I actually felt the beam or whatever it is hit my left side today! Weird! I could have used a pointer and matched the feel of the beam and the feel of the pointer. I bet they would have matched. It didn’t hurt; it was just sensation.
So, I really, really concentrated on the chest and right side treatments, but didn’t feel a thing. Nurse Paula said that they had delivered the exact dose they intended; they had a gauge on me.
I pay attention more than most folks, I guess. Sometimes I can “taste” the dye they use for CT scans. But then, I’m also looking for something. If I weren’t, I wouldn’t have noticed it.
~~~~~~~~
Which brings me to my final hospital bitch.
If you check Figure 4 in the photo essay of a Port Access, you will notice that Diehl Martin mentions a chemical spray they use to numb the skin prior to accessing the port. The hospital doesn’t use it!
That poor port has been accessed countless times by a needle that isn’t exactly a small gauge. It can get tender!
Now, there are stories about how my grandfather, the Norwegian, could roll up his sleeve and stick a knitting needle in his bicep deep enough that it stood straight up.
I’ve sat perfectly still while my mother slit my skin with a razor blade and probed with a needle to remove an old bullet fragment that had worked its way to the surface and was causing some discomfort. Since she doesn’t believe in alcohol except to sterilize things, I didn’t get any anesthesia prior to her surgery. 8- )
I’m no stranger to pain. I’ve been shot, stuck, cut, and sometimes I’ve done it to myself. And there were even a few times when it was on purpose.
But I don’t like to have to endure pain when I don’t have to. And if it is possible to feel a beam of radiation, imagine what a needle feels like!
There, that’s out of my system. Maybe I can let it go….
~~~~~~~~~
Dammit! Amazing Grace just came on the mp3 player. Bagpipes. Damn, damn, damn!
My best friend and hunting buddy, Rawley, died nine years ago, next month. At his request, we played that song at his funeral. That exact recording.
Today wasn’t the day to hear that! When does the pain of loss go away?
~~~~~~~~~
I don’t know if it’s the radiation or just the progression of the disease, but I have to be very careful when I eat. I do have some pain but it isn’t too bad. Yet. ;- )
The gas in my stomach backs solid (and not so solid) food up against the tumor, which then blocks the sphincter, so I can’t expel the gas. The tumor gets compressed and doesn’t like it. I’m waiting for the time when I try to regurgitate the tumor. I can’t say, “regurgitate,” can I? No, it means "to cast up again." It was never “up” in the first place. Whatever the word, I’m waiting for it to try and make an appearance.
BTW, what does fruit have? Fiber? Bulk? I’m finding out that it’s not a good idea to eat much fruit. (As I reach over and snag a grape; the alcohol comes later. Again, kidding, :- ) although I’m wondering if it wouldn’t help with the pain.) Looks like it’s back to the Ensure for a while.
~~~~~~~~~
Ben and I are planning on seeing the movie, Cloverfield, this weekend. I’m looking forward to it. Maybe I’ll pop a movie in the computer and watch one now. Take my mind off my troubles.
Later! Kunolunkwa!
"As a juror, I will exercise my 1000-year-old duty to arrive at a verdict, not just on the basis of the facts of a particular case, or instructions I am given, but through my power to reason, my knowledge of the Bill of Rights, and my individual conscience. When needful, I will judge the law itself." -L. Neil Smith
Friday, January 18, 2008
Thursday, January 17, 2008
Radiation Therapy, Day 1
From the title you should gather that today was my first day of radiation therapy, and you’d be right! I’m sure that y’all have had X-rays done. That’s pretty much the procedure. Except in this case, the “head” of the machine does move around me to several different positions to “zap” me.
I got a chance to talk to the nutritionist, Nutritionist Lisa, who is taking the place of Nutritionist Amy who is moving on to greater challenges in the hospital. Looks nothing like N. Amy. I don’t know if I mentioned it, but I ran into another Nutritionist Amy on the hospital-side of things when I was stuck over there for several days last week. You remember. Well, the hospital N. Amy looked a lot like the VLCC N. Amy only with shorter blonde hair.
Now I have chemobrain. My memory can play tricks on me. So, I was confused for a few minutes when the hospital version walked into the room. When I explained my confusion, she said another patient had just told her the same thing!!
Anyway, N. Lisa and I had a great talk about my nutrition. Even though I’m not eating the way that they would like, I’m not losing any weight so whatever I’m doing must be working.
I learned a few things from her and she learned a bunch from me! :-) She didn’t even know about the “polymeal.” What kind of nutritionist doesn’t know about the polymeal? Actually, I’m surprised that Wikipedia even has an article on it.
As an aside, please note that the polymeal article mentions that alcohol reduces clotting! Since that seems to be an issue with me right now, I’m gonna hafta start drinking, again!!!! Since I’m allergic to the red wine mentioned, here come the grapes and Southern Comfort, or the Jose Cuervo, or if I can get a supply of it, the Cubano Anejo!
(It was a joke! Or at least, I think it was a joke. I could be wrong. I have been wrong before, you know!)
BUT, while we were talking nutrition after my radiation treatment, I started to get my “hiccups.” I always thought that they were a SFX (side effect) of one of my chemo drugs. So, since I hadn’t just had chemo, I wondered out loud what could be the problem and answered my own question. I realized very quickly that the “hiccup” was my tumor responding to getting kinda sick today with all the radiation passing through it. Just like it gets sick after all those chemo drugs start to make it sick. Pretty quick, huh? I still got it!
Maybe shortly my tumor won’t be giving me any problems about sharing my stomach with food!! :-D
~~~~~~~~~
I finally, finally, finally got some of my imaging today that I asked for how many months ago and that Dr. P said that he would get for me, when one of my kids was with me as a witness in the office. The files say they were written on 12/14/2007. I got it slightly more than one month later. It took over a month to get to me. You can tell how high I rate, as a customer, on their priority list.
I’m going to have to learn a new software program to do anything with the images, but, Good Gorram, was the initial tumor HUGE!
The other part of my learning curve will be to remember my anatomy! Some of the things I’m seeing aren’t the tumor, but actually things like the heart and the bladder. Yes, I do know which is which. But it’s just strange poring over images of my own insides!
So, Ben and I will work on that over the next couple of days.
~~~~~~~~~
Just to correct my daughter, the anthropologist, but since AmerIndians are more of my specialty than hers, I’d just like to set the record straight.
She mentioned that the T-shirt that she and Ben had gotten for me had four Indian tribes named on it. They weren’t tribes; they were actual Indian names. Geronimo, who was often considered a chief, was in actuality a shaman and medicine man. He was also, probably, the fiercest warrior the Apache has ever produced. His last wish was to return to his homeland, but he died a prisoner of war in Oklahoma, February 17, 1909.
Chappo was also named on the t-shirt. Chappo was a son to Geronimo, while Perico (Spanish for parrot) was brother to Geronimo. Chihuahua, also named, was also a member of their merry band that fought off over 5,000 American troops for over 2 years.
Now you know why those four were mentioned with regard to Homeland Security, and why I like the shirt so very, very much. It even has my blood on it now from that Lovenox needle with the bent tip. Which reminds me, I gotta do some wash!
And, yes, I had to look up the names. My memory isn’t as good as it once was, but I’m just happy to remember that two of the names were associated with Geronimo.
BTW, Geronimo’s youngest son was named Naiche. That name is very close to the Cheyenne word for “thank you” –nia’ish, that plays a part in the movie The Last of the Dog Men. I had briefly considered the Apache spelling as a name for another dog, if I ever got another. My first was a black lab that I named Otsitsi (sounds like the French name, Gigi, O’gigi). I miss her!
Hmmm? Oh, it’s the first Oneida word I ever learned-BEER!
~~~~~~~~~
Before I got home today and found Amy’s post on the blog, I was thinking about something that she had said in a comment a while back.
I have mentioned before that I have noticed a personality change in myself over the course of my disease. Normally, I try to minimize the “visible” changes as much as possible. But today, since I was out for the first time in a while and that’s usually when I notice the difference, I started to wonder if the change is getting noticeable to the folks who know me best, my kids.
So, Ben and Amy, are you starting to notice the change? Any specifics or just a gut feeling? Anybody?
~~~~~~~~~
I did do some shoveling today. More snow blowing than shoveling, but it quickly tuckered me out and started a coughing fit. I feel like I should be doing more, physically, but at the same time, I realize the need to husband my strength. It can create an internal dilemma. Maybe this should have gone in the section above.
I just heard a loud noise, the wind and snow are blowing and my hearing is getting poor, so I got up to investigate. Si, con mi pistola en mi mano! It wasn't time for Ben to be home so I had to check.
But now I’m back at the computer and coughing up a storm. Move, get tired, and cough a lot, or sit around and do nothing but play on the computer?
I have been drinking more fruit juice lately, usually V-8, and tonight when I couldn’t even eat the soup and rice I had for lunch, I ate some melon, pineapple, and grape chunks that I picked up at the store today. It hurt for a while, but did taste pretty good. And the melon pieces they put in those trays don’t usually have much in the way of flavor.
Amy, I also picked up the bruchetta “sauce” that I had seen at Woodman’s when you were here. It must be kinda like a “pico de gallo.” If I can figure out how to eat the bruchetta, maybe the pico de gallo will be next! Italian to Mexican! :-)
I can’t think of anything else right now. There’s still something else to bitch about from my hospital stay, but I can’t think of it right now. Maybe later.
Kunolunkwa!
"As a juror, I will exercise my 1000-year-old duty to arrive at a verdict, not just on the basis of the facts of a particular case, or instructions I am given, but through my power to reason, my knowledge of the Bill of Rights, and my individual conscience. When needful, I will judge the law itself." -L. Neil Smith
I got a chance to talk to the nutritionist, Nutritionist Lisa, who is taking the place of Nutritionist Amy who is moving on to greater challenges in the hospital. Looks nothing like N. Amy. I don’t know if I mentioned it, but I ran into another Nutritionist Amy on the hospital-side of things when I was stuck over there for several days last week. You remember. Well, the hospital N. Amy looked a lot like the VLCC N. Amy only with shorter blonde hair.
Now I have chemobrain. My memory can play tricks on me. So, I was confused for a few minutes when the hospital version walked into the room. When I explained my confusion, she said another patient had just told her the same thing!!
Anyway, N. Lisa and I had a great talk about my nutrition. Even though I’m not eating the way that they would like, I’m not losing any weight so whatever I’m doing must be working.
I learned a few things from her and she learned a bunch from me! :-) She didn’t even know about the “polymeal.” What kind of nutritionist doesn’t know about the polymeal? Actually, I’m surprised that Wikipedia even has an article on it.
As an aside, please note that the polymeal article mentions that alcohol reduces clotting! Since that seems to be an issue with me right now, I’m gonna hafta start drinking, again!!!! Since I’m allergic to the red wine mentioned, here come the grapes and Southern Comfort, or the Jose Cuervo, or if I can get a supply of it, the Cubano Anejo!
(It was a joke! Or at least, I think it was a joke. I could be wrong. I have been wrong before, you know!)
BUT, while we were talking nutrition after my radiation treatment, I started to get my “hiccups.” I always thought that they were a SFX (side effect) of one of my chemo drugs. So, since I hadn’t just had chemo, I wondered out loud what could be the problem and answered my own question. I realized very quickly that the “hiccup” was my tumor responding to getting kinda sick today with all the radiation passing through it. Just like it gets sick after all those chemo drugs start to make it sick. Pretty quick, huh? I still got it!
Maybe shortly my tumor won’t be giving me any problems about sharing my stomach with food!! :-D
~~~~~~~~~
I finally, finally, finally got some of my imaging today that I asked for how many months ago and that Dr. P said that he would get for me, when one of my kids was with me as a witness in the office. The files say they were written on 12/14/2007. I got it slightly more than one month later. It took over a month to get to me. You can tell how high I rate, as a customer, on their priority list.
I’m going to have to learn a new software program to do anything with the images, but, Good Gorram, was the initial tumor HUGE!
The other part of my learning curve will be to remember my anatomy! Some of the things I’m seeing aren’t the tumor, but actually things like the heart and the bladder. Yes, I do know which is which. But it’s just strange poring over images of my own insides!
So, Ben and I will work on that over the next couple of days.
~~~~~~~~~
Just to correct my daughter, the anthropologist, but since AmerIndians are more of my specialty than hers, I’d just like to set the record straight.
She mentioned that the T-shirt that she and Ben had gotten for me had four Indian tribes named on it. They weren’t tribes; they were actual Indian names. Geronimo, who was often considered a chief, was in actuality a shaman and medicine man. He was also, probably, the fiercest warrior the Apache has ever produced. His last wish was to return to his homeland, but he died a prisoner of war in Oklahoma, February 17, 1909.
Chappo was also named on the t-shirt. Chappo was a son to Geronimo, while Perico (Spanish for parrot) was brother to Geronimo. Chihuahua, also named, was also a member of their merry band that fought off over 5,000 American troops for over 2 years.
Now you know why those four were mentioned with regard to Homeland Security, and why I like the shirt so very, very much. It even has my blood on it now from that Lovenox needle with the bent tip. Which reminds me, I gotta do some wash!
And, yes, I had to look up the names. My memory isn’t as good as it once was, but I’m just happy to remember that two of the names were associated with Geronimo.
BTW, Geronimo’s youngest son was named Naiche. That name is very close to the Cheyenne word for “thank you” –nia’ish, that plays a part in the movie The Last of the Dog Men. I had briefly considered the Apache spelling as a name for another dog, if I ever got another. My first was a black lab that I named Otsitsi (sounds like the French name, Gigi, O’gigi). I miss her!
Hmmm? Oh, it’s the first Oneida word I ever learned-BEER!
~~~~~~~~~
Before I got home today and found Amy’s post on the blog, I was thinking about something that she had said in a comment a while back.
I have mentioned before that I have noticed a personality change in myself over the course of my disease. Normally, I try to minimize the “visible” changes as much as possible. But today, since I was out for the first time in a while and that’s usually when I notice the difference, I started to wonder if the change is getting noticeable to the folks who know me best, my kids.
So, Ben and Amy, are you starting to notice the change? Any specifics or just a gut feeling? Anybody?
~~~~~~~~~
I did do some shoveling today. More snow blowing than shoveling, but it quickly tuckered me out and started a coughing fit. I feel like I should be doing more, physically, but at the same time, I realize the need to husband my strength. It can create an internal dilemma. Maybe this should have gone in the section above.
I just heard a loud noise, the wind and snow are blowing and my hearing is getting poor, so I got up to investigate. Si, con mi pistola en mi mano! It wasn't time for Ben to be home so I had to check.
But now I’m back at the computer and coughing up a storm. Move, get tired, and cough a lot, or sit around and do nothing but play on the computer?
I have been drinking more fruit juice lately, usually V-8, and tonight when I couldn’t even eat the soup and rice I had for lunch, I ate some melon, pineapple, and grape chunks that I picked up at the store today. It hurt for a while, but did taste pretty good. And the melon pieces they put in those trays don’t usually have much in the way of flavor.
Amy, I also picked up the bruchetta “sauce” that I had seen at Woodman’s when you were here. It must be kinda like a “pico de gallo.” If I can figure out how to eat the bruchetta, maybe the pico de gallo will be next! Italian to Mexican! :-)
I can’t think of anything else right now. There’s still something else to bitch about from my hospital stay, but I can’t think of it right now. Maybe later.
Kunolunkwa!
"As a juror, I will exercise my 1000-year-old duty to arrive at a verdict, not just on the basis of the facts of a particular case, or instructions I am given, but through my power to reason, my knowledge of the Bill of Rights, and my individual conscience. When needful, I will judge the law itself." -L. Neil Smith
Some thoughts to share....
Thanks Dad and Nettie for the feedback on my question. While I wasn't just talking about your venting on the blog, Dad, I understand that venting in real life serves the same purpose ;-). I know how stubborn you are, and I just don't want you to hesitate to ask for help or express your needs if/when you feel them.
If your insurance will pay for housing if you go to H. Lee Moffitt in Tampa, can I bill your insurance if you stay with ME ;-)!?!? Just think about it, we may be able to get you some income out of this deal, yet ;-).
Ronnie and Cuz (in the pic above with Dad) gave us each a Danish Christmas beer when they were visiting GB. They wanted feedback once we tasted them. Well, Mike and I shared that beer awhile ago, and I've been forgetting to share my thoughts. Now, mind you, I've never been a beer drinker, so my opinion isn't very experienced. I thought it was good, but a bit strong. The aftertaste reminded me a bit of soy sauce ;-). Mike said it was similar to some of the dark ales he's tasted before. It was very interesting, but not being a beer drinker, I wouldn't be chugging them anytime soon ;-).
On that note, I wanted to share a few pics from my trip home. Also, Dad, Cuz and Ronnie - please email me any pics you took while we were all up there. The first pic above is Dad in his winter PJ's, on the phone, with his stocking cap on. I just like the pic, so thought I'd share ;-).
Dad really enjoyed a T-Shirt Ben and I got him, and said he wanted a pic of it on his blog, so I'm FINALLY posting one. Here it is, Dad, enjoy ;-). It says, "HOMELAND SECURITY: [names of four indian tribes]: FREEDOM IS NOT FREE: FIGHTING TERRORISM." You can see the image for yourself. I'm glad you liked it, Dad ;-).
xoxoxo,
Amy
P.S. How did 1st day of radiation go?
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
"Thinking of You"
I got a card from the hospital today, wishing me comfort, peace, and hope. There were five signatures, three of which were HUCs. I had to look that up ‘cause I didn’t know what a health unit coordinator was. As it was, I didn’t recognize any of the names. It was a nice gesture, but it would have helped had I had contact with the people who signed the card. *sigh*
I was also hoping to learn the name of that nurse on nights! :-)
I started to make good on a promise elsewhere. I started to reread Glory Road by Robert Heinlein. I’m just about halfway through. I’m surprised by how much I’d forgotten although I’m remembering quite a bit. It’s funny what you mind forgets. Now, it’s been decades since I read this, but I can’t see how I ever thought that this book was a “juvenile!”
I had Ben mail some bills for me today. I did get up later and walk across the street so I guess I could have mailed them myself. I’m still moving slow with some pain in the right leg. Maybe another clot?
I still have the cough so it should be interesting tomorrow during radiation. And did I mention that I’m back on soft food? I guess that stomach tumor just doesn’t like to share its living quarters with solid food. So, back to warm soups.
Got an email from my HR person today. She finally took my advice about curamin and she says that it is helping some. I told her that she has to build up a level in her blood before it really becomes effective. I also told her to make sure she’s getting enough magnesium. That’s one “take-away” I’m glad I got from all this clinic stuff.
She also mentioned that her mother-in-law passed away on the ninth. They had told her that she had 4-6 months on the third of this month. At 78, I believe, it looks like she didn’t want to stick around for the fight. I do know the feeling after having been so sick for so long. Pero, yo soy testarudo!! I’m stubborn!! So I have that working for me.
Gonna stop now and try to get more reading in before Ben comes home.
"As a juror, I will exercise my 1000-year-old duty to arrive at a verdict, not just on the basis of the facts of a particular case, or instructions I am given, but through my power to reason, my knowledge of the Bill of Rights, and my individual conscience. When needful, I will judge the law itself." -L. Neil Smith
I was also hoping to learn the name of that nurse on nights! :-)
I started to make good on a promise elsewhere. I started to reread Glory Road by Robert Heinlein. I’m just about halfway through. I’m surprised by how much I’d forgotten although I’m remembering quite a bit. It’s funny what you mind forgets. Now, it’s been decades since I read this, but I can’t see how I ever thought that this book was a “juvenile!”
I had Ben mail some bills for me today. I did get up later and walk across the street so I guess I could have mailed them myself. I’m still moving slow with some pain in the right leg. Maybe another clot?
I still have the cough so it should be interesting tomorrow during radiation. And did I mention that I’m back on soft food? I guess that stomach tumor just doesn’t like to share its living quarters with solid food. So, back to warm soups.
Got an email from my HR person today. She finally took my advice about curamin and she says that it is helping some. I told her that she has to build up a level in her blood before it really becomes effective. I also told her to make sure she’s getting enough magnesium. That’s one “take-away” I’m glad I got from all this clinic stuff.
She also mentioned that her mother-in-law passed away on the ninth. They had told her that she had 4-6 months on the third of this month. At 78, I believe, it looks like she didn’t want to stick around for the fight. I do know the feeling after having been so sick for so long. Pero, yo soy testarudo!! I’m stubborn!! So I have that working for me.
Gonna stop now and try to get more reading in before Ben comes home.
"As a juror, I will exercise my 1000-year-old duty to arrive at a verdict, not just on the basis of the facts of a particular case, or instructions I am given, but through my power to reason, my knowledge of the Bill of Rights, and my individual conscience. When needful, I will judge the law itself." -L. Neil Smith
Monday, January 14, 2008
MHE 2
When we last left our hero it was going on the night of his first day in the hospital, he was tired having been up since 6:30AM to get to his appointment at VLCC early, so he could get to his PCP’s office at 8:30AM. And we know how that worked out, don’t we?
By this time I had hooked up the computer and was on line via an unsecured WiFi link. Because it was unsecured and the hospital could read everything I wrote, I didn’t visit my blog but contented to play at some other sites. In retrospect, I could have logged my impressions to a Word document for later posting, but that would have required thinking.
It took me so long to get online because the only outlets available were on the bed, and Nurse A. didn’t know if they could be used. She put in a call to the computer area, but they never got back to the customer, I mean the patient, with an answer. The nurse on nights had no issues with using the bed outlets and plugged me right in!
So there I was, trying to sleep and couldn’t! Nothing I tried would let me sleep without chemical intervention. And no chemicals were forthcoming.
Morning came and I was still trying to get some sleep. Nurse Lisa came in to get some blood and needed another nurse to have my port accessed. I told her that I’d been up all night. The night nurse—I wish I could remember her name, she was a cutie—confirmed my story. She told Nurse Lisa that every time she came in to check on me my eyes were open!
Dr. M—the new pulmonary guy, it was his third day there—came in later, talked with me, and said he’d order some Ambien for me for later in the morning. It never came!
So Day 2, Thursday, consisted of getting a chest X-ray looking for the source of my cough.
It was fun talking to the volunteers taking me to the X-ray department. I told them that I was the only member of the world’s smallest minority. That got them interested! So I explained that, as an individual I was the only one exactly like me. Then they laughed when I explained that they too were the only members of the world’s smallest minority of people exactly like them. I had them laughing, nodding, and agreeing with me in short order. It was fun! Made my sleepless day go easier.
Not much else happened that day that I remember. I kept the lights low and tried to sleep, but sleep never came. It was only when I was playing my music down low and attempting to sleep that I noticed that I might, just might, have dozed for a minute or two. Never for very long, I just missed hearing the entire song a couple of times.
Night came and I got my sleeping pill. Blissful sleep! I had them close the door so the hall noise wouldn’t disturb me, but it wasn’t necessary. I slept until they awakened me to do vitals and I went right back to sleep.
I had been awake, or almost so, for 39 hours!!!!!! The nurses were amazed that I was still functioning, and functioning as well as I was! 39 freakin’ hours because they didn’t pay attention to my personal meds.
Did I mention that I didn’t get all of my blood pressure meds? They were driving me nuts, not giving my meds on time, not giving me the meds I would have been taking at home—they gave me Prilosec instead of Protonix, so why do I need the more expensive med at home?—and not giving me my supplements, obviously!
Let me take a moment to describe how they had me trussed up. I had had my port accessed and fluids going in there. I had a large bore IV stuck in my left ante-cubital vein at the elbow joint. They had used it for the CTPA and had just left it there. I had monitoring telemetry leads stuck all over my chest. AND, I had a nasal canula piping oxygen into my nostrils going at two liters a minute! I was all set.
Considering I had heard a Code Blue on third floor ICU and an “intervention” in the room next to me, I was glad they were so worried about me!
Day 3, Friday--I slept in until they came in to take my vitals. Now, I don’t remember if it was this particular AM, but one of the night nurses did my lung sounds. She had me sit up and put the stethoscope to my back. But the first thing I noticed was that she wasn’t listening in the normal areas; she was way outside those. She didn’t have me take any deep breaths. I just sat there waiting for the command to “Take a deep breath” and it never came. She then proceeded to listen to my heart sounds. At least she got those right!
They came in early Friday to do an echocardiogram. I later found out that my heart is in good shape although I do have some very slight leakage from one of the valves. Considering I had at least one blood clot go through my heart, it could be just a chunk that got hung up and will eventually go way. Time will tell.
I had Respiratory Therapy (RT) come in and do a treatment where I breathe a mist deep into my lungs. It’s supposed to open up the passageways, or something. The only thing it did was make me lose control of my fine muscle motor skills. I tried typing into my HP iPAQ and couldn’t even hit the letters. It did make me cough more, as well!
Later Dr M. told me that a cough was a symptom of a PE. So why were they doing RT? Especially since later the RT folks came back with an Advair inhaler and got me started on that. I think that they were trying to sell me everything they could since I was there!
I had asked Ben to bring in a telephone cable since there was a data port on the side of the phone. I could use a dial-up connection to my ISP and be able to access my accounts with considerably more confidence than by using their WiFi setup. Unfortunately, I didn’t have my account info with me so that didn’t happen. Sorry!
Day 4 was Saturday. I slept well again last night with the sleeping meds. They got me ready to go home but forgot to send my Advair inhaler with me. Checking later, it’s not even listed on the list of meds that they had for me at the hospital. They had a new med listed, the cough med that they had me on, but they never put it on the list of Discharge Prescriptions. But I wasn’t feeling well; I had had a “stomach issue” over breakfast similar to my March 16 trip to the ER and it affected my whole day apparently. I had been eating just fine until then. I was even complaining about th elack of taste! But my lack of IP-6 due to being in the hospital might have had something to do with it. Don’t know.
Anyway, I wasn’t mentally up to the challenge of keeping the doctors and nurses in line.
Ben and I stopped on the way home to pick up the one tablet of antibiotic that I needed for the next day, and the sleeping pills that they had me on. I didn’t notice at that time that the cough med wasn’t on the list.
We got home and I laid down for a nap, which I hardly ever do, and surprise, surprise, I slept until 5:00PM
I called back Saturday afternoon to find out about the cough med and was rewarded by a return call from a rather snippy Dr. M. He said that he would send the prescriptions to the pharmacy. Since I needed to update my blood pressure meds, I waited for a while and then went on line to let the pharmacy know about my needed refills. A refill for the Adair was there, but the cough med wasn’t. I waited until Monday and called my PCP.
When I went I today to pick up my meds, I refused the Advair prescription. I also found out that the cough med wasn’t a prescription med. Was that why it wasn’t on the list of Discharge Prescriptions? I have had OTC meds put on a script before. Why was this different? Or was it just one of those things a patient with chemobrain was supposed to know?
I had tried calling my son using the hospital room phone because cell phones don’t work very well in that building. I could never get him or his machine; the phone would just continue to ring. I had tried dialing just one number and listening for a recorded message; nothing. On my last day there, I found out that I had to dial for an outside line to call my son. There had been no instructions when I got there; there was no indication on the phone at all. How the heck was I supposed to know I needed an outside access number to call out?
That’s enough bitching.
Basically, I had three issues. I was anemic. I expected that, that’s what the IP-6 does to deny the cancer cells the necessary iron to live.
I had at least one blood clot that the VLCC hadn’t looked for or caught that needed to be addressed.
And I had a cough, that can be a symptom of the PE or it cold be the result of an infection. Currently it looks like it’s not an infection, letting Mike and Amy off the hook! :-D
Now, I’m just trying to catch up with the rest of my life while sleeping in due to the meds. I have Radiation Therapy backed off until Thursday and I don’t know when my next chemo will start. BTW, I saw ANOTHER oncologist; Dr. P. is on vacation. I did ask him about the Maruyama vaccine. He said that he hadn’t heard about it but that he’d look it up!
Let me know if I missed anything that you wanted to know. And if someone can get me the name of that nurse….
By this time I had hooked up the computer and was on line via an unsecured WiFi link. Because it was unsecured and the hospital could read everything I wrote, I didn’t visit my blog but contented to play at some other sites. In retrospect, I could have logged my impressions to a Word document for later posting, but that would have required thinking.
It took me so long to get online because the only outlets available were on the bed, and Nurse A. didn’t know if they could be used. She put in a call to the computer area, but they never got back to the customer, I mean the patient, with an answer. The nurse on nights had no issues with using the bed outlets and plugged me right in!
So there I was, trying to sleep and couldn’t! Nothing I tried would let me sleep without chemical intervention. And no chemicals were forthcoming.
Morning came and I was still trying to get some sleep. Nurse Lisa came in to get some blood and needed another nurse to have my port accessed. I told her that I’d been up all night. The night nurse—I wish I could remember her name, she was a cutie—confirmed my story. She told Nurse Lisa that every time she came in to check on me my eyes were open!
Dr. M—the new pulmonary guy, it was his third day there—came in later, talked with me, and said he’d order some Ambien for me for later in the morning. It never came!
So Day 2, Thursday, consisted of getting a chest X-ray looking for the source of my cough.
It was fun talking to the volunteers taking me to the X-ray department. I told them that I was the only member of the world’s smallest minority. That got them interested! So I explained that, as an individual I was the only one exactly like me. Then they laughed when I explained that they too were the only members of the world’s smallest minority of people exactly like them. I had them laughing, nodding, and agreeing with me in short order. It was fun! Made my sleepless day go easier.
Not much else happened that day that I remember. I kept the lights low and tried to sleep, but sleep never came. It was only when I was playing my music down low and attempting to sleep that I noticed that I might, just might, have dozed for a minute or two. Never for very long, I just missed hearing the entire song a couple of times.
Night came and I got my sleeping pill. Blissful sleep! I had them close the door so the hall noise wouldn’t disturb me, but it wasn’t necessary. I slept until they awakened me to do vitals and I went right back to sleep.
I had been awake, or almost so, for 39 hours!!!!!! The nurses were amazed that I was still functioning, and functioning as well as I was! 39 freakin’ hours because they didn’t pay attention to my personal meds.
Did I mention that I didn’t get all of my blood pressure meds? They were driving me nuts, not giving my meds on time, not giving me the meds I would have been taking at home—they gave me Prilosec instead of Protonix, so why do I need the more expensive med at home?—and not giving me my supplements, obviously!
Let me take a moment to describe how they had me trussed up. I had had my port accessed and fluids going in there. I had a large bore IV stuck in my left ante-cubital vein at the elbow joint. They had used it for the CTPA and had just left it there. I had monitoring telemetry leads stuck all over my chest. AND, I had a nasal canula piping oxygen into my nostrils going at two liters a minute! I was all set.
Considering I had heard a Code Blue on third floor ICU and an “intervention” in the room next to me, I was glad they were so worried about me!
Day 3, Friday--I slept in until they came in to take my vitals. Now, I don’t remember if it was this particular AM, but one of the night nurses did my lung sounds. She had me sit up and put the stethoscope to my back. But the first thing I noticed was that she wasn’t listening in the normal areas; she was way outside those. She didn’t have me take any deep breaths. I just sat there waiting for the command to “Take a deep breath” and it never came. She then proceeded to listen to my heart sounds. At least she got those right!
They came in early Friday to do an echocardiogram. I later found out that my heart is in good shape although I do have some very slight leakage from one of the valves. Considering I had at least one blood clot go through my heart, it could be just a chunk that got hung up and will eventually go way. Time will tell.
I had Respiratory Therapy (RT) come in and do a treatment where I breathe a mist deep into my lungs. It’s supposed to open up the passageways, or something. The only thing it did was make me lose control of my fine muscle motor skills. I tried typing into my HP iPAQ and couldn’t even hit the letters. It did make me cough more, as well!
Later Dr M. told me that a cough was a symptom of a PE. So why were they doing RT? Especially since later the RT folks came back with an Advair inhaler and got me started on that. I think that they were trying to sell me everything they could since I was there!
I had asked Ben to bring in a telephone cable since there was a data port on the side of the phone. I could use a dial-up connection to my ISP and be able to access my accounts with considerably more confidence than by using their WiFi setup. Unfortunately, I didn’t have my account info with me so that didn’t happen. Sorry!
Day 4 was Saturday. I slept well again last night with the sleeping meds. They got me ready to go home but forgot to send my Advair inhaler with me. Checking later, it’s not even listed on the list of meds that they had for me at the hospital. They had a new med listed, the cough med that they had me on, but they never put it on the list of Discharge Prescriptions. But I wasn’t feeling well; I had had a “stomach issue” over breakfast similar to my March 16 trip to the ER and it affected my whole day apparently. I had been eating just fine until then. I was even complaining about th elack of taste! But my lack of IP-6 due to being in the hospital might have had something to do with it. Don’t know.
Anyway, I wasn’t mentally up to the challenge of keeping the doctors and nurses in line.
Ben and I stopped on the way home to pick up the one tablet of antibiotic that I needed for the next day, and the sleeping pills that they had me on. I didn’t notice at that time that the cough med wasn’t on the list.
We got home and I laid down for a nap, which I hardly ever do, and surprise, surprise, I slept until 5:00PM
I called back Saturday afternoon to find out about the cough med and was rewarded by a return call from a rather snippy Dr. M. He said that he would send the prescriptions to the pharmacy. Since I needed to update my blood pressure meds, I waited for a while and then went on line to let the pharmacy know about my needed refills. A refill for the Adair was there, but the cough med wasn’t. I waited until Monday and called my PCP.
When I went I today to pick up my meds, I refused the Advair prescription. I also found out that the cough med wasn’t a prescription med. Was that why it wasn’t on the list of Discharge Prescriptions? I have had OTC meds put on a script before. Why was this different? Or was it just one of those things a patient with chemobrain was supposed to know?
I had tried calling my son using the hospital room phone because cell phones don’t work very well in that building. I could never get him or his machine; the phone would just continue to ring. I had tried dialing just one number and listening for a recorded message; nothing. On my last day there, I found out that I had to dial for an outside line to call my son. There had been no instructions when I got there; there was no indication on the phone at all. How the heck was I supposed to know I needed an outside access number to call out?
That’s enough bitching.
Basically, I had three issues. I was anemic. I expected that, that’s what the IP-6 does to deny the cancer cells the necessary iron to live.
I had at least one blood clot that the VLCC hadn’t looked for or caught that needed to be addressed.
And I had a cough, that can be a symptom of the PE or it cold be the result of an infection. Currently it looks like it’s not an infection, letting Mike and Amy off the hook! :-D
Now, I’m just trying to catch up with the rest of my life while sleeping in due to the meds. I have Radiation Therapy backed off until Thursday and I don’t know when my next chemo will start. BTW, I saw ANOTHER oncologist; Dr. P. is on vacation. I did ask him about the Maruyama vaccine. He said that he hadn’t heard about it but that he’d look it up!
Let me know if I missed anything that you wanted to know. And if someone can get me the name of that nurse….
Saturday, January 12, 2008
My Hospital Experience
English novelist, playwright, and short story writer, W. Somerset Maugham, wrote something that appealed to me often during my career as a Quality Manager: “It's a funny thing about life; if you refuse to accept anything but the best, you very often get it.” One corollary of that statement would be, “If you accept less-than-the-best, you will quite often get it.”
Thus starts the tale of my recent hospital experience.
Now, it’s hard to keep a timeline straight so don’t hold me to anything. I told you about Amy, my daughter, being home for Christmas, the finding of the swollen bumps near my implanted port, and the subsequent return of Amy and her “monsters” (the dogs) to her home in Tampa. So let’s start again on Wednesday, January 2.
BTW, here’s a photo essay of a port being accessed. The guy looks a lot like me only he has hair! Go with me to a chemotherapy session and that's what you will see them do to me.
I called the VLCC on Wednesday to explain the symptoms I had found, namely the soft “bumps.” Other than the lousy cough, which I attributed to a cold, I experienced no other symptoms. They invited me over for a look and I accepted.
While there, Nurse Practitioner Nancy ordered a sonogram, which revealed a blood clot in an artery leading to my right arm. They started me on Warfarin /Coumadin and Lovenox to thin my blood.
I returned the following Monday for a follow up and blood tests to determine my INR number, which would tell them how well my blood is coagulating, or not. My doctor-of-the-day, Dr. C., asked me why I was wearing a mask. I informed him that I had what I thought was a cold and that I was stingy and didn’t want to give it to anyone else, especially cancer patients with intentionally compromised immune systems. At the same time, I didn’t want to pick up anything else! He made me take the mask off.
I left the clinic that day continuing the Warfarin but not knowing what I would be doing about the Lovenox. Nothing was said about my cough. And I still felt like crap.
A Fatigue Factor (FF) of 10 would mean that I couldn’t get out of bed. An FF of 9 would mean that I could get out of bed long enough to get to the bathroom, the recliner, or the kitchen, but couldn’t stand for very long. I call it “Riding the Recliner” time.
I was somewhere around an FF of 6 or 7. I could get up and around a bit, do the dishes if there weren’t too many, but had to sit down soon. I could go to the store if I used a cart to lean on and didn’t get too many items. A quick in and out!
Tuesday, still feeling fatigued and with the cough, I decided on a reality check. I called my insurance company’s 24-hour healthcare hot line that featured real nurses. It took quite a while to bring Nurse Sheila up to speed with my conditions and how I got there. I informed her about my upcoming appointment with my Personal Care Physician (PCP) in the morning concerning my blood pressure.
She gave me some tips to ease my suffering, but made me promise “cross-my-heart-and-hope-to-live” that I would keep that doctor’s appointment.
I sometimes feel like a victim of Procrustes, who was a Greek robber with a famous bed. If you were too long for the bed, he amputated something so that you fit. If you were too short, you were put on the rack and stretched until you fit. For him, everyone had to be the same height, or else!
One of my favorite Jefferson quotes goes like this, “There is nothing more unequal, than the equal treatment of unequal people.” It would seem to fit with the Procrustes bed situation, and later, you will see, will be appropriate for my situation. And, if you get me drunk enough sometime and ask me, I might tell you how and why that quote appeals to me so much.
I went in early, before 8:00, to the VLCC to have blood drawn to test my blood clotting rate to see if the Warfarin was working. Even though I told them that I had an appointment with my PCP at 8:30 and had to leave by 8:15. they didn't get to me until 8:20!
While waiting, I found out that I had a 9:00 appointment there with the doctor-of-the-day, Dr. C. I told them that they had to tell me about such appointments and that they hadn't told me because if they had, I would have told them that I would be in my own PCP's treatment room at that time.
I walked out of the building at 8:25 at ABCMC. Six minutes later I was one quarteer of the way around Green Bay, slowing down to exit at GV only to find that the exit ramp was glazed over with ice, had been recently salted because two cars were in the ditch with two police vehicles warning other exiting drivers! It took me another 9 minutes to get the rest of the way to my doctor's office. Did I mention that I wasn't feeling well at all???
BTW, I finally got to meet the "Diane" who had cancer and was undergoing treatment as well whom I thought was so young because she kept calling me "Sir." She's not as young as I thought. Her teenage son had just returned from a trip to France with the exchange student they had had living with them! I told her if she ever wanted to talk and compare notes
that she should give me a call.
My PCP took x-rays and found nothing. His exam found nothing; my blood O2 was 100 (they look for 90-100) even though my breathing was rapid and shallow. Except for the fact that I had a nasty cough, and I felt really fatigued, NOTHING! He wanted to put me in the hospital but he had nothing to hang his hat on.
He admitted me anyway.
I drove home, got my son up early, and had him take me to the hospital before he had to head off to work. My fun started while checking in, right in the room.
I’ve told you here about my name issues. I use my first initial and middle name. It’s on my driver’s license, my social security card, and most of my documents. Has been for decades. But it drives Procrustes wanna-bes NUTS! They want a first name and middle initial. And will do anything to get it.
So, when they gave me an armband that said, “Benjamin B” and asked if that was me, I flipped out. I said, “No, that’s my father.” Actually, my father died in 1961, but that was his name, not mine.
So started what seemed like a half hour discussion/argument that didn’t end when I showed my driver’s license and insurance card. I tried to explain that I had been trying for months to get my records and my name changed in their computers to little avail, as evidenced by the conversation I was having. We finally compromised; I put the armband on until they could get another one, while they made copies of my driver’s license and insurance cards.
They still had a problem with what to call me. We must have talked for 15 minutes on that subject alone. It reminded me of that comedy routine, “You can call me Ray, or you can call me Jay…” Did I want my first name to be “H.” or “H. Benjamin” with no middle initial? I finally explained that I had had the same problem with my insurance company and they finally resolved it by calling me H. B. Since that was whom my insurance company felt they were insuring, and subsequently paying the bills for, the hospital could just use the same name. The insurance company would be less confused by H. B. than by anything else. I think the hospital bought it. My bracelet right now says H B.
I’m just barely in the door, feeling really whipped —I’m up to an FF of 7-8 by now—and having to go through all this!
I got dressed for the hospital, my new-from-Christmas pj bottoms and their gown, climbed into bed, and had the bed explained to me. It had all sorts of bells and whistles.
Did I mention that it was a private room? They felt that private rooms were more conducive to recovery for patients. LOL!
While explaining the bed and all the switches on the bed, they mentioned that the electricians had screwed up. The wiring for the reading lights on the wall behind the bed had been run to the overhead florescent light. So the room light switch and the reading light switch both ran to the overhead light. A light so bright I never used it because I hadn’t brought sun block! I’m sure it works well enough for lighting the room during a Code Blue, but not something you want to turn on in the middle of the night just to go to the bathroom.
As a Quality Manager, I kept a quote by the founder of IBM, Tom Watson, close at hand. “If you want to achieve excellence...as of this second, quit doing less-than-excellent stuff.” I knew at that moment why I’ve been having so many problems. Aurora expects less-than-the-best from their people. When mistakes are made, little effort is taken to change them.
My oncologist, Dr. P had told me that he was head of the Quality Committee when I brought up some issues. His point was that they were more interested in “important” things.
Frédéric Bastiat—another person who didn’t use their first name—was a classic liberal (libertarian) theorist, economist, and member of the French Assembly. He proposed a theory called “The Parable of the Broken Window.” I can explain it like this; have you ever noticed an abandoned building with only one broken window? Probably not. As soon as one window is broken and not fixed, people feel free to break the rest of the windows. Fix the first broken window as soon as it’s broken and you keep the rest of the windows intact. Simple!
Another way to put it is exemplified by that old canard, “Take care of the pennies and the dollars will take care of themselves.” In other words, pay attention to the details and there won’t be any big “important” issues to worry about. Apparently Aurora hadn’t heard about it.
Dr. C showed up asking why I was in the hospital! He wanted to know all about my symptoms. My PCP had asked when was the last time I had seen an oncologist and I had told him it was Monday, two days ago. He asked if I had mentioned the cough and I said "Yes, indeedy!"
So, the hospital did a CT Pulmonary Angiogram (CTPA) on me and found that I had ANOTHER blood clot, a pulmonary embolism (PE), in an artery to my lungs! The VLCC had missed a clot. But, they already had me on the proper course of treatment for blood clots, but the cough still had my PCP concerned.
The only symptoms I exhibited for the first blood clot found were the swellings in the area of my port. The only classic symptoms I exhibited for a PE was rapid breathing and a cough. Obviously, those can come from a variety of sources. I've had the rapid shallow breathing during almost every chemotherapy treatment. It was what was causing that cough that still had them concerned.
That was pretty much my first day, unless I remember something later. My first night, though, was something to remember.
They take down a list of meds and OTC supplements that you use when you fist get to the hospital. I usually keep a list in my HP iPAQ, which has amused quite a few nurses and gets me remembered the next time I go in. They wish everyone was as organized as I!
So, they knew I took a sleeping pill before bed. I’ve blogged about it here as well.
WELL! They made NO provisions for me to get sleeping meds of any kind. If I need sleeping pills, due to my chemotherapy-induced insomnia, in the serenity and familiarity of my own home, how much more might I need them in a strange and unfamiliar NOISY hospital?
Attention to detail? I think not.
I’m going to leave you here tonight and get ready for bed. I’ll pick up this tale tomorrow.
Do I still have to remind you "As a juror, I will exercise my 1000-year-old duty to arrive at a verdict, not just on the basis of the facts of a particular case, or instructions I am given, but through my power to reason, my knowledge of the Bill of Rights, and my individual conscience. When needful, I will judge the law itself." -L. Neil Smith
Thus starts the tale of my recent hospital experience.
Now, it’s hard to keep a timeline straight so don’t hold me to anything. I told you about Amy, my daughter, being home for Christmas, the finding of the swollen bumps near my implanted port, and the subsequent return of Amy and her “monsters” (the dogs) to her home in Tampa. So let’s start again on Wednesday, January 2.
BTW, here’s a photo essay of a port being accessed. The guy looks a lot like me only he has hair! Go with me to a chemotherapy session and that's what you will see them do to me.
I called the VLCC on Wednesday to explain the symptoms I had found, namely the soft “bumps.” Other than the lousy cough, which I attributed to a cold, I experienced no other symptoms. They invited me over for a look and I accepted.
While there, Nurse Practitioner Nancy ordered a sonogram, which revealed a blood clot in an artery leading to my right arm. They started me on Warfarin /Coumadin and Lovenox to thin my blood.
I returned the following Monday for a follow up and blood tests to determine my INR number, which would tell them how well my blood is coagulating, or not. My doctor-of-the-day, Dr. C., asked me why I was wearing a mask. I informed him that I had what I thought was a cold and that I was stingy and didn’t want to give it to anyone else, especially cancer patients with intentionally compromised immune systems. At the same time, I didn’t want to pick up anything else! He made me take the mask off.
I left the clinic that day continuing the Warfarin but not knowing what I would be doing about the Lovenox. Nothing was said about my cough. And I still felt like crap.
A Fatigue Factor (FF) of 10 would mean that I couldn’t get out of bed. An FF of 9 would mean that I could get out of bed long enough to get to the bathroom, the recliner, or the kitchen, but couldn’t stand for very long. I call it “Riding the Recliner” time.
I was somewhere around an FF of 6 or 7. I could get up and around a bit, do the dishes if there weren’t too many, but had to sit down soon. I could go to the store if I used a cart to lean on and didn’t get too many items. A quick in and out!
Tuesday, still feeling fatigued and with the cough, I decided on a reality check. I called my insurance company’s 24-hour healthcare hot line that featured real nurses. It took quite a while to bring Nurse Sheila up to speed with my conditions and how I got there. I informed her about my upcoming appointment with my Personal Care Physician (PCP) in the morning concerning my blood pressure.
She gave me some tips to ease my suffering, but made me promise “cross-my-heart-and-hope-to-live” that I would keep that doctor’s appointment.
I sometimes feel like a victim of Procrustes, who was a Greek robber with a famous bed. If you were too long for the bed, he amputated something so that you fit. If you were too short, you were put on the rack and stretched until you fit. For him, everyone had to be the same height, or else!
One of my favorite Jefferson quotes goes like this, “There is nothing more unequal, than the equal treatment of unequal people.” It would seem to fit with the Procrustes bed situation, and later, you will see, will be appropriate for my situation. And, if you get me drunk enough sometime and ask me, I might tell you how and why that quote appeals to me so much.
I went in early, before 8:00, to the VLCC to have blood drawn to test my blood clotting rate to see if the Warfarin was working. Even though I told them that I had an appointment with my PCP at 8:30 and had to leave by 8:15. they didn't get to me until 8:20!
While waiting, I found out that I had a 9:00 appointment there with the doctor-of-the-day, Dr. C. I told them that they had to tell me about such appointments and that they hadn't told me because if they had, I would have told them that I would be in my own PCP's treatment room at that time.
I walked out of the building at 8:25 at ABCMC. Six minutes later I was one quarteer of the way around Green Bay, slowing down to exit at GV only to find that the exit ramp was glazed over with ice, had been recently salted because two cars were in the ditch with two police vehicles warning other exiting drivers! It took me another 9 minutes to get the rest of the way to my doctor's office. Did I mention that I wasn't feeling well at all???
BTW, I finally got to meet the "Diane" who had cancer and was undergoing treatment as well whom I thought was so young because she kept calling me "Sir." She's not as young as I thought. Her teenage son had just returned from a trip to France with the exchange student they had had living with them! I told her if she ever wanted to talk and compare notes
that she should give me a call.
My PCP took x-rays and found nothing. His exam found nothing; my blood O2 was 100 (they look for 90-100) even though my breathing was rapid and shallow. Except for the fact that I had a nasty cough, and I felt really fatigued, NOTHING! He wanted to put me in the hospital but he had nothing to hang his hat on.
He admitted me anyway.
I drove home, got my son up early, and had him take me to the hospital before he had to head off to work. My fun started while checking in, right in the room.
I’ve told you here about my name issues. I use my first initial and middle name. It’s on my driver’s license, my social security card, and most of my documents. Has been for decades. But it drives Procrustes wanna-bes NUTS! They want a first name and middle initial. And will do anything to get it.
So, when they gave me an armband that said, “Benjamin B” and asked if that was me, I flipped out. I said, “No, that’s my father.” Actually, my father died in 1961, but that was his name, not mine.
So started what seemed like a half hour discussion/argument that didn’t end when I showed my driver’s license and insurance card. I tried to explain that I had been trying for months to get my records and my name changed in their computers to little avail, as evidenced by the conversation I was having. We finally compromised; I put the armband on until they could get another one, while they made copies of my driver’s license and insurance cards.
They still had a problem with what to call me. We must have talked for 15 minutes on that subject alone. It reminded me of that comedy routine, “You can call me Ray, or you can call me Jay…” Did I want my first name to be “H.” or “H. Benjamin” with no middle initial? I finally explained that I had had the same problem with my insurance company and they finally resolved it by calling me H. B. Since that was whom my insurance company felt they were insuring, and subsequently paying the bills for, the hospital could just use the same name. The insurance company would be less confused by H. B. than by anything else. I think the hospital bought it. My bracelet right now says H B.
I’m just barely in the door, feeling really whipped —I’m up to an FF of 7-8 by now—and having to go through all this!
I got dressed for the hospital, my new-from-Christmas pj bottoms and their gown, climbed into bed, and had the bed explained to me. It had all sorts of bells and whistles.
Did I mention that it was a private room? They felt that private rooms were more conducive to recovery for patients. LOL!
While explaining the bed and all the switches on the bed, they mentioned that the electricians had screwed up. The wiring for the reading lights on the wall behind the bed had been run to the overhead florescent light. So the room light switch and the reading light switch both ran to the overhead light. A light so bright I never used it because I hadn’t brought sun block! I’m sure it works well enough for lighting the room during a Code Blue, but not something you want to turn on in the middle of the night just to go to the bathroom.
As a Quality Manager, I kept a quote by the founder of IBM, Tom Watson, close at hand. “If you want to achieve excellence...as of this second, quit doing less-than-excellent stuff.” I knew at that moment why I’ve been having so many problems. Aurora expects less-than-the-best from their people. When mistakes are made, little effort is taken to change them.
My oncologist, Dr. P had told me that he was head of the Quality Committee when I brought up some issues. His point was that they were more interested in “important” things.
Frédéric Bastiat—another person who didn’t use their first name—was a classic liberal (libertarian) theorist, economist, and member of the French Assembly. He proposed a theory called “The Parable of the Broken Window.” I can explain it like this; have you ever noticed an abandoned building with only one broken window? Probably not. As soon as one window is broken and not fixed, people feel free to break the rest of the windows. Fix the first broken window as soon as it’s broken and you keep the rest of the windows intact. Simple!
Another way to put it is exemplified by that old canard, “Take care of the pennies and the dollars will take care of themselves.” In other words, pay attention to the details and there won’t be any big “important” issues to worry about. Apparently Aurora hadn’t heard about it.
Dr. C showed up asking why I was in the hospital! He wanted to know all about my symptoms. My PCP had asked when was the last time I had seen an oncologist and I had told him it was Monday, two days ago. He asked if I had mentioned the cough and I said "Yes, indeedy!"
So, the hospital did a CT Pulmonary Angiogram (CTPA) on me and found that I had ANOTHER blood clot, a pulmonary embolism (PE), in an artery to my lungs! The VLCC had missed a clot. But, they already had me on the proper course of treatment for blood clots, but the cough still had my PCP concerned.
The only symptoms I exhibited for the first blood clot found were the swellings in the area of my port. The only classic symptoms I exhibited for a PE was rapid breathing and a cough. Obviously, those can come from a variety of sources. I've had the rapid shallow breathing during almost every chemotherapy treatment. It was what was causing that cough that still had them concerned.
That was pretty much my first day, unless I remember something later. My first night, though, was something to remember.
They take down a list of meds and OTC supplements that you use when you fist get to the hospital. I usually keep a list in my HP iPAQ, which has amused quite a few nurses and gets me remembered the next time I go in. They wish everyone was as organized as I!
So, they knew I took a sleeping pill before bed. I’ve blogged about it here as well.
WELL! They made NO provisions for me to get sleeping meds of any kind. If I need sleeping pills, due to my chemotherapy-induced insomnia, in the serenity and familiarity of my own home, how much more might I need them in a strange and unfamiliar NOISY hospital?
Attention to detail? I think not.
I’m going to leave you here tonight and get ready for bed. I’ll pick up this tale tomorrow.
Do I still have to remind you "As a juror, I will exercise my 1000-year-old duty to arrive at a verdict, not just on the basis of the facts of a particular case, or instructions I am given, but through my power to reason, my knowledge of the Bill of Rights, and my individual conscience. When needful, I will judge the law itself." -L. Neil Smith
Home Again, Home Again...
...jiggety jig!
I'm glad to be home although I'll miss some of the nurses. Most of the nurses! There were some very personable nurses taking care of me, so there was some humor and fun going on. I hope that it wasn't ALL professionalism, but oh well.
I'm not feeling very well even after being in the hospital. I feel more tired today than when I had been up for 39 hours. I couldn't sleep the first night at all.
So I'm going to cut this short for now and try to take a nap. I'll come back later to fill in the details.
My thanks to Amy for jumping in to the breach to keep everyone informed. My thanks to Ben for doing the same and for getting me to and from the hospital while trying to maintain his second shift work schedule. Thanks guys!
A quick note, while talking with Pastoral Care, she observed from my screen saver photo montage and from my conversation about them that "You really love your kids." It kinda slowed the conversation down until I could get my voice back, but I wholeheartedly agreed.
I'm gonna take a nap now!
I'm glad to be home although I'll miss some of the nurses. Most of the nurses! There were some very personable nurses taking care of me, so there was some humor and fun going on. I hope that it wasn't ALL professionalism, but oh well.
I'm not feeling very well even after being in the hospital. I feel more tired today than when I had been up for 39 hours. I couldn't sleep the first night at all.
So I'm going to cut this short for now and try to take a nap. I'll come back later to fill in the details.
My thanks to Amy for jumping in to the breach to keep everyone informed. My thanks to Ben for doing the same and for getting me to and from the hospital while trying to maintain his second shift work schedule. Thanks guys!
A quick note, while talking with Pastoral Care, she observed from my screen saver photo montage and from my conversation about them that "You really love your kids." It kinda slowed the conversation down until I could get my voice back, but I wholeheartedly agreed.
I'm gonna take a nap now!
Thursday, January 10, 2008
Dad's hospital stay, day 2.
I stopped by the hospital earlier today. Despite the fact that Dad had been up for nearly thirty hours, he seemed to be in a better mood than he's been in the past several days. His treatment during the stay, it seems, will consist solely of blood thinners and anti-biotics.
I'm not really clear on why he's getting the clots in the first place, but he said that the doctors told him the tumor might be causing them to form somehow. Because of that, he may need to be on blood thinners permanently.
-Ben
I'm not really clear on why he's getting the clots in the first place, but he said that the doctors told him the tumor might be causing them to form somehow. Because of that, he may need to be on blood thinners permanently.
-Ben
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
Don't Freak Out, but Dad's in the Hospital
Hi all,
I'm writing this to update everyone... Dad was not feeling well at all today, so instead of beginning radiation, they admitted him into the hospital. After running a barrage of tests, they have discovered he has multiple Pulmonary Embolisms (Emboli?) [PE]. These are blood clots in the arteries of the lungs. You can Google the term to find out more. While embolisms are bad, they are obviously the worst without treatment, and he is getting treatment. He said he does not think he is in any danger and should be O.K. He also stated that the mortality rate for UN-treated PE is 26%.
He doesn't know how long they are gonna keep him, but he says it sounds like several days. He's at Aurora Baycare Medical Center, 920-288-8000, room #152. There is wireless internet there, but he said he won't be blogging for a while, so I wanted to update everyone.
I'll keep you posted as best I can,
Amy
I'm writing this to update everyone... Dad was not feeling well at all today, so instead of beginning radiation, they admitted him into the hospital. After running a barrage of tests, they have discovered he has multiple Pulmonary Embolisms (Emboli?) [PE]. These are blood clots in the arteries of the lungs. You can Google the term to find out more. While embolisms are bad, they are obviously the worst without treatment, and he is getting treatment. He said he does not think he is in any danger and should be O.K. He also stated that the mortality rate for UN-treated PE is 26%.
He doesn't know how long they are gonna keep him, but he says it sounds like several days. He's at Aurora Baycare Medical Center, 920-288-8000, room #152. There is wireless internet there, but he said he won't be blogging for a while, so I wanted to update everyone.
I'll keep you posted as best I can,
Amy
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
I’d Like To Teach The World To Sing...
...in perfect harmony, but I’m too sick to do so.
After having visited the VLCC last Wednesday with a blood clot and Monday for follow up blood tests, you would think that all those doctors, nurses, and nurse practitioners would have noticed that I was sick with a nasty cold. Let’s see, chemically-compromised immune system, one in ten chance of surviving the next five years, you would think that someone would pay attention to the customer, I mean patient.
I hardly got any sleep last night I was coughing so badly. My stomach muscles and the muscles behind my eyeballs hurt this AM from coughing so hard.
So I called a nurse hotline sponsored by my insurance company and talked to Nurse Sheila. Overall, it went well. Found out that she was pretty sympathetic, even after explaining my medical affiliations. You know, Complimentary & Alternative Medicine.
She gave me some non-medical things to do to help my condition, including postponing my Radiation Therapy tomorrow, and Chemotherapy on Friday until my fatigue lessens considerably.
Called the Clinic and the best I could do is get them to think about it. If I go through with therapy, you have my permission to shoot me, or commit me. I have to be at the clinic by 8:00 for lab tests and my GP by 8:30, then back to the Clinic before 1:00 Radiation Therapy.
Amy, your “experienced” oncologist, Dr. C, had to ask me why I was wearing a facemask, yesterday. Then he wanted to know how my blood clot was. WTF? Since they saw it on ultrasound with nothing more than the swelling to alert me that something was going on, HTF should I know?
From my use of those initials, you have to surmise that I’m pretty pissed and discussed changing doctors with my insurance company nurse. I mean five oncologists/ NPs in five courses of chemotherapy?
Later in the day, my temp went to 101.3, so I called the clinic back. I finally got them talked into using up the other three Levaquin. I took one today and fired up the humidifier. I think my congestion is breaking up somewhat. Temp’s up to 101.4 but I’m chilled in a humidified room that’s 70 degrees.
And I haven’t even eaten anything today. No wonder the nurse suggested I call my insurance company to see what kind of outside help I can get.
I talked Dr. C into allowing me to use my Omega 3 Fish Oil. By the time I get done, I’ll be back on all my CAM supplements. :-)
I’m going to end this here. I need to take something in my stomach and a hot bath. And, if you get a call from me, I may need help getting out of the tub. And I may need Ben to drive me in in the morning. I hate to wait until the last minute to find out.
After having visited the VLCC last Wednesday with a blood clot and Monday for follow up blood tests, you would think that all those doctors, nurses, and nurse practitioners would have noticed that I was sick with a nasty cold. Let’s see, chemically-compromised immune system, one in ten chance of surviving the next five years, you would think that someone would pay attention to the customer, I mean patient.
I hardly got any sleep last night I was coughing so badly. My stomach muscles and the muscles behind my eyeballs hurt this AM from coughing so hard.
So I called a nurse hotline sponsored by my insurance company and talked to Nurse Sheila. Overall, it went well. Found out that she was pretty sympathetic, even after explaining my medical affiliations. You know, Complimentary & Alternative Medicine.
She gave me some non-medical things to do to help my condition, including postponing my Radiation Therapy tomorrow, and Chemotherapy on Friday until my fatigue lessens considerably.
Called the Clinic and the best I could do is get them to think about it. If I go through with therapy, you have my permission to shoot me, or commit me. I have to be at the clinic by 8:00 for lab tests and my GP by 8:30, then back to the Clinic before 1:00 Radiation Therapy.
Amy, your “experienced” oncologist, Dr. C, had to ask me why I was wearing a facemask, yesterday. Then he wanted to know how my blood clot was. WTF? Since they saw it on ultrasound with nothing more than the swelling to alert me that something was going on, HTF should I know?
From my use of those initials, you have to surmise that I’m pretty pissed and discussed changing doctors with my insurance company nurse. I mean five oncologists/ NPs in five courses of chemotherapy?
Later in the day, my temp went to 101.3, so I called the clinic back. I finally got them talked into using up the other three Levaquin. I took one today and fired up the humidifier. I think my congestion is breaking up somewhat. Temp’s up to 101.4 but I’m chilled in a humidified room that’s 70 degrees.
And I haven’t even eaten anything today. No wonder the nurse suggested I call my insurance company to see what kind of outside help I can get.
I talked Dr. C into allowing me to use my Omega 3 Fish Oil. By the time I get done, I’ll be back on all my CAM supplements. :-)
I’m going to end this here. I need to take something in my stomach and a hot bath. And, if you get a call from me, I may need help getting out of the tub. And I may need Ben to drive me in in the morning. I hate to wait until the last minute to find out.
How Government Solved the Health Care Crisis
You won't see me do this very often, post someone else's work. Normally I'd post some quotes and a link, but this was kinda hard to find in my condition. So I posted it here.
How Government Solved the Health Care Crisis
Medical Insurance that Worked — Until Government "Fixed" It
by Roderick T. Long
Today, we are constantly being told, the United States faces a health care crisis. Medical costs are too high, and health insurance is out of reach of the poor. The cause of this crisis is never made very clear, but the cure is obvious to nearly everybody: government must step in to solve the problem.
Eighty years ago, Americans were also told that their nation was facing a health care crisis. Then, however, the complaint was that medical costs were too low, and that health insurance was too accessible. But in that era, too, government stepped forward to solve the problem. And boy, did it solve it!
In the late 19th and early 20th centuries, one of the primary sources of health care and health insurance for the working poor in Britain, Australia, and the United States was the fraternal society. Fraternal societies (called "friendly societies" in Britain and Australia) were voluntary mutual-aid associations. Their descendants survive among us today in the form of the Shriners, Elks, Masons, and similar organizations, but these no longer play the central role in American life they formerly did. As recently as 1920, over one-quarter of all adult Americans were members of fraternal societies. (The figure was still higher in Britain and Australia.) Fraternal societies were particularly popular among blacks and immigrants. (Indeed, Teddy Roosevelt's famous attack on "hyphenated Americans" was motivated in part by hostility to the immigrants' fraternal societies; he and other Progressives sought to "Americanize" immigrants by making them dependent for support on the democratic state, rather than on their own independent ethnic communities.)
The principle behind the fraternal societies was simple. A group of working-class people would form an association (or join a local branch, or "lodge," of an existing association) and pay monthly fees into the association's treasury; individual members would then be able to draw on the pooled resources in time of need. The fraternal societies thus operated as a form of self-help insurance company.
Turn-of-the-century America offered a dizzying array of fraternal societies to choose from. Some catered to a particular ethnic or religious group; others did not. Many offered entertainment and social life to their members, or engaged in community service. Some "fraternal" societies were run entirely by and for women. The kinds of services from which members could choose often varied as well, though the most commonly offered were life insurance, disability insurance, and "lodge practice."
"Lodge practice" refers to an arrangement, reminiscent of today's HMOs, whereby a particular society or lodge would contract with a doctor to provide medical care to its members. The doctor received a regular salary on a retainer basis, rather than charging per item; members would pay a yearly fee and then call on the doctor's services as needed. If medical services were found unsatisfactory, the doctor would be penalized, and the contract might not be renewed. Lodge members reportedly enjoyed the degree of customer control this system afforded them. And the tendency to overuse the physician's services was kept in check by the fraternal society's own "self-policing"; lodge members who wanted to avoid future increases in premiums were motivated to make sure that their fellow members were not abusing the system.
Most remarkable was the low cost at which these medical services were provided. At the turn of the century, the average cost of "lodge practice" to an individual member was between one and two dollars a year. A day's wage would pay for a year's worth of medical care. By contrast, the average cost of medical service on the regular market was between one and two dollars per visit. Yet licensed physicians, particularly those who did not come from "big name" medical schools, competed vigorously for lodge contracts, perhaps because of the security they offered; and this competition continued to keep costs low.
The response of the medical establishment, both in America and in Britain, was one of outrage; the institution of lodge practice was denounced in harsh language and apocalyptic tones. Such low fees, many doctors charged, were bankrupting the medical profession. Moreover, many saw it as a blow to the dignity of the profession that trained physicians should be eagerly bidding for the chance to serve as the hirelings of lower-class tradesmen. It was particularly detestable that such uneducated and socially inferior people should be permitted to set fees for the physicians' services, or to sit in judgment on professionals to determine whether their services had been satisfactory. The government, they demanded, must do something.
And so it did. In Britain, the state put an end to the "evil" of lodge practice by bringing health care under political control. Physicians' fees would now be determined by panels of trained professionals (i.e., the physicians themselves) rather than by ignorant patients. State-financed medical care edged out lodge practice; those who were being forced to pay taxes for "free" health care whether they wanted it or not had little incentive to pay extra for health care through the fraternal societies, rather than using the government care they had already paid for.
In America, it took longer for the nation's health care system to be socialized, so the medical establishment had to achieve its ends more indirectly; but the essential result was the same. Medical societies like the AMA imposed sanctions on doctors who dared to sign lodge practice contracts. This might have been less effective if such medical societies had not had access to government power; but in fact, thanks to governmental grants of privilege, they controlled the medical licensure procedure, thus ensuring that those in their disfavor would be denied the right to practice medicine.
Such licensure laws also offered the medical establishment a less overt way of combating lodge practice. It was during this period that the AMA made the requirements for medical licensure far more strict than they had previously been. Their reason, they claimed, was to raise the quality of medical care. But the result was that the number of physicians fell, competition dwindled, and medical fees rose; the vast pool of physicians bidding for lodge practice contracts had been abolished. As with any market good, artifical restrictions on supply created higher prices — a particular hardship for the working-class members of fraternal societies.
The final death blow to lodge practice was struck by the fraternal societies themselves. The National Fraternal Congress — attempting, like the AMA, to reap the benefits of cartelization — lobbied for laws decreeing a legal minimum on the rates fraternal societies could charge.
Unfortunately for the lobbyists, the lobbying effort was successful; the unintended consequence was that the minimum rates laws made the services of fraternal societies no longer competitive. Thus the National Fraternal Congress' lobbying efforts, rather than creating a formidable mutual-aid cartel, simply destroyed the fraternal societies' market niche — and with it the opportunity for low-cost health care for the working poor.
Why do we have a crisis in health care costs today? Because government "solved" the last one.
Bibliogaphy
David T. Beito. "The 'Lodge Practice Evil' Reconsidered: Medical Care Through Fraternal Societies, 1900-1930." (unpublished)
David T. Beito. "Mutual Aid for Social Welfare: The Case of American Fraternal Societies." Critical Review, Vol. 4, no. 4 (Fall 1990).
David Green. Reinventing Civil Society: The Rediscovery of Welfare Without Politics. Institute of Economic Affairs, London, 1993.
David Green. Working Class Patients and the Medical Establishment: Self-Help in Britain from the Mid-Nineteenth Century to 1948. St. Martin's Press, New York, 1985.
David Green & Lawrence Cromwell. Mutual Aid or Welfare State: Australia's Friendly Societies. Allen & Unwin, Sydney, 1984.
P. Gosden. The Friendly Societies in England, 1815-1875. Manchester University Press, Manchester, 1961.
P. Gosden. Self-Help: Voluntary Associations in the 19th Century. Batsford Press, London, 1973.
Albert Loan. "Institutional Bases of the Spontaneous Order: Surety and Assurance." Humane Studies Review, Vol. 7, no. 1, 1991/92.
Leslie Siddeley. "The Rise and Fall of Fraternal Insurance Organizations." Humane Studies Review, Vol. 7, no. 2, 1992.
S. David Young. The Rule of Experts: Occupational Licensing in America. Cato Institute, Washington, 1987.
This article was published in the Winter 1993-94 issue of Formulations formerly a publication of the Free Nation Foundation, now published by the Libertarian Nation Foundation
And you wonder why Bob LeFevre said, "Government is a disease masquerading as its own cure."
How Government Solved the Health Care Crisis
Medical Insurance that Worked — Until Government "Fixed" It
by Roderick T. Long
Today, we are constantly being told, the United States faces a health care crisis. Medical costs are too high, and health insurance is out of reach of the poor. The cause of this crisis is never made very clear, but the cure is obvious to nearly everybody: government must step in to solve the problem.
Eighty years ago, Americans were also told that their nation was facing a health care crisis. Then, however, the complaint was that medical costs were too low, and that health insurance was too accessible. But in that era, too, government stepped forward to solve the problem. And boy, did it solve it!
In the late 19th and early 20th centuries, one of the primary sources of health care and health insurance for the working poor in Britain, Australia, and the United States was the fraternal society. Fraternal societies (called "friendly societies" in Britain and Australia) were voluntary mutual-aid associations. Their descendants survive among us today in the form of the Shriners, Elks, Masons, and similar organizations, but these no longer play the central role in American life they formerly did. As recently as 1920, over one-quarter of all adult Americans were members of fraternal societies. (The figure was still higher in Britain and Australia.) Fraternal societies were particularly popular among blacks and immigrants. (Indeed, Teddy Roosevelt's famous attack on "hyphenated Americans" was motivated in part by hostility to the immigrants' fraternal societies; he and other Progressives sought to "Americanize" immigrants by making them dependent for support on the democratic state, rather than on their own independent ethnic communities.)
The principle behind the fraternal societies was simple. A group of working-class people would form an association (or join a local branch, or "lodge," of an existing association) and pay monthly fees into the association's treasury; individual members would then be able to draw on the pooled resources in time of need. The fraternal societies thus operated as a form of self-help insurance company.
Turn-of-the-century America offered a dizzying array of fraternal societies to choose from. Some catered to a particular ethnic or religious group; others did not. Many offered entertainment and social life to their members, or engaged in community service. Some "fraternal" societies were run entirely by and for women. The kinds of services from which members could choose often varied as well, though the most commonly offered were life insurance, disability insurance, and "lodge practice."
"Lodge practice" refers to an arrangement, reminiscent of today's HMOs, whereby a particular society or lodge would contract with a doctor to provide medical care to its members. The doctor received a regular salary on a retainer basis, rather than charging per item; members would pay a yearly fee and then call on the doctor's services as needed. If medical services were found unsatisfactory, the doctor would be penalized, and the contract might not be renewed. Lodge members reportedly enjoyed the degree of customer control this system afforded them. And the tendency to overuse the physician's services was kept in check by the fraternal society's own "self-policing"; lodge members who wanted to avoid future increases in premiums were motivated to make sure that their fellow members were not abusing the system.
Most remarkable was the low cost at which these medical services were provided. At the turn of the century, the average cost of "lodge practice" to an individual member was between one and two dollars a year. A day's wage would pay for a year's worth of medical care. By contrast, the average cost of medical service on the regular market was between one and two dollars per visit. Yet licensed physicians, particularly those who did not come from "big name" medical schools, competed vigorously for lodge contracts, perhaps because of the security they offered; and this competition continued to keep costs low.
The response of the medical establishment, both in America and in Britain, was one of outrage; the institution of lodge practice was denounced in harsh language and apocalyptic tones. Such low fees, many doctors charged, were bankrupting the medical profession. Moreover, many saw it as a blow to the dignity of the profession that trained physicians should be eagerly bidding for the chance to serve as the hirelings of lower-class tradesmen. It was particularly detestable that such uneducated and socially inferior people should be permitted to set fees for the physicians' services, or to sit in judgment on professionals to determine whether their services had been satisfactory. The government, they demanded, must do something.
And so it did. In Britain, the state put an end to the "evil" of lodge practice by bringing health care under political control. Physicians' fees would now be determined by panels of trained professionals (i.e., the physicians themselves) rather than by ignorant patients. State-financed medical care edged out lodge practice; those who were being forced to pay taxes for "free" health care whether they wanted it or not had little incentive to pay extra for health care through the fraternal societies, rather than using the government care they had already paid for.
In America, it took longer for the nation's health care system to be socialized, so the medical establishment had to achieve its ends more indirectly; but the essential result was the same. Medical societies like the AMA imposed sanctions on doctors who dared to sign lodge practice contracts. This might have been less effective if such medical societies had not had access to government power; but in fact, thanks to governmental grants of privilege, they controlled the medical licensure procedure, thus ensuring that those in their disfavor would be denied the right to practice medicine.
Such licensure laws also offered the medical establishment a less overt way of combating lodge practice. It was during this period that the AMA made the requirements for medical licensure far more strict than they had previously been. Their reason, they claimed, was to raise the quality of medical care. But the result was that the number of physicians fell, competition dwindled, and medical fees rose; the vast pool of physicians bidding for lodge practice contracts had been abolished. As with any market good, artifical restrictions on supply created higher prices — a particular hardship for the working-class members of fraternal societies.
The final death blow to lodge practice was struck by the fraternal societies themselves. The National Fraternal Congress — attempting, like the AMA, to reap the benefits of cartelization — lobbied for laws decreeing a legal minimum on the rates fraternal societies could charge.
Unfortunately for the lobbyists, the lobbying effort was successful; the unintended consequence was that the minimum rates laws made the services of fraternal societies no longer competitive. Thus the National Fraternal Congress' lobbying efforts, rather than creating a formidable mutual-aid cartel, simply destroyed the fraternal societies' market niche — and with it the opportunity for low-cost health care for the working poor.
Why do we have a crisis in health care costs today? Because government "solved" the last one.
Bibliogaphy
David T. Beito. "The 'Lodge Practice Evil' Reconsidered: Medical Care Through Fraternal Societies, 1900-1930." (unpublished)
David T. Beito. "Mutual Aid for Social Welfare: The Case of American Fraternal Societies." Critical Review, Vol. 4, no. 4 (Fall 1990).
David Green. Reinventing Civil Society: The Rediscovery of Welfare Without Politics. Institute of Economic Affairs, London, 1993.
David Green. Working Class Patients and the Medical Establishment: Self-Help in Britain from the Mid-Nineteenth Century to 1948. St. Martin's Press, New York, 1985.
David Green & Lawrence Cromwell. Mutual Aid or Welfare State: Australia's Friendly Societies. Allen & Unwin, Sydney, 1984.
P. Gosden. The Friendly Societies in England, 1815-1875. Manchester University Press, Manchester, 1961.
P. Gosden. Self-Help: Voluntary Associations in the 19th Century. Batsford Press, London, 1973.
Albert Loan. "Institutional Bases of the Spontaneous Order: Surety and Assurance." Humane Studies Review, Vol. 7, no. 1, 1991/92.
Leslie Siddeley. "The Rise and Fall of Fraternal Insurance Organizations." Humane Studies Review, Vol. 7, no. 2, 1992.
S. David Young. The Rule of Experts: Occupational Licensing in America. Cato Institute, Washington, 1987.
This article was published in the Winter 1993-94 issue of Formulations formerly a publication of the Free Nation Foundation, now published by the Libertarian Nation Foundation
And you wonder why Bob LeFevre said, "Government is a disease masquerading as its own cure."
Sunday, January 6, 2008
I Know, I Know...
I should post something, but I feel like crap. Don't wanna play with anyone right now. I've been coughing a lot and running a fever, at least for me. At one point I was up to 100.5 but usually I'm around 99. I realize that for you folks that may be normal, but for me, I usually run about two degrees lower than you folks. And they say it's not my thyroid!
Ben raised a concern over my digital thermometer, so I dug out my old-fashioned mercury-filled glass thermometer. They were within 2-3 tenths of a degree. Ain't the thermometer!
I'll be going in tomorrow to consult about my clot. Maybe I can stop giving myself injections with bent needle tips; hurt going in, hurt worse coming out! There was only one like that, but how many do you need to make you needle shy?
It seems that Oscar and I are "Brothers of the Lovenox." That's what he was getting in the hospital only his wife, Deanna, gave him his shots after he got home. He said that Dee gave a better shot than the nurses!!
I've found out about a bunch of stuff that absolutely frosts my cookies, like I might have to be on a proton-pump-inhibitor permanently because they have kept me on a double dose of Protonix for way too long! And here I was worried about liver damage.
Radiation starts Wednesday and another round of Chemo starts Friday. Don't know yet what poisons they'll put in me then. Hopefully, I'll get what little hair I have back.
Saw a friend from The Sweatshop in the store yesterday; he didn't recognize me! But we did get a chance to talk a little which was nice.
OK, that's it for now, I'm gonna vegg out and watch a movie so I won't fall asleep too early. I've found that I can do almost everything from my bed except cook my meals. I brought the computer in and can surf the net or watch HD movies on my laptop. I could bring up my cooler/refrigerator from my OTR days and keep food right here. With all the camp stoves I must have, surely I could cook here in my bedroom, right?
Maybe later. Right now you have to remember that "As a juror, I will exercise my 1000-year-old duty to arrive at a verdict, not just on the basis of the facts of a particular case, or instructions I am given, but through my power to reason, my knowledge of the Bill of Rights, and my individual conscience. When needful, I will judge the law itself." -L. Neil Smith
Anybody actually go out and check out the link, or am I just blowing smoke up your skirt? Enquiring minds want to know. :-D
Ben raised a concern over my digital thermometer, so I dug out my old-fashioned mercury-filled glass thermometer. They were within 2-3 tenths of a degree. Ain't the thermometer!
I'll be going in tomorrow to consult about my clot. Maybe I can stop giving myself injections with bent needle tips; hurt going in, hurt worse coming out! There was only one like that, but how many do you need to make you needle shy?
It seems that Oscar and I are "Brothers of the Lovenox." That's what he was getting in the hospital only his wife, Deanna, gave him his shots after he got home. He said that Dee gave a better shot than the nurses!!
I've found out about a bunch of stuff that absolutely frosts my cookies, like I might have to be on a proton-pump-inhibitor permanently because they have kept me on a double dose of Protonix for way too long! And here I was worried about liver damage.
Radiation starts Wednesday and another round of Chemo starts Friday. Don't know yet what poisons they'll put in me then. Hopefully, I'll get what little hair I have back.
Saw a friend from The Sweatshop in the store yesterday; he didn't recognize me! But we did get a chance to talk a little which was nice.
OK, that's it for now, I'm gonna vegg out and watch a movie so I won't fall asleep too early. I've found that I can do almost everything from my bed except cook my meals. I brought the computer in and can surf the net or watch HD movies on my laptop. I could bring up my cooler/refrigerator from my OTR days and keep food right here. With all the camp stoves I must have, surely I could cook here in my bedroom, right?
Maybe later. Right now you have to remember that "As a juror, I will exercise my 1000-year-old duty to arrive at a verdict, not just on the basis of the facts of a particular case, or instructions I am given, but through my power to reason, my knowledge of the Bill of Rights, and my individual conscience. When needful, I will judge the law itself." -L. Neil Smith
Anybody actually go out and check out the link, or am I just blowing smoke up your skirt? Enquiring minds want to know. :-D
Thursday, January 3, 2008
My New Year
I just gave myself my first shot of Lovenox on my own. They had wanted me to come in to observe my technique, but I feel like crap. I wasn’t going to drive feeling the way I do. Do not mix cancer and colds; you won’t like the way you feel. Even Ben commented on my increased cough.
I explained to them that my daughter was a Type 1 diabetic so I had to give her just a few shots over the years. More so earlier than later; they started training her right away at the ripe old age of four to take care of her condition. Would that we could do that with all kids, teach them to take care of themselves. It would be a far, far, better world. I’m posting a picture of her being trained by a nurse to give a doll an injection that appeared in the local paper at the time.
Anyway, they let me stay at home and shoot up by myself.
If you read very many blogs you will notice that they sometimes post the music that they happen to be listening to as they put their words to electrons. I’m going to do that too.
I had to fire up the VCR—remember those—to watch a video about Lovenox and how to give myself a shot. I have very few tapes left; they’ve all been replaced by DVDs. But I had a copy of a television show, Austin City Limits, that I absolutely love. I’ve titled the tape My Girls. Egotistical of me, I know. It’s an Austin City Limits Songwriters Special, originally aired in 1986, over 20 years ago! It features Gail Davies, Roseanne Cash, Emmylou Harris, Lacy J. Dalton, in addition to Mary Anne Kennedy and Pam Rose. An awesome 60 minutes of female writers and vocalists. It’s brought tears to my eyes several times; Roseanne’s My Old Man, almost anything Gail Davies does, Emmylou…. Heck, they’re all good!
I ran out to PBS.org to see if I could find a DVD of the show. Apparently they don’t do that anymore. But I did find out that the two writers Mary Anne Kennedy and Pam Rose had formed a group called Kennedy Rose (not to be confused with Rose Kennedy) and put out a couple albums.
I did happen to find a video of Gail Davies doing her Grandma’s Song from the special while listening to her sing it on my tape! Wanna talk about coincidence? The story behind Gail’s song? Her grandmother, Francis Witten, taught her the song she starts out with, an old folk tune. She then segues into her tribute song about her grandmother. NEAT!
Gail Davies happens to be one of those Christians whose views are reflected in her music, like her song Never Cross That Line. Well worth listening to. Songs that teach values; interesting concept.
It’s time to take wash out of the drier, put more in the washer, and to fix supper. If I can get one shot, two meals, and three loads of wash done today, I’ll consider today a success. The dishes will have to wait.
And as always, remember that "As a juror, I will exercise my 1000-year-old duty to arrive at a verdict, not just on the basis of the facts of a particular case, or instructions I am given, but through my power to reason, my knowledge of the Bill of Rights, and my individual conscience. When needful, I will judge the law itself." -L. Neil Smith
I explained to them that my daughter was a Type 1 diabetic so I had to give her just a few shots over the years. More so earlier than later; they started training her right away at the ripe old age of four to take care of her condition. Would that we could do that with all kids, teach them to take care of themselves. It would be a far, far, better world. I’m posting a picture of her being trained by a nurse to give a doll an injection that appeared in the local paper at the time.Anyway, they let me stay at home and shoot up by myself.
If you read very many blogs you will notice that they sometimes post the music that they happen to be listening to as they put their words to electrons. I’m going to do that too.
I had to fire up the VCR—remember those—to watch a video about Lovenox and how to give myself a shot. I have very few tapes left; they’ve all been replaced by DVDs. But I had a copy of a television show, Austin City Limits, that I absolutely love. I’ve titled the tape My Girls. Egotistical of me, I know. It’s an Austin City Limits Songwriters Special, originally aired in 1986, over 20 years ago! It features Gail Davies, Roseanne Cash, Emmylou Harris, Lacy J. Dalton, in addition to Mary Anne Kennedy and Pam Rose. An awesome 60 minutes of female writers and vocalists. It’s brought tears to my eyes several times; Roseanne’s My Old Man, almost anything Gail Davies does, Emmylou…. Heck, they’re all good!
I ran out to PBS.org to see if I could find a DVD of the show. Apparently they don’t do that anymore. But I did find out that the two writers Mary Anne Kennedy and Pam Rose had formed a group called Kennedy Rose (not to be confused with Rose Kennedy) and put out a couple albums.
I did happen to find a video of Gail Davies doing her Grandma’s Song from the special while listening to her sing it on my tape! Wanna talk about coincidence? The story behind Gail’s song? Her grandmother, Francis Witten, taught her the song she starts out with, an old folk tune. She then segues into her tribute song about her grandmother. NEAT!
Gail Davies happens to be one of those Christians whose views are reflected in her music, like her song Never Cross That Line. Well worth listening to. Songs that teach values; interesting concept.
It’s time to take wash out of the drier, put more in the washer, and to fix supper. If I can get one shot, two meals, and three loads of wash done today, I’ll consider today a success. The dishes will have to wait.
And as always, remember that "As a juror, I will exercise my 1000-year-old duty to arrive at a verdict, not just on the basis of the facts of a particular case, or instructions I am given, but through my power to reason, my knowledge of the Bill of Rights, and my individual conscience. When needful, I will judge the law itself." -L. Neil Smith
Correcting my father ;-):
- They aren't roses, and they're dots SOOO tiny, you have to point them out for them to be visible. They're barely tattoos ;-)!!
- There are tons of folks older than you! I know you may not feel that way right now, which I totally understand, but you're not that old ;-). That's partly why this situation is understandably so hard to deal with.
- To help explain the stats you quoted a bit.... Docs talk in terms of "five year survival rates." They rarely tell people things like "you have ___ years to live," 'cause that was never accurate anyway. So, the surgeon had said that, WITHOUT surgery, there is a 10% chance you'll be alive in 5 years. WITH surgery, there's a 30% chance you'll be alive in 5 years. The next day, your Oncologist clarified those numbers by saying that, because your cancer had metastasized, those rates ARE worse for you. Now, neither one really specified what role the 6 weeks of radiation will play in those numbers.
- Sorry for the brutal honesty, its even hard to write it, but that's what that all means. I admit, even though I KNOW all this stuff intellectually, those stats were the hardest part for me to hear, as a daughter. That, and the fact that the docs insisted on using the word "palliative" instead of "cure" because you are "Stage 4 w/ Metastasis." They will never use the word "cure" for someone Stage 4 or higher, only "remission" if they are completely successful.
- Now, all that being said, the surgeon was the ONLY one who seemed really motivated to get Dad on the table and cut him open. All other docs have said that the surgery is extremely invasive, would not prevent cancer from coming back elsewhere, especially in the lymph nodes where it has already been detected, and would be "life-altering." The purpose of it would be to alleviate symptoms the tumor is causing and to extend Dad's healthy comfortable years. So, the docs, as well as Dad, have expressed the desire to save surgery for an absolute last resort. On a positive note, the surgeon was clear that Dad would NOT be an invalid or incapacitated after the surgery, but his relationship with food and eating would be forever changed. Not too fun.
- So, sorry for being a downer, but having witnessed the Dad-doctor conversations en masse lately, I wanted to catch everyone else up to speed a bit. As hard as it is, its important to be realistic about it all. Now, all that being said, there are no NEW side effects with radiation, so that therapy won't be any WORSE than the chemo so far. Plus, Dad is taking his IP-6 and reports feeling a bit better. There are other "alternative" therapies that may be available. AND, statistics are, by definition, general. There are always those at the extreme ends of the spectrum that defy all odds, anyway ;-).
Sorry I didn't post any of this sooner. It takes a while to process it all. Plus, we were pretty busy when I was up there.
xoxox,
Amy
- There are tons of folks older than you! I know you may not feel that way right now, which I totally understand, but you're not that old ;-). That's partly why this situation is understandably so hard to deal with.
- To help explain the stats you quoted a bit.... Docs talk in terms of "five year survival rates." They rarely tell people things like "you have ___ years to live," 'cause that was never accurate anyway. So, the surgeon had said that, WITHOUT surgery, there is a 10% chance you'll be alive in 5 years. WITH surgery, there's a 30% chance you'll be alive in 5 years. The next day, your Oncologist clarified those numbers by saying that, because your cancer had metastasized, those rates ARE worse for you. Now, neither one really specified what role the 6 weeks of radiation will play in those numbers.
- Sorry for the brutal honesty, its even hard to write it, but that's what that all means. I admit, even though I KNOW all this stuff intellectually, those stats were the hardest part for me to hear, as a daughter. That, and the fact that the docs insisted on using the word "palliative" instead of "cure" because you are "Stage 4 w/ Metastasis." They will never use the word "cure" for someone Stage 4 or higher, only "remission" if they are completely successful.
- Now, all that being said, the surgeon was the ONLY one who seemed really motivated to get Dad on the table and cut him open. All other docs have said that the surgery is extremely invasive, would not prevent cancer from coming back elsewhere, especially in the lymph nodes where it has already been detected, and would be "life-altering." The purpose of it would be to alleviate symptoms the tumor is causing and to extend Dad's healthy comfortable years. So, the docs, as well as Dad, have expressed the desire to save surgery for an absolute last resort. On a positive note, the surgeon was clear that Dad would NOT be an invalid or incapacitated after the surgery, but his relationship with food and eating would be forever changed. Not too fun.
- So, sorry for being a downer, but having witnessed the Dad-doctor conversations en masse lately, I wanted to catch everyone else up to speed a bit. As hard as it is, its important to be realistic about it all. Now, all that being said, there are no NEW side effects with radiation, so that therapy won't be any WORSE than the chemo so far. Plus, Dad is taking his IP-6 and reports feeling a bit better. There are other "alternative" therapies that may be available. AND, statistics are, by definition, general. There are always those at the extreme ends of the spectrum that defy all odds, anyway ;-).
Sorry I didn't post any of this sooner. It takes a while to process it all. Plus, we were pretty busy when I was up there.
xoxox,
Amy
Wednesday, January 2, 2008
About Me
OK, things have been hectic in a nice way lately. Today was the first day I got to drive myself in about three weeks. Not that I was always able to drive myself, but it was nice to let someone else drive for a change.
I started Chemo on the 19th and Amy got to share that with me. They pulled the pump Christmas Eve Day; the same day that my sister and her husband showed up. It was certainly was nice to see them again. And they loved the dogs.
I was already set up with a series of consultations, so I was at ABMC every day last week but Christmas Day. Monday I had my pump removed. Wednesday I had a surgical consult. Now, you may think I’m complaining again when I say I got there and they didn’t have a record of my appointment. Well, I guess I am. But I’ve come to expect that from Aurora.
The surgeon was a cardio/thoracic surgeon; as opposed to the “general” surgeon I had seen way back in the beginning. It seems that they work as a team doing surgeries of my type. So it was nice to hear his side of the story.
It seems that for people with my level of esophageal cancer the prognosis isn’t very good. Ten percent for a Grade 4 B patient. Surgery can increase my chances to 30%, according to the doc.
It was nice to have my daughter, Amy, and my sister and brother-in-law there to hear some of this from the horse’s mouth, so to speak. They got to ask questions and satisfy their own curiosity.
Interesting note: Several days later, Amy and I were having lunch with Amy’s friend and her husband at a local Mexican restaurant, when we noticed the surgical doc sitting across the room. We traded waves. Later he came over and said Hi and mentioned that he was from San Antonio so he needed Mexican food often. Seems like a real nice guy.
Thursday, I had my ten-day consult with the oncologist at eight days. He was more of the opinion that surgery may not be necessary with a course of radiation and different chemotherapy. He was going to wait for input from the other docs, but was ‘quarterbacking’ the whole treatment and that was his thoughts. So, it looks like I’ll be doing at least one more course of chemo, but with different drugs. It seems that the body adapts and reacts to the drugs after a while. I complained that I still hadn't received my scans yet and he said that he would see that I got them. Hmmmm, oh, not yet.
Friday I had a Radiation oncology consult. It looks like I will be undergoing six weeks of radiation therapy, if you haven’t figured that out from my schedule. I now have four tattoos! They are very tiny roses, two on my lower chest and upper abdomen and one on each side. These are the targets for the radiation beam so it passes through where they want it to go without hitting anything important. At the same time, four different beams hits the tumors with all the energy, but divides it up for the different paths so they only get ¼ the energy.
And, as I said, this doctor also said that surgery might not be necessary for me after they’ve had their shot at me. I’m waiting to see.
While we were there, I heard the receptionist talking to, I assume, Medical Records to get my name changed in the computer. It must have worked; I'm back to being H.
That was last week. Amy left Tuesday morning so that threw me into a great big spiraling depression. OK, maybe not that bad, but I was sad to see her go. Before she left though--it must have been Sunday night--I was undressing in my room in front of the mirror. Being almost directly under the light, I noticed that I saw the shadow of the bulge of the port. But halfway between the port and the AC joint—that bulge on the upper point of the shoulder—there was another larger bulge. Feeling it, it felt soft, just some swelling. I called the kids to witness and verify my observations. Amy—or was it Ben?—noticed that I had another “bulge” above the collarbone. I thought it curious, but didn’t worry too much about it. I asked a couple of people about it, one a nurse, and nobody gave me any cause to worry.
So, I didn’t think about it at all on Monday. Today, however, while I was changing, I noticed the upper bulge was larger. I thought it was the beginning of a goiter! So I called the VLCC and got an appointment.
I take that back. I asked if they wanted me there at any particular time. They said just come in and they would take care of me. So, I got there about 1:30PM. They didn’t get around to me until 2:30PM or slightly after. They took me in, got some history, looked at my chest and decided an ultrasound exam was in order.
I knew something was up when the technician got up during the exam to go consult with someone. It was later confirmed when she left and brought back two more technicians to check her work. It was finally cast in stone when she told me that I had a small clot in a peripheral artery that was causing the problem.
I went back downstairs to the VLCC to await their input. It seems I will be getting blood thinners: Lovenox shots to the stomach, and Coumadin pills. At first, reading the box, I thought the Lovenox was “Love NOX (otherwise known as Nitrous Oxide).” Isn't NOX the same as "laughing gas?" And. you should be interested to find from where (whence) they derive get the drug. Gross!! And if you look up the Coumadin, you’ll find it’s a rat poison! Really! Would I lie?
BTW, my friend in the hospital over deer season for a blood clot was getting shots to the stomach. I’m curious to know if it was the same stuff.
So, I’ll be giving myself the shots until the blood levels of the blood thinners are up to the proper levels to take care of my clot. Since my daughter is a Type 1 diabetic, I’m no stranger to giving shots. But it’s a little different when you have to give them to yourself. Nurse Margaret—did I mention that I like her professional manner and her empathy?—trained me on giving myself the shot. It’s somewhat different than normal shots because there is an air bubble that they actually want me to inject to block the escape of the drug. Other than that, it’s pretty much straightforward. So, I gave the shot and she said that I did just great. Go figure.
I may try to train Ben to give his old man the shot, too. If things don’t go well, he may need to give me other shots someday. And since Himmy is diabetic, he already gives his cat shots. Can I be any worse? Don't answer that!
The nurses had asked if I was having any pain, specifically in the right arm. I haven’t had that yet. But, as I type this, I am developing a pain in the muscle of the shoulder just up from the soft bulges. I’ll keep an eye on it.
So, that’s the deal for now. If you have any questions, if I haven’t explained everything in an intelligible manner, just let me know. Or Amy can correct me! It’s not as if that hasn’t happened before, that my kids correct me. Sometimes I need it. :-D
I started Chemo on the 19th and Amy got to share that with me. They pulled the pump Christmas Eve Day; the same day that my sister and her husband showed up. It was certainly was nice to see them again. And they loved the dogs.
I was already set up with a series of consultations, so I was at ABMC every day last week but Christmas Day. Monday I had my pump removed. Wednesday I had a surgical consult. Now, you may think I’m complaining again when I say I got there and they didn’t have a record of my appointment. Well, I guess I am. But I’ve come to expect that from Aurora.
The surgeon was a cardio/thoracic surgeon; as opposed to the “general” surgeon I had seen way back in the beginning. It seems that they work as a team doing surgeries of my type. So it was nice to hear his side of the story.
It seems that for people with my level of esophageal cancer the prognosis isn’t very good. Ten percent for a Grade 4 B patient. Surgery can increase my chances to 30%, according to the doc.
It was nice to have my daughter, Amy, and my sister and brother-in-law there to hear some of this from the horse’s mouth, so to speak. They got to ask questions and satisfy their own curiosity.
Interesting note: Several days later, Amy and I were having lunch with Amy’s friend and her husband at a local Mexican restaurant, when we noticed the surgical doc sitting across the room. We traded waves. Later he came over and said Hi and mentioned that he was from San Antonio so he needed Mexican food often. Seems like a real nice guy.
Thursday, I had my ten-day consult with the oncologist at eight days. He was more of the opinion that surgery may not be necessary with a course of radiation and different chemotherapy. He was going to wait for input from the other docs, but was ‘quarterbacking’ the whole treatment and that was his thoughts. So, it looks like I’ll be doing at least one more course of chemo, but with different drugs. It seems that the body adapts and reacts to the drugs after a while. I complained that I still hadn't received my scans yet and he said that he would see that I got them. Hmmmm, oh, not yet.
Friday I had a Radiation oncology consult. It looks like I will be undergoing six weeks of radiation therapy, if you haven’t figured that out from my schedule. I now have four tattoos! They are very tiny roses, two on my lower chest and upper abdomen and one on each side. These are the targets for the radiation beam so it passes through where they want it to go without hitting anything important. At the same time, four different beams hits the tumors with all the energy, but divides it up for the different paths so they only get ¼ the energy.
And, as I said, this doctor also said that surgery might not be necessary for me after they’ve had their shot at me. I’m waiting to see.
While we were there, I heard the receptionist talking to, I assume, Medical Records to get my name changed in the computer. It must have worked; I'm back to being H.
That was last week. Amy left Tuesday morning so that threw me into a great big spiraling depression. OK, maybe not that bad, but I was sad to see her go. Before she left though--it must have been Sunday night--I was undressing in my room in front of the mirror. Being almost directly under the light, I noticed that I saw the shadow of the bulge of the port. But halfway between the port and the AC joint—that bulge on the upper point of the shoulder—there was another larger bulge. Feeling it, it felt soft, just some swelling. I called the kids to witness and verify my observations. Amy—or was it Ben?—noticed that I had another “bulge” above the collarbone. I thought it curious, but didn’t worry too much about it. I asked a couple of people about it, one a nurse, and nobody gave me any cause to worry.
So, I didn’t think about it at all on Monday. Today, however, while I was changing, I noticed the upper bulge was larger. I thought it was the beginning of a goiter! So I called the VLCC and got an appointment.
I take that back. I asked if they wanted me there at any particular time. They said just come in and they would take care of me. So, I got there about 1:30PM. They didn’t get around to me until 2:30PM or slightly after. They took me in, got some history, looked at my chest and decided an ultrasound exam was in order.
I knew something was up when the technician got up during the exam to go consult with someone. It was later confirmed when she left and brought back two more technicians to check her work. It was finally cast in stone when she told me that I had a small clot in a peripheral artery that was causing the problem.
I went back downstairs to the VLCC to await their input. It seems I will be getting blood thinners: Lovenox shots to the stomach, and Coumadin pills. At first, reading the box, I thought the Lovenox was “Love NOX (otherwise known as Nitrous Oxide).” Isn't NOX the same as "laughing gas?" And. you should be interested to find from where (whence) they derive get the drug. Gross!! And if you look up the Coumadin, you’ll find it’s a rat poison! Really! Would I lie?
BTW, my friend in the hospital over deer season for a blood clot was getting shots to the stomach. I’m curious to know if it was the same stuff.
So, I’ll be giving myself the shots until the blood levels of the blood thinners are up to the proper levels to take care of my clot. Since my daughter is a Type 1 diabetic, I’m no stranger to giving shots. But it’s a little different when you have to give them to yourself. Nurse Margaret—did I mention that I like her professional manner and her empathy?—trained me on giving myself the shot. It’s somewhat different than normal shots because there is an air bubble that they actually want me to inject to block the escape of the drug. Other than that, it’s pretty much straightforward. So, I gave the shot and she said that I did just great. Go figure.
I may try to train Ben to give his old man the shot, too. If things don’t go well, he may need to give me other shots someday. And since Himmy is diabetic, he already gives his cat shots. Can I be any worse? Don't answer that!
The nurses had asked if I was having any pain, specifically in the right arm. I haven’t had that yet. But, as I type this, I am developing a pain in the muscle of the shoulder just up from the soft bulges. I’ll keep an eye on it.
So, that’s the deal for now. If you have any questions, if I haven’t explained everything in an intelligible manner, just let me know. Or Amy can correct me! It’s not as if that hasn’t happened before, that my kids correct me. Sometimes I need it. :-D
Amy Watch 2
“Age does not diminish the extreme disappointment of having a scoop of ice cream fall from the cone.” -Jim Fiebig
The same goes for watching your child, adult as they are, leaving with their “kids” to return to their home far, far, away after staying for almost three weeks. Now I’m depressed.
It was fun having Amy and her “monsters” here, even though I didn’t always feel up to it; I had both kids and their pets with me. It reminded me of happy times when the kids were young. It was the best Christmas present they could have given me followed closely by the big heavy blue bathrobe that withstands even winter’s chill when out letting the “monsters” take care of business before getting into the van for the return trip.
Amy left this morning at 8:00AM to return home. To keep folks apprised about her progress, I’ll do the same with this post that I did for her trip up.
I have this post set for Jan 10, so it will stay under my "sticky" schedule when I add other posts this week since I will be bored with little to do when Ben goes to work!
1/1/08
08:00AM -Amy left! :-(
10:10AM -Crossing over into Illinois! The dogs are "moping and whining."
12:05PM -Passing Kankakee where the kids were born. She's now driving in snow and will have snow down past Effingham. She sends me text messages and asks for mileage and weather reports! I look things up on the Internet and text her answers back. Ain't technology wunnerful?
03:15PM -Passing Effingham, IL. Still snowing.
04:28PM -Sunshine!!!!
06:00PM -Past Paducah, KY. Looking to stop the night in Franklin just south of Nashville.
07:17PM -She made Tennessee!
08:15PM -She just got to the hotel in Franklin. She's beat after12 hours and the dogs are rarin' to go! Hopefully she'll get them calmed down for the night. Anticipating an early start in the AM.
Sweet dreams, all!
1/2/08
08:45AM -Got a text message that says she's in Georgia. Four hours to cross GA and another three to get to Tampa and she's home. I asked when she left, 'cause I was waiting for her text message to wake me up early. She said she left at daybreak, which for Franklin was around 6:58 this AM. Allowing for the time change, that would have been about 6:00AM my time. So, see you back here about 1:00PM!
03:13PM -Just got into Florida. I didn't find out why she took so long. Probably stopped for lunch and to potty the monsters.
05:56PM -Our time, Amy just got home!
Sorry I didn't keep this up-to-date in real time. Had some fun here with the doctors. It seems I have a blood clot. But now that I've given the spoiler, I'll update you in another post.
But Amy is home safe and sound.
The same goes for watching your child, adult as they are, leaving with their “kids” to return to their home far, far, away after staying for almost three weeks. Now I’m depressed.
It was fun having Amy and her “monsters” here, even though I didn’t always feel up to it; I had both kids and their pets with me. It reminded me of happy times when the kids were young. It was the best Christmas present they could have given me followed closely by the big heavy blue bathrobe that withstands even winter’s chill when out letting the “monsters” take care of business before getting into the van for the return trip.
Amy left this morning at 8:00AM to return home. To keep folks apprised about her progress, I’ll do the same with this post that I did for her trip up.
I have this post set for Jan 10, so it will stay under my "sticky" schedule when I add other posts this week since I will be bored with little to do when Ben goes to work!
1/1/08
08:00AM -Amy left! :-(
10:10AM -Crossing over into Illinois! The dogs are "moping and whining."
12:05PM -Passing Kankakee where the kids were born. She's now driving in snow and will have snow down past Effingham. She sends me text messages and asks for mileage and weather reports! I look things up on the Internet and text her answers back. Ain't technology wunnerful?
03:15PM -Passing Effingham, IL. Still snowing.
04:28PM -Sunshine!!!!
06:00PM -Past Paducah, KY. Looking to stop the night in Franklin just south of Nashville.
07:17PM -She made Tennessee!
08:15PM -She just got to the hotel in Franklin. She's beat after12 hours and the dogs are rarin' to go! Hopefully she'll get them calmed down for the night. Anticipating an early start in the AM.
Sweet dreams, all!
1/2/08
08:45AM -Got a text message that says she's in Georgia. Four hours to cross GA and another three to get to Tampa and she's home. I asked when she left, 'cause I was waiting for her text message to wake me up early. She said she left at daybreak, which for Franklin was around 6:58 this AM. Allowing for the time change, that would have been about 6:00AM my time. So, see you back here about 1:00PM!
03:13PM -Just got into Florida. I didn't find out why she took so long. Probably stopped for lunch and to potty the monsters.
05:56PM -Our time, Amy just got home!
Sorry I didn't keep this up-to-date in real time. Had some fun here with the doctors. It seems I have a blood clot. But now that I've given the spoiler, I'll update you in another post.
But Amy is home safe and sound.
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
Peace on Earth, Goodwill Towards Men
As you might imagine, things have been somewhat hectic here. That might account for the fact that I forgot to take my sleepy-time OTC meds. That’s the only way I can try and maintain a sleep schedule that matches the rest of the humans around me even though my condition predisposes me against that.
So when Maz heard a sound at 2:10AM and alerted the household, as he should, I was up for the rest of the night. I tried to get back to sleep, but the brain was working overtime. So, since I had moved my WiFi-equipped computer into the bedroom with me, I decided to check my email and write down my thoughts to post here. But when I got to my emails, I found something interesting.
I subscribe to a quote service that sends me liberty quotes by guys like Jefferson, Socrates, Adams, Cato, Locke, and Washington. So I was intrigued when I found an email of quotes by a guy named Jesus of Nazareth; I had to read them.
What I found was interesting. And, in my state of mind, I had a surprisingly different take than I had when I first read them years ago.
Let’s take a look at them:
"But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you." -Holy Bible, Matthew 5:44.
"Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be called the children of God." -Holy Bible, Matthew 5:9.
Take a look at that second quote again. Who shall be called “the children of God?” The peacemakers, right? So the folks who aren’t peacemakers, the warmongers, can’t or won’t be called the children of God. With me so far? And all good Christians should want to be called “the children of God,” I should think. So, all good Christians should be peacemakers, right? Loving their enemies, blessing those who curse them, doing good to those that hate them, all that stuff.
So all those good Christians here in the Land of the Free and Home of the Brave should be for Peace on Earth and have Goodwill towards all Men. Right? Am I missing something here?
Then why do we have troops in over 140 countries and are engaged in two war zones? Sounds like all those potential ‘children of God’ aren’t doing their job. So whose children are they then?
Just a thought.
As for why I’m interested, I believe in LIBERTY. It’s a strange thing, liberty. I can’t have it unless I ‘allow’ you to have it. If you have liberty and I have liberty and neither of us try to make the other do something against our rights and will, we will have peace between us. So folks who advocate liberty have a shot at becoming a child of God; those who don’t, don’t.
Just as long as we understand each other.
Feliz Navidad!
So when Maz heard a sound at 2:10AM and alerted the household, as he should, I was up for the rest of the night. I tried to get back to sleep, but the brain was working overtime. So, since I had moved my WiFi-equipped computer into the bedroom with me, I decided to check my email and write down my thoughts to post here. But when I got to my emails, I found something interesting.
I subscribe to a quote service that sends me liberty quotes by guys like Jefferson, Socrates, Adams, Cato, Locke, and Washington. So I was intrigued when I found an email of quotes by a guy named Jesus of Nazareth; I had to read them.
What I found was interesting. And, in my state of mind, I had a surprisingly different take than I had when I first read them years ago.
Let’s take a look at them:
"But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you." -Holy Bible, Matthew 5:44.
"Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be called the children of God." -Holy Bible, Matthew 5:9.
Take a look at that second quote again. Who shall be called “the children of God?” The peacemakers, right? So the folks who aren’t peacemakers, the warmongers, can’t or won’t be called the children of God. With me so far? And all good Christians should want to be called “the children of God,” I should think. So, all good Christians should be peacemakers, right? Loving their enemies, blessing those who curse them, doing good to those that hate them, all that stuff.
So all those good Christians here in the Land of the Free and Home of the Brave should be for Peace on Earth and have Goodwill towards all Men. Right? Am I missing something here?
Then why do we have troops in over 140 countries and are engaged in two war zones? Sounds like all those potential ‘children of God’ aren’t doing their job. So whose children are they then?
Just a thought.
As for why I’m interested, I believe in LIBERTY. It’s a strange thing, liberty. I can’t have it unless I ‘allow’ you to have it. If you have liberty and I have liberty and neither of us try to make the other do something against our rights and will, we will have peace between us. So folks who advocate liberty have a shot at becoming a child of God; those who don’t, don’t.
Just as long as we understand each other.
Feliz Navidad!
Sunday, December 23, 2007
Amy’s Stay, Day 7
Updates, huh?
As you might imagine, I have a confluence of things going on all at the same time this time of year.
My chemo is going marginally better than last time. Or, I’m getting use to dealing with it. But I can feel pretty crappy depending on the circumstances. Especially if they want me to do the dishes! :-) And the pump does come off tomorrow.
As for my worsening condition, Amy touched lightly on the issue. My last PET scan was so-o-o-o good that we might have forgot what my doctor had said. He had stated that their hope, their goal, was just to keep things from getting worse than the way I came in during the first few courses of chemo. Which was why my tumor reduction was a “dramatic improvement.” We’re probably just getting back to a normal progression of events I guess you could say. I did get a tentative agreement to use the "cancer strength" product called IP-6. I’ll take the documentation in tomorrow and we’ll see.
As some of you may know, I tend to read and agree with a lot of the stuff Lew Rockwell has on his site, and I have commented on Bill Sardi’s site, Knowledge of Health, before. Besides, I believe that, just like Genesis 1:29 says, “all seed-bearing plants” can be used for food, for the health of our bodies. No matter what someone else may say.
Amy’s friend, Mike, flew in Friday night to visit for the Holiday weekend. He had been on one of those islands in the Caribbean—for work, honest—and had to fly into Green Bay to visit us. Quite the contrast!! He was delayed by fog just getting into GB.
We ran down to Ken and Kris’s today for Christmas dinner. The snow caused us to take quite a while on the trip, both ways. Amy was driving her Florida rental, which was fun. She drove very cautiously! Drove me nuts! But then, I can’t drive all the time, I guess.
Tomorrow Ben has to go in to work early for a few hours, Mike flies out of GB to go home, then I have to get my pump removed, my sister ,Cuz, and Ronny are coming up for a few days, and I might have friends stopping by to say “Feliz Navidad” in the afternoon. So I might not get a chance to stop by and say anything for a while.
So “Feliz Navidad!” And have a safe and Merry Christmas if I don’t talk to you before then.
And remember, this goes back to Genesis 1:29: "As a juror, I will exercise my 1000-year-old duty to arrive at a verdict, not just on the basis of the facts of a particular case, or instructions I am given, but through my power to reason, my knowledge of the Bill of Rights, and my individual conscience. When needful, I will judge the law itself." -L. Neil Smith
As you might imagine, I have a confluence of things going on all at the same time this time of year.
My chemo is going marginally better than last time. Or, I’m getting use to dealing with it. But I can feel pretty crappy depending on the circumstances. Especially if they want me to do the dishes! :-) And the pump does come off tomorrow.
As for my worsening condition, Amy touched lightly on the issue. My last PET scan was so-o-o-o good that we might have forgot what my doctor had said. He had stated that their hope, their goal, was just to keep things from getting worse than the way I came in during the first few courses of chemo. Which was why my tumor reduction was a “dramatic improvement.” We’re probably just getting back to a normal progression of events I guess you could say. I did get a tentative agreement to use the "cancer strength" product called IP-6. I’ll take the documentation in tomorrow and we’ll see.
As some of you may know, I tend to read and agree with a lot of the stuff Lew Rockwell has on his site, and I have commented on Bill Sardi’s site, Knowledge of Health, before. Besides, I believe that, just like Genesis 1:29 says, “all seed-bearing plants” can be used for food, for the health of our bodies. No matter what someone else may say.
Amy’s friend, Mike, flew in Friday night to visit for the Holiday weekend. He had been on one of those islands in the Caribbean—for work, honest—and had to fly into Green Bay to visit us. Quite the contrast!! He was delayed by fog just getting into GB.
We ran down to Ken and Kris’s today for Christmas dinner. The snow caused us to take quite a while on the trip, both ways. Amy was driving her Florida rental, which was fun. She drove very cautiously! Drove me nuts! But then, I can’t drive all the time, I guess.
Tomorrow Ben has to go in to work early for a few hours, Mike flies out of GB to go home, then I have to get my pump removed, my sister ,Cuz, and Ronny are coming up for a few days, and I might have friends stopping by to say “Feliz Navidad” in the afternoon. So I might not get a chance to stop by and say anything for a while.
So “Feliz Navidad!” And have a safe and Merry Christmas if I don’t talk to you before then.
And remember, this goes back to Genesis 1:29: "As a juror, I will exercise my 1000-year-old duty to arrive at a verdict, not just on the basis of the facts of a particular case, or instructions I am given, but through my power to reason, my knowledge of the Bill of Rights, and my individual conscience. When needful, I will judge the law itself." -L. Neil Smith
Thursday, December 20, 2007
Amy’s Stay, Day 4
As you might imagine, I’ve been busy and tired. The Dexamethasone (the steroid) has been bugging me, and I think the chemo is hitting a little faster this time.
PET Scan results have shown some regression; the tumor has gotten larger since the last PET Scan. I figured as much because of the problems I have eating the farther I get away from a Round. Or to say it another way, the closer I get to my next Round of chemo I start to have trouble with my stomach. I’ve had my first Ensure in quite a while.
So the hiccups have started again, I seem to get tired a little earlier, and my muscles are starting to fail and it’s only what, Day 2? At least I don’t have any nausea. And although the hiccups are disconcerting, they don’t cause much pain.
Amy, her mom, and Ken have run out to the mall. I’ve begged off pleading being fatigue. And it is true; I do better earlier in the day. So I thought I’d update my schedule and pass on a little info.
If you noticed my schedule there is a couple of consults scheduled for next week. For the first time, maybe because it was a different doctor, they have me scheduled for a Radiation consult. And I have another surgical consult. Por que? No se! The last one wanted to take out my esophagus; maybe they’ll talk about just moving the stomach up a little.
I did get some records finally. I still don’t have the scans to post here, I don’t have the records I paid for, and they still haven’t gotten my name right! How’s that for belly aching? I mentioned that I might get a little more critical when I’m not feeling well due to my chemo and Amy started laughing. I don’t get it! What was that about?
Feliz Navidad!
"As a juror, I will exercise my 1000-year-old duty to arrive at a verdict, not just on the basis of the facts of a particular case, or instructions I am given, but through my power to reason, my knowledge of the Bill of Rights, and my individual conscience. When needful, I will judge the law itself." -L. Neil Smith
PET Scan results have shown some regression; the tumor has gotten larger since the last PET Scan. I figured as much because of the problems I have eating the farther I get away from a Round. Or to say it another way, the closer I get to my next Round of chemo I start to have trouble with my stomach. I’ve had my first Ensure in quite a while.
So the hiccups have started again, I seem to get tired a little earlier, and my muscles are starting to fail and it’s only what, Day 2? At least I don’t have any nausea. And although the hiccups are disconcerting, they don’t cause much pain.
Amy, her mom, and Ken have run out to the mall. I’ve begged off pleading being fatigue. And it is true; I do better earlier in the day. So I thought I’d update my schedule and pass on a little info.
If you noticed my schedule there is a couple of consults scheduled for next week. For the first time, maybe because it was a different doctor, they have me scheduled for a Radiation consult. And I have another surgical consult. Por que? No se! The last one wanted to take out my esophagus; maybe they’ll talk about just moving the stomach up a little.
I did get some records finally. I still don’t have the scans to post here, I don’t have the records I paid for, and they still haven’t gotten my name right! How’s that for belly aching? I mentioned that I might get a little more critical when I’m not feeling well due to my chemo and Amy started laughing. I don’t get it! What was that about?
Feliz Navidad!
"As a juror, I will exercise my 1000-year-old duty to arrive at a verdict, not just on the basis of the facts of a particular case, or instructions I am given, but through my power to reason, my knowledge of the Bill of Rights, and my individual conscience. When needful, I will judge the law itself." -L. Neil Smith
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Amy’s Stay, Day 2
Thought you guys might like a picture of Amy’s monsters.
I was RTR (Riding the Recliner) when I asked Mazeru (Maz) up for a cuddle. Maz it is the one closest to my head. Apparently, Mia got jealous and decided to “hop” up as well. Do you know what it’s like to have 140 pounds of squirming dogs in your lap and on your chest?
I asked Ben to take a picture with my camera. Since he was unfamiliar with my camera, it took him a short time to get it figured out. So I ended up encouraging the dogs to stay just a little longer.
If you notice, the snowman’s hat is empty to keep the dogs from eating the M&M Peanuts that were there. The squirt bottle is close at hand to keep the monsters in line. They respect water! Especially here in cold Wisconsin. Florida dogs, what wimps!!!
The cats have done pretty well. Mousebane has decided that he is the King of the House and decided to exercise his Royal Prerogative. We would cage the dogs and allow the cats a chance at full run of the house. Everyone handled things pretty well, so we decided to leash the dogs and see how things went.
I took a photo—which I’m including—of the general encounter, which went pretty well.
I have a futon sofa that opens into a bed that we opened to allow the dogs to ‘sit’ on. Mia was lying down in the spot that shows right between Mousebane’s ears in the photo, next to the futon. Mousebane eventually snuck up behind the recliner and suddenly jumped into the seat of the recliner from behind. Maz jumped straight up as did Mia and Amy.
What was remarkable was that Mia started attacking Maz, protecting Mousebane!!! Remember that all of this is taking place on top of Amy on the end of their leashes! 140 pounds of mock dogfight, because Mia wasn’t trying to hurt Maz, just prevent him from getting Mousebane.
What was remarkable was that later, Mia defended me against Maz’s playful antics. I have a defender! Mia, as we said before, is a Pit Bull Terrier but just as sweet as they come. BUT, she is a strong-willed bitch that needs attention and direction. Her motto is “Kiss me of kick me, just don’t ignore me.” If you can live with that, she’s a great dog!
So, I need to get off here and get ready for Round 5 Day 1 tomorrow.
Feliz Navidad!
"As a juror, I will exercise my 1000-year-old duty to arrive at a verdict, not just on the basis of the facts of a particular case, or instructions I am given, but through my power to reason, my knowledge of the Bill of Rights, and my individual conscience. When needful, I will judge the law itself." -L. Neil Smith
I was RTR (Riding the Recliner) when I asked Mazeru (Maz) up for a cuddle. Maz it is the one closest to my head. Apparently, Mia got jealous and decided to “hop” up as well. Do you know what it’s like to have 140 pounds of squirming dogs in your lap and on your chest?
I asked Ben to take a picture with my camera. Since he was unfamiliar with my camera, it took him a short time to get it figured out. So I ended up encouraging the dogs to stay just a little longer.If you notice, the snowman’s hat is empty to keep the dogs from eating the M&M Peanuts that were there. The squirt bottle is close at hand to keep the monsters in line. They respect water! Especially here in cold Wisconsin. Florida dogs, what wimps!!!
The cats have done pretty well. Mousebane has decided that he is the King of the House and decided to exercise his Royal Prerogative. We would cage the dogs and allow the cats a chance at full run of the house. Everyone handled things pretty well, so we decided to leash the dogs and see how things went.I took a photo—which I’m including—of the general encounter, which went pretty well.
I have a futon sofa that opens into a bed that we opened to allow the dogs to ‘sit’ on. Mia was lying down in the spot that shows right between Mousebane’s ears in the photo, next to the futon. Mousebane eventually snuck up behind the recliner and suddenly jumped into the seat of the recliner from behind. Maz jumped straight up as did Mia and Amy.
What was remarkable was that Mia started attacking Maz, protecting Mousebane!!! Remember that all of this is taking place on top of Amy on the end of their leashes! 140 pounds of mock dogfight, because Mia wasn’t trying to hurt Maz, just prevent him from getting Mousebane.
What was remarkable was that later, Mia defended me against Maz’s playful antics. I have a defender! Mia, as we said before, is a Pit Bull Terrier but just as sweet as they come. BUT, she is a strong-willed bitch that needs attention and direction. Her motto is “Kiss me of kick me, just don’t ignore me.” If you can live with that, she’s a great dog!
So, I need to get off here and get ready for Round 5 Day 1 tomorrow.
Feliz Navidad!
"As a juror, I will exercise my 1000-year-old duty to arrive at a verdict, not just on the basis of the facts of a particular case, or instructions I am given, but through my power to reason, my knowledge of the Bill of Rights, and my individual conscience. When needful, I will judge the law itself." -L. Neil Smith
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