Regardless of the situation, no matter how hopeless the outcome may be, I will never quit, and I will never back down. I have become the wolf.

Posts tagged ‘hospital’

I’m Home!!!

And all that good crap.  I’m just glad I made it home with all my parts intact.

Really, I was glad Joe took me in.  Looking back, three weeks ago I got stomach flu which ended me in the hospital for several days.  I had a week to get better and we went to a dinner party and three people sat next to me and started a conversation which firmly ended when I stood up after they announced “I have a terrible chest cold, don’t you hate coming to parties ill?”  No, what i truly hate are people who come to parties ill knowing that they may infect others who can’t fight it as well as you.  (I honestly don’t think I was that polite, I really don’t.)

Monday was spent feeling generally crappy.  Moped around the house, bitched, whined and complained.  When I wasn’t  bitching I was sleeping.  My chest felt like it had an iron band wrapped around it.  Not good.  Went to doctors and he (oh e oh ah ah, ting tang, walla walla, bing bang) Sorry reverted to childhood there.  Thinking witch doctor.  Anyway, he tells me I’m sick, I have an infection in my lung.  He gives me a shot in the butt and a prescription for some Mega Antibiotics.  I go home, back to sleep.

Tuesday, I came down with Pleurisy.  This is an infection of the  Plenum, the lining around the lung that protects it from the ribs. This infection causes extreme pain when you cough, sneeze, inhale.  And I had to cough.  My lungs were still full of fluid, more like peanut butter, and I had to get it out.  Every time I coughed I had to grab my ribs on my left side and squeeze as tight as I could, lean into the wall and hope it passed quickly.  It didn’t.

Wednesday, I fought it.  Coughing was becoming a contact sport with the wall.  I was fighting to clear this crud up.  I  even tried that crap, you know, the one with the green snots dancing till dawn then getting kicked out.  Waste of $8  if you ask me.  I was up all night coughing with a stabbing pain in my side.

Thursday early, I finally Vicodined out for a few hours, but when I woke up, it was so much worse.  I could barely draw a shallow breath.  I called Joe, told him I needed to get to ER now.  Put on my comfy socks and sweats, grabbed my hospital blanket put my slippers on and sat down to wait for him.  We get to the hospital at 10:30 am and are immediately taken into the ER.  I think the fact that my regular physician was told I was going in and he greased the skids a bit.  By the time we got there all I could take were shallow breaths.  My pulse ox was down to 85 and it was kinda scary.

By this time I am in the capable hands of my doctors and everything else until Sunday afternoon is a blur.  And unless you have pictures and can prove it in a court of law, then I’m denying, denying, denying.  I know I was sick enough to get two pints of blood and for the nurses to be really cheery around me.  Or maybe that was just me being my charming self.

Either way, I’m home now.  My own bed feels like heaven, and although I do miss the room service, it’s good to be home.


Oscar is such a champ, I’m so proud of him.

We had our first official training for Therapy dogs Inc. and he passed with flying colors.

Took him to Saint Mary’s hospital and met with the trainers and another trainee.  First thing that happens is a very large man with a very,  large Shepard approach Oscar.  The man leans down and immediately puts his hands where no-one but the vet has ever gone.  Oscar just stood there and looked at me.  He didn’t jump, or shy away or snap.  Just stood there like it was his lot in life to be fondled by strangers in a public place.  Poor baby.  He checked Oscars ears and played with his feet, made him roll over for belly rubs.  He basically made up for the rude intro by playing with him.

We then went for a tour of the hospital.  We did four floors and Os was a champ.  You’d think he’s been doing this for years.  I have to pick him up (not his favorite thing) and hold him to get some pets from the patients.  The looks on some of their faces after sitting up and rubbing cheeks with Os and cuddling his face is incredible.  They smile and laugh and show interest.  One elderly lady went from a spitting bitch to a cooing baby talker when we walked in the room.  He now stinks of Shalimar, but he put the silliest grin on her face so it was worth it.  Everyone wanted me to put him in bed with them, but that is not allowed.  So I hold him and he’s double loved, held tight by me and fondled by strangers.  To his credit, nothing fazed him.  Carts lumbering by, gurney’s surrounded by people, wheel chairs, all sorts of people bending over him and reaching for him.  He strutted around that hospital like he owned the place.  By the time we left, most of the nurses knew him by sight if not by name.

We go back Friday for a second evaluation then wait a week for a third eval.  All by different evaluators.  Once he’s certified though, he will be welcome at most hospitals and nursing homes.  This will be so good for him, and for me.  It will force me to get out of the house and interact with people, and it will force him to abandon his skittishness and accept people will be good to him.

When we got home he was so happy, he ran from Joe to Mom and just grinned from ear to ear.  I think I need to pick up some sanitizing wipes for his poor little face for afterwards.  All those hands touching his face and ears.  Yep, need wipes.

Did you ever have the nagging feeling that you have an appointment scheduled, but can’t prove it.  I’m pretty sure, anxiety  wise, that I have a test on Friday.  Somewhere out there is a medical procedure with my name on it and I can’t for the life of me figure out what it is.    My CT and MRI are both on Monday, bloodwork is done, chemo not for two more weeks, been squished, been there too ladies.  I don’t know what it could be.  I hope they call first to confirm.  That would be a good thing.

Tomorrow, I take mom out for new shoes.  The ones she has weigh about 10 lbs, and while they are support shoes, she can barely lift her feet in them.  I get nervous taking her for walks, afraid she’ll trip over her own shoes.  I also have to make appointments for both Joe and Mom to get their flu, pnemonia, and whooping cough shots.  I hope the kids get them this year too, my RBC’s are way down and that’s not good going into fall.

Wow, it’s 5 am.  I think I’ll stroll back to bed now.

The shot did work.  Now I just have to be careful to not overdue it even though it feels better.

And the good news is……

Apparently I don’t have any masses in my throat that she could feel (the ENT I mean).  It dawned on me just how long I’ve been her patient today.  About a year after first seeing her she got pregnant.  Her daughter just turned 17.  Gotta love doctors you can trust for so long.  Come to think of it, I’ve been seeing my Gen Physician for 19 years.  I’m a firm believer in long-term.

Anyway, the bad news is, apparently the radiation has damaged my thyroid and it may not be working anymore.  Which would explain my lack of appetite, exhaustion, upset stomach, headache, strange sleeping patterns, just a ton of things.  All of which can he helped with the addition of another pill to my arsenal of medications to be taken daily.    So if that is the sum total of my bad news for the week, I’ll take it.  And, if they need to, they can biopsy with a needle.

I’ve counted and since 2007 I have had nine major surgeries.  All of them etched into my brain like mini videos. The pre-op room, the doctors and nurses and the joking.  I always like to leave them laughing.  Being wheeled into surgery and joking with the doctors.  The one horrible surgery where I had to be awake and I begged them not to strap my arms down.  I’m so claustrophobic and that would have killed me.  I promised that doctor the moon and the stars if I could just keep my arms crossed on my chest.  He finally got a nurse to agree to sit at my head and watch my arms so I didn’t move.  It was very comforting feeling her hand on my arm through the whole thing.  Then the post-op.  Everyone all concerned and worried till you walk down and pee by yourself.  Then you can go home.  Out of the nine they only kept me after for three of them.  Love intensive care.  Hate being on the cancer ward.  I have horror stories of sharing rooms with old sick people.  (one of my roomies farted once and I gagged for three hours.  The smell wouldn’t leave.  Nurses kept spraying and nothing worked.  Shudder remembering).

Oh, but I’m forgetting, I no longer have a black hole in my back yard.  We have uncovered the pool!!!!  The new furnace works wonderfully.  I fully plan on using it this weekend.  Cooking out and hanging out.  Most of my flowers are in their pots.  I have an extra low maintenance yard.  Keeping the pool cleaned is the hardest part, but I do love vacuuming it.  It’s so quiet and peaceful in the morning.  I can stop and think and just be for a short time.  I love watching Oscar play “George of the Jungle” with the Yucca and the other bushes that we have.  He stalks ground squirrels and chipmunks with ferocious dedication.

I’m off to grab a snack and just chill for the rest of the evening.  I hope everyone makes the most of every day.

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