'm a little shell shocked and attempt to mount a defense, even though it's 8 to 1, but I get shot down when the posse calls for a vote and the posse created question goes out to the posse, "Do you think pete can live by himself?"
Well, the vote was 8-0...surprise, surprise, surprise.
Then there were some cordial adieus, and they saddled up and rode off into the sunrise.
Funny how things work sometimes..."I feel the bullet go deep in my chest..."
Within a few moments one of my Docs came in for morning rounds and I tell him of the saga of being encaptured, arrested, tried, convicted and sentenced.
With some emotion I might add, he pondered, "I wonder how they came to this conclusion without talking to your doctor?"
He told me to take it easy, my blood pressure needn't any more stressors and to get a hold of someone from the hospital patient advocacy department, which I did.
The advocate came up and reiterated that I had nothing to worry and no one could take my rights away and I could/should keep him informed.
Later that day my Neurologist PA came in with the results of Cat Scans, X-rays and MRIs and told me as far as he was concerned I was free to go home after rehab.
The next morning another of my Docs was making rounds an told me that the plan all along had been for me to finish rehab and go home and back to work.
Soooooooooooo, here's the plan.
I'm gonna finish out my time at here at rehab, because I want to, not because I have to and then I'm gonna go home and continue rehab and slowly prepare to and slowly re-enter the work world.
And this is with the blessings of my physicians and therapists.
What I am not going to do is to be herded into a 12x12 enclosure with $2,000 in assets and a $100.00 a month allowance for the rest of my life and the opportunity to play Bingo once a week, have someone read the newspaper to me in group, listen to a weekly piano player relive Liberace and an opportunity to go to Walmart once a month to spend what allowance monies I have left after hitting the vending machine all month.
Nope, that's not the plan.
More will be revealed, I'm sure.
If any of the posse reads this and takes offense....I'm sorry.
I know you were/are just trying to be of help and I do appreciate it, and I appreciate all you've done for me up to this point.
I've lost one friend over all this and I would hate to loose another.
Good Friends are hard to find and bond with.
Friday, June 10, 2011
Home next Wednesday!!!
Have I ever asked you why that first "d" is in Wednesday? I mean, nobody, except maybe me and Kristine, one of the therapists here, pronounces it. So why is it there?
Don't you think that as a society we ought to petition Funk & Wagnalls, Websters and the rest of the Dictionary Dudes to adios it?
It would be doing the English speaking world a favor should there ever be a "d" shortage. I mean, like we could prevent a "d" shortage should the threat of one ever come about, huh?
Anywho, as it stands right now I should be expelled from the rehab next Wednesday, if not before...although the "not before" is outa my hands.
T'will be nice to get home, be home, and do home things like sleep in my own bed.
I know I have been down this path a coupla times before, but I believe this trip home is gonna stick.
I had that splendid check-up at the University of Colorado Hospital on Monday, I have been an exemplary and patient patient here to the Fort Collins Health Care Center, a.k.a. rehab, have a new found respect for diet and exercise which I've decided to keep up with when I leave here...note that I didn't say, "intend to keep up with" because the road to hell is paved with good intentions and I really don't wanna go that route.
I'm feelin' pretty good and am awaitin' my Friend Doug to come and take me to one of those A & A meetin's where, if just all by myself I can respectfully celebrate its 76th year of existence.
Don't you think that as a society we ought to petition Funk & Wagnalls, Websters and the rest of the Dictionary Dudes to adios it?
It would be doing the English speaking world a favor should there ever be a "d" shortage. I mean, like we could prevent a "d" shortage should the threat of one ever come about, huh?
Anywho, as it stands right now I should be expelled from the rehab next Wednesday, if not before...although the "not before" is outa my hands.
T'will be nice to get home, be home, and do home things like sleep in my own bed.
I know I have been down this path a coupla times before, but I believe this trip home is gonna stick.
I had that splendid check-up at the University of Colorado Hospital on Monday, I have been an exemplary and patient patient here to the Fort Collins Health Care Center, a.k.a. rehab, have a new found respect for diet and exercise which I've decided to keep up with when I leave here...note that I didn't say, "intend to keep up with" because the road to hell is paved with good intentions and I really don't wanna go that route.
I'm feelin' pretty good and am awaitin' my Friend Doug to come and take me to one of those A & A meetin's where, if just all by myself I can respectfully celebrate its 76th year of existence.
Monday, June 6, 2011
Bad day...Good day
This not so good picture is my, "I've had a not so good day".
I went to Denver to the nUniversity Hospital for my monthly checkup which went almost extremely well.
The almost is divided up into two things...or maybe more, but I don't remember any more than two at present.
#1 I got a great check up in Denver, even if I didn't see Dr. Myint in person. The Physician Assistant, who gave me her name and I knew her from my stays in the hospital down there butn Chemo Brain is kicking in and I can't remember her name, went over my blood work and most of it was excellent. The Myeloma markers...whatever they are, but it doesn't matter...arre right where they hoped they would be and they are surprised that they are still "in check" because I haven't had any chemo for a while. They would like to get me back on chemo, but they can't/won't because my platelet level isn't where it should be. Normal platelet level is 140 and today mine was 60, It's bounced around a bunceh. A couple of weeks ago it was 85. When I was in the hospital a couple of months ago it was toying with being in the twenties!
I asked her what I could do or eat to bring my platelet level up and she told me something in laymen terms that I could understand(!). Platelets are made by bone marrow and because I've had so much going on since Thanksgiving, or so, my body had a decision to make...fight what was going on, Organizing Pneumonia, C-diff, head healing from falling down, fevers, and so my bone marrow, still reeling from the transplant, could have worked on "building" platelets but it chose to fight whatever was going on, or a combination thereof.
So, that's why the emphasis on getting me healthy.
#2 I was gone this afternoon when it came time to decide what I wanted for dinner. Times before when I did that, whatever was served to me (I choose to eat in my broom...to eat in the dininng roommis just too depressing) was palatable +. The food here has been exceptional as compared to airplanem or typical hospital food.
Anywho, tonight they brought the bowl of tomato soup, potato chips and four 1/2 slices of bread that is in the bad picture above.
I called Jimmy John's across the street and had them deliver a Tuna Sub Sandwich.
The good part of the day was the excellent check up, less the platelets and that I got to drive myself to and from Denver!
I'll get to adios here when the C-diff is gone. One of the nurses here told me about an over the counter that would help in making the C-diff go away, I'm taking the prescribed meds to make it go awy, and I'm just wishing it to go away.
I think I'll be home soon!
Thursday, June 2, 2011
167.8
When I was diagnosed March before last I weighed 238...gulp (I mean that figuratively, like when you get surprised or something.)
Since somewhere in the 70s I've struggled with my weight.
They weigh m,e every day here at the rehad...Fort Collins Health Care Centre...and this morning I clocked in @ 167.8!
Think I couldd/should go on Late night TV and spew Cancer and its complications as a weight loss program and get paid for it?
I could sell bottles of Cancer pills for $29.95 for a months supply and for only 3 EZ Payments of $9.8333333333333333333333333 but if they call in the next 17 seconds we'd knock off one payment and double the shipping and handling of $7.95!
I could use Photoshop to make me look even heavier than I was and to look like I've muscleized (I wish). I could rent a Hummer and a really cool boat to flash around in the background.
Oh,yeah...I'd need a dozen or so bikini clad chicks to be swarming around, most of them on their feet.
Don't know what song to be playing in the background.
Any ideas?
And somehow ignore what the cancer journey entails and that even if you go into so-called remission, depending on the type of cancer you have it may always have cells lurking in your body. And that the complications are sometimes way more troublesome than the cancer is/was.
Which is what I'm dealing with now and what has caused the weight loss.
Loosing the weight that I have is certainly by circumstance and not by virtue.
I love my PTs and my OTs and they kick my ass sometimes during therapy, but what has caused my current weight dive, 174 last week to the 167.8 of today is the C-diff has returned.
So, it is adding more time to my stay here at the Rehab Hilton.
I'll get outa here and home someday.
The first time I contracted C-diff I was in the hospital and it took a good monyh or so to adios and those who came to visit me, including Drs. and nurses had to put on paper hazmat suits. The second time was in my second rehab and they made people gown up if they wanted to, but nobody did and here they just want to emphasize serious hand-washing.
So, how long is it (the above two colored c-diff words are links) gonna extend my stay here?
Dunno.
Ain't gonna ask.
Now, the paradox if you will.
Yesterday I went to my Pulminologist who had reviewed both my most recent chest x-ray and catscan and declared that the chest x-ray was the best since I first saw him about three years ago and the catscan showed no abnormalities in my lungs, other than the mystery mass which has been biopsied non-malignant!
I didn't know all this was included in the Adventure I wanted this to be!
Since somewhere in the 70s I've struggled with my weight.
They weigh m,e every day here at the rehad...Fort Collins Health Care Centre...and this morning I clocked in @ 167.8!
Think I couldd/should go on Late night TV and spew Cancer and its complications as a weight loss program and get paid for it?
I could sell bottles of Cancer pills for $29.95 for a months supply and for only 3 EZ Payments of $9.8333333333333333333333333 but if they call in the next 17 seconds we'd knock off one payment and double the shipping and handling of $7.95!
I could use Photoshop to make me look even heavier than I was and to look like I've muscleized (I wish). I could rent a Hummer and a really cool boat to flash around in the background.
Oh,yeah...I'd need a dozen or so bikini clad chicks to be swarming around, most of them on their feet.
Don't know what song to be playing in the background.
Any ideas?
And somehow ignore what the cancer journey entails and that even if you go into so-called remission, depending on the type of cancer you have it may always have cells lurking in your body. And that the complications are sometimes way more troublesome than the cancer is/was.
Which is what I'm dealing with now and what has caused the weight loss.
Loosing the weight that I have is certainly by circumstance and not by virtue.
I love my PTs and my OTs and they kick my ass sometimes during therapy, but what has caused my current weight dive, 174 last week to the 167.8 of today is the C-diff has returned.
So, it is adding more time to my stay here at the Rehab Hilton.
I'll get outa here and home someday.
The first time I contracted C-diff I was in the hospital and it took a good monyh or so to adios and those who came to visit me, including Drs. and nurses had to put on paper hazmat suits. The second time was in my second rehab and they made people gown up if they wanted to, but nobody did and here they just want to emphasize serious hand-washing.
So, how long is it (the above two colored c-diff words are links) gonna extend my stay here?
Dunno.
Ain't gonna ask.
Now, the paradox if you will.
Yesterday I went to my Pulminologist who had reviewed both my most recent chest x-ray and catscan and declared that the chest x-ray was the best since I first saw him about three years ago and the catscan showed no abnormalities in my lungs, other than the mystery mass which has been biopsied non-malignant!
I didn't know all this was included in the Adventure I wanted this to be!
Sunday, May 29, 2011
Down in the dumps?
I woke up this morning around 5:30 cuz my ribs were just killin' me. I've had broken ribs and that's what they feel like. All of the crud symptoms are gone except the nagging cough, and it is beyond it's "productive (hacking up "luggies") but it is still deep and it hurts ...waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.
But there was something else bugging me.
As I lay there flat on my back, the only position where there is no rib pain, and pondered, things started to fall into place in my fontal lobe...
What's better, "A bottle in front of me", or "a frontal loboltomy?"
Well, now it is two days after the waking up incident and I feel a little better...emphasis on "little".
I've talked to some friends about it and that has helped some, but it doesn't negate the fact that I've been dealing with the cancer and now the complications.
This is really gonna sound like whining, and it is, but I'm really tired and frustrated with not having a say in my life. I'm not talking about my caregivers and the people who have worked pretty damn hard to keep me alive.
I'm angry with the Multiple Myeloma, the Organized Pnuemonia, having a compromized immune system and all that goes with that.
Those are the things that prevent me from having a say in what's going on in my life. Since March 17 of last year I've been uprooted from my home and my job, spent more time in hospitals and now rehab that I have at either RE/MAX Advanced or in my own bed.
That's like over a year!
That's a long time.
My wishes for making all his an Adventure and not wanting it to go to waste are still there.
An adventure it has been and I'm not tooooo sre what not wanting it to go to waste means.
Just had my lunch and then went to brosh my teeth and I missed Aunt Bea explaining how she put a dent in the car she ain' bought yet...
Anywo, that's a long time.
Well. last night my Friend Griff stopped by. And what a surprise as he lives on the Olympic Pennisula in Washington.
He didn't stay long, but his words of wisdom, as usual, made not only a huge amount of sense but made me feel good as they do when I choose to ask and then listen.
The one point he drove home was that there is nothing I can do to change what has happened in the past and some...or many...of the things that are going to happen in the future. There are things that are entirely out of my control and there's one of two ways that I can react abut what has happened and what will happen. I can either be really pissed off and let the Dark Side rule how I think and act and caue me to become uncommunicable and depressed on both the inside and out. It'll also afect those who care for me and who want the best for me including geting well.
Or.......................
I can accept the fact that there is absolutely nothing I can do to change the past or many things, but not all, in the future. To remember that people who say, "I gusss it's just meant to be" or "Everything happens for a reason" are just using cliches to try and soften te unexplainable and that I should suggest to them they read, "When Bad Things Happen to Good People by Harold Kushnner."
He went on to tell me cliches are good for explaining physical laws, like gravity but have no bearing when it comes to the spiritual and that we are not human beings having spiritual experiences now and then but rather we are spiritual beings frequently enduring human experiences.
And in a brief minute or to he made me realize the obvious...that, yes it's been over a year but there is a light at the end of the tunnel where once there was none.
...and now it's 3 days since that wake up thing...
It's Sunday and I slept in and I have no clue how that happened. I don't remember them coming in at 6:00am to wake me up and give me meds and take my vitals. I don't remember them bringing my breakfast and setting it on my tray. But "worst" of all, I don't remember Bruce and Bonnie being here to take me to church...it's not their job to wake me up, I just don't remember them being here...and for not being ready I owe them a huge apology.
Soooooo, it's Sunday of Memorial Day Weekend, no scheduled therapy although I'll probably do some laps around the facility, but it's such a pain in the derriere to lug around the portable oxygen. I can hardly wait for the cough and crud to go away so my lungs will get back to normal and I won't have to tote the oxygen around and I can get back on track for gettin' outa here.
Matt's comin' up for "lupper".
If "brunch" is the term for a meal that is twixt the traditional times of breakfast and lunch, what is the apolitical correct term for a meal that happens twixt lunch and supper?
But there was something else bugging me.
As I lay there flat on my back, the only position where there is no rib pain, and pondered, things started to fall into place in my fontal lobe...
What's better, "A bottle in front of me", or "a frontal loboltomy?"
Well, now it is two days after the waking up incident and I feel a little better...emphasis on "little".
I've talked to some friends about it and that has helped some, but it doesn't negate the fact that I've been dealing with the cancer and now the complications.
This is really gonna sound like whining, and it is, but I'm really tired and frustrated with not having a say in my life. I'm not talking about my caregivers and the people who have worked pretty damn hard to keep me alive.
I'm angry with the Multiple Myeloma, the Organized Pnuemonia, having a compromized immune system and all that goes with that.
Those are the things that prevent me from having a say in what's going on in my life. Since March 17 of last year I've been uprooted from my home and my job, spent more time in hospitals and now rehab that I have at either RE/MAX Advanced or in my own bed.
That's like over a year!
That's a long time.
My wishes for making all his an Adventure and not wanting it to go to waste are still there.
An adventure it has been and I'm not tooooo sre what not wanting it to go to waste means.
Just had my lunch and then went to brosh my teeth and I missed Aunt Bea explaining how she put a dent in the car she ain' bought yet...
Anywo, that's a long time.
Well. last night my Friend Griff stopped by. And what a surprise as he lives on the Olympic Pennisula in Washington.
He didn't stay long, but his words of wisdom, as usual, made not only a huge amount of sense but made me feel good as they do when I choose to ask and then listen.
The one point he drove home was that there is nothing I can do to change what has happened in the past and some...or many...of the things that are going to happen in the future. There are things that are entirely out of my control and there's one of two ways that I can react abut what has happened and what will happen. I can either be really pissed off and let the Dark Side rule how I think and act and caue me to become uncommunicable and depressed on both the inside and out. It'll also afect those who care for me and who want the best for me including geting well.
Or.......................
I can accept the fact that there is absolutely nothing I can do to change the past or many things, but not all, in the future. To remember that people who say, "I gusss it's just meant to be" or "Everything happens for a reason" are just using cliches to try and soften te unexplainable and that I should suggest to them they read, "When Bad Things Happen to Good People by Harold Kushnner."
He went on to tell me cliches are good for explaining physical laws, like gravity but have no bearing when it comes to the spiritual and that we are not human beings having spiritual experiences now and then but rather we are spiritual beings frequently enduring human experiences.
And in a brief minute or to he made me realize the obvious...that, yes it's been over a year but there is a light at the end of the tunnel where once there was none.
...and now it's 3 days since that wake up thing...
It's Sunday and I slept in and I have no clue how that happened. I don't remember them coming in at 6:00am to wake me up and give me meds and take my vitals. I don't remember them bringing my breakfast and setting it on my tray. But "worst" of all, I don't remember Bruce and Bonnie being here to take me to church...it's not their job to wake me up, I just don't remember them being here...and for not being ready I owe them a huge apology.
Soooooo, it's Sunday of Memorial Day Weekend, no scheduled therapy although I'll probably do some laps around the facility, but it's such a pain in the derriere to lug around the portable oxygen. I can hardly wait for the cough and crud to go away so my lungs will get back to normal and I won't have to tote the oxygen around and I can get back on track for gettin' outa here.
Matt's comin' up for "lupper".
If "brunch" is the term for a meal that is twixt the traditional times of breakfast and lunch, what is the apolitical correct term for a meal that happens twixt lunch and supper?
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
How come nobody will listen to me?
Today the Occupational Therapy department did a Safety evaluation of my house which is part of the discharge process. While there the gal that did it checked my oxygen saturation level and freaked because it was 81%.
For normal people, 90% is the benchmark, for people like me who have COPD, a.k.a. emphysema, we hang out in the mid 80%s.
Last Saturday I began to feel shitty and wound up staying in bed all day Sunday and developed a nagging cough.
Monday my Dr. said I was just coming down with the “crud” that’s going around and put me back on 1.5 liters (not much) of oxygen o help with my breathing.
Well, this afternoon everybody except me panicked at the 81% after I got back from the evaluation and said that I needed to go to the hospital and get checked out.
I cried, “Bullshit” and thought I had made my point.
In the meantime Bert stopped by for a visit when all of a sudden there are 3 paramedics and a gurney trying to load me up and take me to the hospital…which is one block away!
Well, a verbal war broke out. No way was I going to endorse a $3,000 1 block ride in an ambulance but I thought the whole thing a waste of time.
I wound up refusing the opportunity to go lights and siren for one block but agreed to go to the hospital to get checked out.
Bert drove me over, stayed for a bit…it’s about 4:00… and I wound up having a catscan, blood work and tests (for the third day in a row at the hospital) and with all the waiting involved it was pushing 9:00 before the med-brains at the hospital decided there was nothing the matter with me except the vestiges of the crud.
Sooooooooooooooooooooooooooo, by the time the rehab got a wheelchair over to the hospital, better than an ambulance, because they wouldn’t let me walk it was 10:00ish before I got “home”.
Sheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeesh.
For normal people, 90% is the benchmark, for people like me who have COPD, a.k.a. emphysema, we hang out in the mid 80%s.
Last Saturday I began to feel shitty and wound up staying in bed all day Sunday and developed a nagging cough.
Monday my Dr. said I was just coming down with the “crud” that’s going around and put me back on 1.5 liters (not much) of oxygen o help with my breathing.
Well, this afternoon everybody except me panicked at the 81% after I got back from the evaluation and said that I needed to go to the hospital and get checked out.
I cried, “Bullshit” and thought I had made my point.
In the meantime Bert stopped by for a visit when all of a sudden there are 3 paramedics and a gurney trying to load me up and take me to the hospital…which is one block away!
Well, a verbal war broke out. No way was I going to endorse a $3,000 1 block ride in an ambulance but I thought the whole thing a waste of time.
I wound up refusing the opportunity to go lights and siren for one block but agreed to go to the hospital to get checked out.
Bert drove me over, stayed for a bit…it’s about 4:00… and I wound up having a catscan, blood work and tests (for the third day in a row at the hospital) and with all the waiting involved it was pushing 9:00 before the med-brains at the hospital decided there was nothing the matter with me except the vestiges of the crud.
Sooooooooooooooooooooooooooo, by the time the rehab got a wheelchair over to the hospital, better than an ambulance, because they wouldn’t let me walk it was 10:00ish before I got “home”.
Sheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeesh.
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