OMG: I have been a nurse in 5 decades!

Holy cow.  Or as my uncle (may he rest in peace) -  always said "Holy Mackerel!"

I can't believe that!  When did I get this old?  Where did the time go? WTFlip????

It was just yesterday that the first blush of nursing took hold of me.....and I was afraid of killing patients.  Now I just want to get through the day without killing myself.   Funny how the old body just decides to turn on me.  I used to run relays and was the Interior Provincial Javelin throwing champion. I hiked up mountains, biked where I wanted to go and walked miles and miles.....

It could be worse. At least I have all my faculties about me.  The neurons are synapsing in an orderly fashion - for me, anyway.

I was just having this convo with my Nurse Cousin from Texas.....

When I was a young thing, I used to wonder how the old people I looked after couldn't see all those hairs growing off their nose or out their nostrils or ears,  the extra huge eyebrows that were never plucked and wondered how they didn't know there were growths coming out of their face......you know, all that grooming that needs to be kept up with.....

And now, with the help of my 25X mirror.....I *know* why......

They couldn't see anything up close.  Glasses can only do so much.  When it comes right down to it....ya really need a 25X mirror to see everything .....

And..... Holy Mackerel.  FIVE DECADES...............

Where's that glass of wine.......???????

YEARS of NURSING...

I was going through some old drawers and boxes today....and found this stack of date books.

They basically represents my career as an RN. I think I am only missing one year...and that is because it was on an *actual* BIG calendar, as opposed to a diary-book calendar. Count them. 19. Most are 2 year calendars and some are one year calendars.

I can thumb through them and see where I was on whatever day for the last 30 years. Amazing isn't it?

That all those years boil down to 19 books. Oh. And that doesn't include this years book. That is 5 decades! =^@

What it doesn't show is all those years of caring for people...hours spent worrying about their well being - miles of running up and down hallways, countless medications given out, numerous IV's hung, over 6,000 babies delivered, a billion MD orders - well - everything an RN does in a day. Or a night.

Some years were better than others. Some were washes. But I can say, I did learn a lot and did a lot in all those years. Geriatrics, Rehab, Medical, Surgical, Store Nurse, L&D, Gyne, Nursery, Psychiatry, Telemetry, Camp RN, Travel Nursing, Prison Nursing, Triage RN,Float RN, Board of director for Non-profit Seniors Assisted Living... all that packed into 19 little date books. Or 30 some odd years- whichever way you want to look at it.

I don't know why I keep them. Maybe because they are like a diary of what the biggest part of my life was....or is. I probably spent more Christmases and more holidays and more birthdays and more special times with colleagues and patients than with my own family. There are little notes here and there of things I did....travelling backpacking in Europe. Twice. A dozen or so odd trips to Hawaii. More than that to Mexico. More moves than I can count - approximately Seventeen? - within 2 different countries, with 7 homes purchased and 7 Canadian and 5 American hospitals worked in.

I Lost count long ago - of the boyfriends I dated and the friends I left behind and the roommates that moved on. But even though they are a record of the past....it's the present that means more to me.

So - was it all worth it? I think so. Although I had my misgivings many times over the years, what I chose as a career (although I didn't really ever consider it a career since it was supposed to only be temporary) made me who I am today - and I quite like where I am at the moment.

But given the opportunity to leave it for good - would I? You bet. But, for now, it is difficult to let go of what has been a major part of one's life.

And so I hang on to that dusty little pile of elastic-bound date books. And every once in a while.....I flip through them and smile........

Personal Pain Management

I was sitting in the hot tub this afternoon, soaking in the ambiance....watching the light breeze rustle the palms in our back yard (yes, we can grow palms in Western Canada- outside!) and the flowers around the yard....enjoying the hazy afternoon sunlight reflecting off the panes of glass.....

.....and I realized....NO PAIN!

I hadn't taken anything for pain since I started with the twice per day use of the hot tub we bought a couple weeks ago~! It's a miracle in itself that I am not taking anything ( tried celebrex, arthrotec, Mersyndol -stayed away from outright narcotics) but it is even more of a miracle that I forgot to take anything!

I had been in two rear-ender MVAs in the last 10 years. In 2001 I was sitting at a stop light waiting for it to turn green and a woman in one of those HUGE old cars - plowed into the back of me. Distracted with her daughter in the seat next to her - she just wasn't paying attention. After an intensive physio program I was left with only a slight residual shoulder pain - but able to go back to L&D full time.

No sooner had I settled that case - that very month - I was driving along the freeway at lawful speed (100 kmph), once again minding my own business on my way to my Uncle's funeral, when a Mack truck with a tandem and full load hit me from behind and knocked me off the freeway....just missing a concrete abutment on one side and a water filled ditch on the other. I managed to keep the vehicle upright. Angels were present, I am sure of that. I could have been killed.

What it did to me was cause injury to my upper back and shoulders - and after a struggle, and an ill-fated attempt to go back to work, I realized that I couldn't do hospital nursing anymore. Can't do heavy lifting. I was having constant upper back and shoulder pain. I went to Physio, OT , acupuncturist, chiropractor, Registered Massage Therapist....saw my MD for regular cortisone shots and a Surgeon to consult for possible surgery and a Physiatrist for suggestions for rehab.....all said the same thing.

No more hospital work.

It was heartbreaking, but I was lucky to be able to fall back onto a nursing job that is not physically demanding but still nursing. I am even luckier to be able to do it from my home most of the time - since now I am stressed about freeway driving.

So - you can see how amazed I was to discover - I no longer needed anything for pain! The Jets of our spa are incredible. It's only a 3 man spa but it has 2 motors with incredible massage capabilities. Better yet, to use it, I don't have to make an appointment, get dressed up, drive to where it is or share it with anyone else (people soup-ick!). I can use it as soon as I need it instead of waiting until an appointment becomes available.

Ahhhhhh. This is the life. Hydrotherapy - Just what I needed!

Here is a partial view of what I can see from our Spa......

Breathe In, Breathe Out...

I looked after a young man years ago. He was a handsome guy, early 20s. Lots of fun. Very talented. All the nurses knew him from his many admissions and absolutely adored him. He was that type of patient you never minded taking care of. I can still picture him sitting cross-legged on his bed as he struggled to breathe.

One day, he was admitted to the hospital and he didn't get better. His death touched all of us. I think it was my first time experiencing the death of someone my own age. It made an impression on me - I still remember his name.

Last year, I read about a young girl in my own town, close to the same age as the young man that passed away 30 years ago and I thought of him again. You see, they had something in common.

Cystic Fibrosis.

Eva Markvoort was only 25 when Cystic Fibrosis ended her life prematurely. She tried desperately to live. She had a double lung transplant which her body rejected. She did everything she could to fight the Disease until trying wasn't enough anymore. I had been following her blog every once in a while the year before she died - and watched her videos. She was an amazing young woman. One of her dreams was to make a movie documentary . And she did.

The title? "65_Redroses". Interesting name.

Cystic Fibrosis strikes early. Early enough that very young children are affected. When children so young have an illness that is difficult to pronounce, sometimes the words get twisted. Cystic Fibrosis often comes out as "Sixty-five Roses". Eva threw in the "Red" because that was her favorite color.

Even though it was expected, it was a shock to read that Eva had finally died. When you follow someone's blog, somehow they become part of your life, and if they reveal enough about themselves, it is like they are one of your circle of friends. I wasn't quite ready for it.

In a way, Eva still lives on........


* Average Age of Survival through the years:
1950 - Age 1
1960 - Age 10
1970 - Age 16
1980 - Age 18
1990 - Age 29
2000 - Age 32
2004 - Age 35.1
2006 - Age 36.9
2007 - Age 37.4 (but only 50% will reach this age)

Hospital Hazards and Other Trips

I am back from the "Dreaded Trip".

 I was apprehensive about my mother going to a hospital that has been on the news lately for stuffing patients in closets and hallways and such, so I felt I had to do my daughterly duty, ensuring her safety. The previous surgery (in a larger hospital) 15 years ago found my mother on the OR table, ready for a thyroidectomy when the OR nurse informed her she was being prepped for a hip replacement - which probably would have been a serendipitous thing given the surgery being done this hospital trip - except for the fact that it would have been the wrong hip. My mom freaked and needed a good dose of ativan to settle her down that time.  Needless to say, she preferred that I be there for this surgery.

Adding to my anxiety -  my sister-in-law is a Manager at the larger and much *better* hospital (so she keeps telling me) just south of where my mother was to have her surgery...and she had nothing good to say about the place....so I was just a little bit worried.

Well, all that worry was for naught. All of the RNs and MDs were pretty darn good and the surgery went well with no hitches or mistakes.

AND my mother was lucky enough to be admitted to a four bed ward instead of a closet.  Bonus.   However, to her surprise and shock.... her room was Co-ed. Nothing worse than 3 men on the other side of your thin little curtain to stifle a BM or a fart good crop dusting.

 She did exceptionally well and that next day I dutifully assisted her to the bathroom -  my dad worried the whole time -  "Let the nurses do it" - inferring that I had no clue as to what I was doing.   Dad....I AM a nurse.......geezzzzzzzz.  What's with the men in my life that they doubt my nursing skills?

The other patients were quite ok, despite being the opposite gender. Here is a rundown:

Patient #1 was a medical patient - lines out the ying-yang and a TPN. My mother over heard they had "brought him from the dead".  Doesn't look like they did him any favors because he still had that pasty/waxy look, and rattly mucousy death moans that apparently kept my mother awake all night. He mysteriously disappeared after the second night. 

Mom was in bed #2 - which should have been a bed with a view outside - but for some reason was without the benefit of a window. Who designed this room anyway? If you have the good fortune to get a "window" bed - you should at least get a window with it.

A guy that mom said looked just like her minister was in bed # 3. For social reasons, it was nice he was mobile. Maybe it is just me, but you would think it would be difficult enough to have to have a peaceful dump in a room with 3 guys - but when one looks like your minister......? There are benefits to having a roommate that is unconscious (see bed #1).

Bed # 4 was a younger guy (40ish) who fell off his vacation home roof and fractured his femur in 3 different places. He had an assortment of leg splints, neck brace, bruises and probably a pneumovac - it looked like. I tried not to look in that direction. I think he had suffered from a pneumothorax secondary to # ribs ....his O2 sats kept dropping while the PT worked on him....poor guy...he was a mess. Not so much of a mess, apparently, that he would be transferred to a bigger center. Thank goodness I don't have a vacation home to fall off of. At least, not anymore. Sold the ski Chalet a few years back.

Coming from Good Dutch Stock, my mom is a tough old bird. She and my father have a "hobby bed and breakfast" which they run on their own. It is no small feat - seven THOUSAND square feet with 8 bedrooms and 8.5 bathrooms. The driveway is almost vertical...I kid you not....all 700 something feet of it, and the two of them (my dad is 80) go out there in the winter time and hand shovel the entire drive - top to bottom every time a skiff of snow falls. Keep in mind this is Canada.   It does snow here. 

Last year the snow came half way up their window. My dad has Parkinson's and my mother, a bad hip. You get the picture. Mom had to get that hip replaced.....before the next winter. My parents refuse to get assistance with the shovelling, the cleaning, the laundry, the cooking......we've even tried paying for it. No one else does it good enough, not even their own kids. Old people can be stubborn. Personally, I would not be unhappy if the place burned to the ground. Without them in it, of course.

Anyway, the trip there was nail biting for sure. Snow on the pass. Massive headache. Finally had to pop a propanolol for the anxiety and a Mersyndol for the headache. Washed them both down with a Timmy's en route.  Not sure it helped any.

Did I ever tell you that the worst snowstorm I ever drove through was a snowstorm in Northern California in the month of May?? I left for Canada from Redding at 6 am....driving along in my little gold Mercedes Convertible and not 1/2 hr down the I-5 ....SNOW! It came down faster and harder and snowplows were passing me.....and finally when I got to Weed, the snow was so high it came up to my windows! Needless to say, I did a 180 back to Redding. Eight hours of driving for nothing.

Anyway, it snowed for at least 1/3 of the trip to pick up my folks.  Figured it would.  May doesn't guarantee good weather, travelling over the mountain passes. I counted 3 vehicles in the ditch on the way there.....one massive accident on the way back. Lucky for me it was on the opposite side of the highway both times.....lineups were close to several hours, I am sure. I don't know whether the person in the last crash survived. My guess would be no. The ambulance wasn't in a rush to get anywhere. The vehicle was pretty well flattened and missing parts. How could I tell that it was serious you say? I make it a habit not to rubberneck while driving down the freeway, but one wheel was in the inside lane on my side of the road. \This is just what I took in - in the 3 seconds it took to get past the scene......

I was so traumatized by the trip that when I stopped at Jysk to buy some drapes and a cabinet ...after purchase made, I forgot to go around the back of the store to shipping and pick up the cabinet. I only remembered it 30 minutes from home and at that point I wasn't going to drive the 350 kms round trip and wait in that 10 mile long lineup of cars due to that accident  when I also had a night shift to work that night.

I guess I will have to wait to pick it up with my next segment of daughterly duty -  I go back in a week to help Mom out at home when discharged.

I hope it doesn't snow.

[I was lucky enough to have saved the comments on this one!]

Posted by A NURSE at 1:17 AM

4 comments:

nurseXY said...

Holy smokes, coed rooms??

That's nuts!

May 8, 2010 4:29 PM

A NURSE said...

Ya. Co-ed....they have been doing that at various hospitals for at least 20 years that I know of....in a way it is ok, saves a lot of the moving of beds etc and the ensuing back troubles on one hand - never mind the shortage of either "male" or "female" beds on a unit. No one seems to mind. It just takes getting used to. Splits up the old women so they don't get together and complain so much. ;)

May 8, 2010 10:42 PM

Albinoblackbear said...

Hey--sorry to post a comment that is unrelated to your post--but I thought I'd just pass on...I used the new templates in blogger 'draft' (if you go to http://buzz.blogger.com/ you'll see them).

Before you start tinkering just go into your customize part (in the edit html) and there is a button that says 'download template' and then you'll have a backup copy of your original just in case.

I was wrestling with the photo size as well and since I am no computer nerd the best way I found to fix it was just to crop (on my iphoto) one of my scenic shots into a narrow panorama-type and then upload that version of the pic.

Hope that helps and good luck! :)

May 9, 2010 1:00 AM

Albinoblackbear said...

I forgot to mention--I am glad to hear that your mom recovered well from her surgery. You parents sound like they have true grit! :)
May 9, 2010 1:07 AM

Nurse, Heal Thyself

So I get an email from my best friend who is also an RN (we were neighbors at age 10 -45 years ago! ) and she is all pissy because.... why didn't I blog about "our" experience in the local ER......meaning - why didn't I spill my guts about my visit with my gallstones while she flitted around being the social butterfly in ER while I was writhing around in pain?

Ok- so I exaggerate - but it makes for an interesting story....and my friend loves a good story. We have a habit of rating our stories - 0 to 10 - how good was it???...so we have gotten to be fairly good storytellers.

 So here goes.  And.   Just to warn you in advance.... I have to drive to the interior tomorrow to care for my mom post operative hip replacement.....do the " nurse" thing to ensure she makes it through her hospital surgery.... so I won't be online for a couple days.

I am sure I will have stories when I return.

So last year about this time I was having severe upper GI type pain. Being an RN what is the first thing one does? Yup. Denial. Ok.  This is indigestion.  It will go away.....This must have gone on - oh, say...for a month or so before it got so bad I was scaring myself into thinking I might even be having a heart attack. I ended up working my shifts scheduled, taking frequent breaks, which is - believe it or not - encouraged in my line of nursing work. It actually is a really nice job. I almost hate not to work.

Anyway....I called up my Nurse Girlfriend (I will call her Jan for short), who was an ER RN since the age of dinosaurs just like me......and together, over the phone, we tried to figure out the source of the pain.   I had already tried Tagamet, Mersyndol, Gravol(Dramamine for you Americans out there!), Peptobismol, Mylanta....you name it. Anything I had in my medicine cabinet, I tried. Jan suggested a "pink lady". So, I did some bartending moves with my stashed lidocaine from a previous tattoo (will tell you about that later) and made myself a pink lady. Nope. Still had pain.

What to do next?

Jan suggested Pariet. She "just happened" to have some leftover......could I drive over and get it? (I know what you are thinking at this point....here are 2 RNs breaking every rule...) I was thinking, the last thing I really wanna do is get in my car and drive anywhere.   But - since she was nice enough to offer...I thought I had might as well take her up on it - and what the heck - help myself to anything else in her medicine cabinet – I felt like I was gonna die anyway. Anything to get rid of the pain at this point. And anything to stay away from ER.    I reasoned, if the pain got so much worse, her house was on the way to the hospital and I could easily make a quick detour. No problem.

Don't worry honey, I told my husband, I will be back in a few minutes.....no,no,no...really. You don't need to drive me....I'm ok..... what was I thinking??

I think that night was the worst in my life. Not only did I try the pariet, but also the Ondansetron Jan gave me ($50 per pill) - and by morning I was a wreck. No relief. There was nothing left to do but visit the Dreaded Hospital. Jan had worked in that very hospital for - what - thirty some odd million years....and none of the stories I heard her tell were very good.   I figured at this point I was as good as dead.

Jan offered to come with me to ER to sit with me and make the visit a little "easier" on me, because she stated that she knew "everybody " there - like that was supposed to help. So...I drove over to Jan's and her husband dropped the two of us off in ER and I checked in. I guess I didn't show my actual pain level very well because for the next 4 hours I sat and watched people who walked in the door after me admitted to an ER cubicle with waay less urgent symptoms than myself (how did I know this? Jan did a little Q&A triage around the room, much to my chagrin).

Funny how, as a nurse, you tend to assess people and triage them......which at this point wasn't helpful to my situation at all.   Jan actually knew most of the people in ER waiting to be seen ( ya don't live in the same town for 30 plus years and NOT know half the town) so she was busy  visiting - with a clandestine motive of course - finding out what the others were there for,   and what were their symptoms - all the questions - then proceeds to tell me how she thought I should be going in waaaaaaaaay before all the others.....maybe she just did that to make me feel better. Anyhoo.

By the 5th hour I hadn't improved. I told Jan....ya know....I actually have chest pain....and we both gave each other that deer-in-the-headlights look, knowing full well what that meant in an ER. I neglected to mention this little fact on admission.....what with the pain I was having abdominally .... and now how stupid would I look telling them at this juncture. I complain about my patients that I triage doing the same thing.   I could already see them rolling their eyeballs ........whispering and pointing....."ya know that nurse sitting over there on that stretcher.....????"

When I finally got a stretcher (last patient in the waiting room) I whispered quietly to the RN...I hate to tell you this, but I have chest pain as well.... to which Jan volunteers to the whole room, "Ya and she's had it all along but didn't want to say anything because we thought you would think we were trying to line jump".

 Great. Just what friends are for.

So in comes the 12 lead lines, the MD, the lab tech, the IV and the whole flurry of activity that ensues when someone whispers *chest pain*. Honestly, I really don't think it is cardiac, doc....we told them of everything we had tried so far - every last concoction.

 At least we eliminated other things they would have tried and sent me home with.

When cardiac was ruled out (see, I knew it wasn't) I was shipped off to u/s and a scan was done of my gallbladder and other corresponding parts. While my friend flitted about socializing, I got the news from the ER doc. "You are the healthiest looking pancreatitis I have ever seen......" I guess all he usually sees is an assortment of alcoholics and druggies and such......not your average walky-talky-generally-healthy local nurse.....

I was discharged with a requisition for a CT scan in the next couple days plus all my ER workup and ER doc/nurse notes and an RX for buscopan – which didn’t work. I remember thinking, it couldn't be pancreatitis. It's probably my gallbladder......  of course I was right.  My surgeon confirmed it.

I was due to take a trip to Hawaii the following week and the last thing I wanted to have happen was end up in an ER in Hawaii with the same thing. Should I cancel? Should I go? What would be the worst thing to happen? I was fully covered, not only with my insurance from work and my husband’s insurance - but also extra travel insurance....I could even have pre-existing illness and still have full coverage.   Deluxe coverage, in fact, according to the nice lady on the phone at Blue Cross who gave her advice -  Better to be in pain under a palm tree on a beach rather than at home. So I went. I am happy to say, I only had 2 bouts of pain and they were nowhere near what I had experienced at home, and it didn't even require a hospital or MD visit.

Having got that trip under my belt, my husband and I decided we also take a chance on my health and go for a trip to Washington State to visit his family for Easter. This trip didn't go as well. Second day there I developed severe abdominal pain again.....AND chest pain.... so half way through my husband's golf game I called him and told him to come and get me and take me to ER.

I have to say, my experience in an American ER was quite satisfying. This time I admitted to the gals at the desk that I had chest pain too - "but don't worry - it isn't cardiac...." I tried to reassure them. Actually, an aide at the entrance noticed me clutching my chest as I came into ER, so already had a wheelchair ready for me. She anxiously paused with me at the Receptionist desk, where I took several minutes to hand over my 4 different medical insurance cards, explaining each, and assuring them that some or all would cover absolutely anything they could throw at me.

 I had a very pleasant MD and RN and a very sweet student nurse. The student nurse successfully slipped in an IV - but not without a fountain of blood all over. I tried to encourage her the entire time by informing her "you'll have no problem - I have really good veins...that's ok...we all do that the first time...." I could still see her nervous tremor..... and read her mind..." Nurses are the worst patients...."

Two rounds of dilaudid later........no relief.   I worried to my husband - they're gonna think I am a junkie or something if I tell them it didn't work. For this very reason I had copies of my Canadian ER visit....dx, bloodwork and all (little did I realize that might make them even more suspicious)

I guess they thought I was not your usual drug-seeker - because  I got a chaser of IV morphine......and YAY. Relief. Whoo hoo. Now, can I get this thing outta my arm? I apologised profusely to the nurse who put the IV in - for getting better so quick. By the way, I loved the emesis bag they gave me (much better than those darn chip trays that patients tend to overshoot) and since I didn't have to use it .....I saved it for the ride home, and later took it with me when I eventually had my surgery.

I was given a script for oxycodone - 25 tabs. A little excessive, I thought, but ya never know when this pain might strike again before I get back up to Canada.  

The CT scan that I finally had done confirmed gallstones. What with my pain history, I couldn't postpone the inevitable.

I was thinking about the cholecystectomies that I had looked after back in the 80s when I worked on the Surgical unit. They were sliced and diced from front to side to back, HUGE incisions with T-tubes draining and penrose drains with ostomy bags over them, or drains down to bags or bottles and NG tubes for several days. Hospital stays were usually several weeks not the daycare surgery with 3 tiny puncture wounds it is now.

If I was ever grateful for something, I was surely grateful that my gallbladder acted up in the 21st century and NOT when I was working surgical back in the 1980s!

I will keep this entry short.

Suffice to say I had a great experience as a patient in the "hospital of horrors". Funny thing though. After the fact, I kept getting comments from people about the phone calls I made immediately post op from my stretcher in daycare recovery. Apparently I called up and babbled on and on to my several cousins, friends, mother, mother-in-law and God knows who else.

I chastised my husband, "Couldn't you have at least stopped me???" uh. He thought I was totally aware of what I was doing.

Much later, my husband mentioned the male nurse that looked after me in daycare after surgery. "What male nurse?" I inquired with trepidation.

 "You know, the one you told all about your work in California, and your experiences in the delivery room, and don't you remember showing him your puke bag you got from your American ER visit......"

 I was horrified.

"Ya...." he continued ".....you were talking just normal - just like you are doing right now......"

I NEVER want to be a patient again. EVER.

And Jan, if I ever call you again about any aches and pains......just euthanized me right then and there.

Please.

Nurse, Call Thyself Patient #1:

Aug 8/2010  -  OOPS. Forgot the original blog posting from APRIL 27TH that got me blogging about my own experiences as a hospital patient. I injured my wrist at work in April and it took me 5 hours to create the following post, so I don't want to delete it. One-handed-Finger-pecking is work! By the way, I am fully recovered, thank you very much:

A blog entry usually takes me only a few minutes...after all, all of my nursing "paperwork" involves the computer keyboard - and I am now fairly proficient at 65 wpm. This entry, I swear, I am typing maybe .125 wpm ...finger pecking with my left hand is NOT very efficient....you have no idea.....

Yesterday @ work, when finishing up a client's file, a sudden "snapping" type pain zapped my wrist.

 "CRAP!" I yelled.

Normally, I work from home, but today was an office day, so the Supervisor who heard my scream from across the building, came to investigate who died.

After icing my wrist, anti-inflammatorizing myself and filling out the ensuing paperwork, I was sent home...to see an MD.

Three walk-in clinics later (the first 2 were too busy and weren't accepting any more patients for that day) I finally drove the hour home to the clinic near my house where I was surprised to find that I was only ONE of TWO patients!!

WOOO-HOO!!!! That NEVER happens! That alone deserves a post!

Let me interject here that we moved to this community 4 years ago, and because of the MD shortage (well, generally there is a shortage here in Canada of ALL medical personnel) I can't get an MD in my own community...so I keep my Family MD who's office is 1.25 hr's drive away and just use my own triage skills and utilize the local walk-in clinic if only absolutely necessary.

The lineups are usually horrific - but - Miracle! I was seen within 10 minutes!!!

Wow.

That must be some kind of record...duly noted.

The kind doc examined my swollen wrist and diagnosed "tendonitis" (Incorrect dx btw...but he was an ancient prison doc..what can I say?). Thought it was something to do with my wrist, but the Compensation Kingpins demands that someone with an "MD" after their name says so on their paperwork.

SO - I am supposed to TOTALLY rest my wrist. This means not only NO WORK for a week, but NO COMPUTER keyboarding - TOTAL REST OF MY RIGHT WRIST..........WTFlip???

No can do.

I am a computer junkie. I got my first computer in 1995 and haven't looked back!

I even met my husband online (thank-you yahoo!) ....how am I supposed to survive??!?


I now have my R wrist wrapped with a tensor bandage (that's Ace wrap to you American nurses!) with my thumb immobilized per MD advice....and I am painstakingly finger picking with my left hand. Tedious to say the least.


This MD visit/injury thing takes me back to all the times in the past that I have been a patient myself.

I had my tonsils out at age 31. If you have ever looked after a post op tonsillectomy ...you might think ....no big deal. Let me tell you, if you are going to have a T&A performed (and by the way, why is it when I am looking for photo illustrations-they are ALL of little kids?) - I can't stress enough - HAVE IT DONE WHEN YOU ARE YOUNG.

I don't think I am a big baby. OK....well, I am a little needle phobic. I've already admitted that.

Several times.

And YES, I know that nurses make the worst patients, but IT HURTS. Months later. And whatever you do, drink WARM beverages - NOT cold.

Cold creates unbelievable painful spasms in the throat. Ice cream and Popsicles post op are for kids.

Take my word for it.

If your adult T&A patient is carrying on a little excessively - take it from me - they aren't kidding....and they aren't drug seeking when they ask you for something to kill the pain.

Funny thinking back on that hospital stay. Hmmmm. Here's a thought.

I should reminisce a little on my own experiences on the receiving end of my hospital stay (and thus the #2 blog below) ....but - tomorrow. This teensy little blog entry has taken me a whole flippin' 5 hours...........and I am exhausted and frustrated.

Besides, it's ice and ibuprofen time......maybe I'll have a little Baileys with that ice......and continue tomorrow...... *cough cough*

...a little bit of medicine won't hurt.....will it? ;)