Category Archives: Health

Friendship Lost

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Wow, it’s been over a year since I last posted in this blog!

Well, the good news is that I am back and after a long year of therapy, I am in a better place. Anyone who knows me, knows I have been through the wringer the last couple of years. Therapy has helped me separate myself from the actions of others and to not carry blame or guilt that is not mine to carry. I have learned to distance myself from things and people who expect more from me than I have to give. I have learned that I don’t have to help everyone. It’s not my job! I can’t help someone who won’t help themselves…which brings me to the subject of this post.

I had been trying for a very long time to get a friend of mine to get some help for her depression, whether it be a medical doctor or a therapist. She always responded with, “You’re the only therapist I need,” and other such statements. I’m not a therapist. I can’t help her with her depression. I was going through my own bouts of depression. I could listen, sure. But after every conversation, I would be exhausted, totally wiped out. I often wondered if this was normal in a friendship. Deep down I knew it wasn’t, but she was my friend. What was I suppose to do? I fought with myself daily! I tried to tell her that I was going through some things that I couldn’t talk about. I told her many times that I was having a hard time myself and that I couldn’t handle her problems AND my own. It didn’t seem to sink in. It didn’t seem to matter. She would dump everything on me and it would suck every ounce of my energy! Don’t get me wrong, I KNOW she has every reason to be depressed. She’s been through some horrible events over the past few years. I feel for her. But I want her to get some help.

Therapy helped me to realize that it’s not my job to take care of her (or anyone else) and that if she’s not willing to help herself then what else can I do? I had to tell her. I tried my best to explain. I told her I couldn’t help her and she had to help herself. I told her I had to distance myself from her until she got help for her depression. That went over like a fart in Church.

Immediately, she went on the defensive. I expected that. I also understood. She was hurt. I knew that it would hurt her but I was taking care of ME, something that I had not done in many years. I always put myself on the back burner. Not anymore. I was done.

What I didn’t expect, was that she would take this to the extreme. She blocked me on Facebook and THEN called me a hypocrite for talking about her behind her back. (Who blocked whom and then started talking trash about the other? Not me.) She made up lies and told half-truths about me and my family. She showed her true colors. She doesn’t know that I know what she said, but since I DO know, we will never be friends again. How can she be trusted?

She said I was throwing away our friendship because she has a disease called depression. It’s not the depression itself; it’s her inability or unwillingness to get help. I didn’t throw away the friendship. I put it on the back burner, instead of my own needs…. for once. She threw away our friendship when she gave me a bashing on Facebook.

This friendship has weighed so heavily on me for years because I couldn’t help her. If I didn’t care so much, then none of this would have been an issue. I did what I had to do to protect myself and it was my last-ditch effort to get her to do something. I hoped that it would jolt her into realizing she needs to take care of herself. I guess it was wishful thinking…but it’s her issue, not mine.

I’m Still Here….

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I had worried about having gallbladder surgery for the past month. I worried that something would go wrong. This inspired me to clean out closets, drawers, cabinets etc. I threw away a lot of crap that I had accumulated over the years. Such clutter. I didn’t want to leave such a mess for my family to have to deal with if something went wrong during surgery. I had voiced my concerns with close friends and family. They all told me “Don’t worry,” “Everything’s going to be ok,” “You’re going to get through this,” “Nothing’s going to happen to you,” etc. Deep down I knew they were right but you just never know when something might go wrong. I wanted to have things in order just in case.

I wrote letters to my children, my Dad, my sisters and a few close friends. Letters to be opened only in case of my death or in the event that I couldn’t speak for myself. These letters were hard for me to write but I did it. I wanted them to know how important they are to me. I couldn’t assume they knew. Sometimes we get so busy with life, we tend to not say things we should and sometimes we say things we shouldn’t. I wanted the last words from me to them to be what was in the letters.

I also made lists of things like internet accounts, bank accounts, etc., so that my family would know what needed to be done and how. I made a list of certain belongings that I wanted my family members to have. I made a list of special requests if I end up in a nursing home. Yes. I did that.

I know, it sounds ridiculous now but I really was worried about leaving my family behind.

My Dad and my son accompanied me to the hospital and I kept it together quite well. I didn’t want them to see how scared I was. They were with me up until I was moved into surgical waiting.

 

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Image Copyright Being Aunt Debbie

 

The surgeon was about an hour behind. This led to even more stress and I could hardly wait for them to give me that sedative they had promised! When they did, I felt some relief, but it wasn’t as great as they said it would be. I was rather disappointed! When Paula, the surgical nurse came to see me, I had to go to the bathroom so she helped me wrap a blanket around me because my giant butt was peering out the back of that very fashionable hospital gown. Then she walked me to the bathroom with my IV bag in one hand and the other across the small of my back. She was very nice, as were all the other nurses, but she was my favorite of them all.

 

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Image Copyright Being Aunt Debbie

 

After I finished my business in the bathroom, Paula walked me back to my bed and then rolled me out of surgical waiting, through a set of closed doors and down a long corridor. I thought of the song Hotel California by the Eagles. Maybe I would never leave this place.

The operating room was freezing and everything was huge and sparkling clean. Paula helped me onto the thin, metal operating table. She put warm blankets over me. I farted. I thought to myself, “Oh my God, the surgeon is going to be so distracted by my bodily functions he’s not going to do it right!” Paula got my blood pressure cuff settled on one arm and a finger probe on the opposite hand. The anesthesiologist, Dr. Flock, came in and put probes on my chest. His name struck me as funny and I tried not to laugh but all I could think of was my Dad being silly. I know Dad would have jokingly said, “Get the flock out of here.” Paula strapped my arms down and also placed a strap across my upper legs. I was really scared at this point. Dr. Flock said he was giving me something in my IV bag (I don’t remember if he told me what it was) and that I would feel warm and sleepy soon. He put a mask over my face and told me to breathe deeply. I started to cry. Paula comforted me and I said something that I can’t remember now. My voice was very low and slow…

As my lights went out, Paula wiped a tear from my cheek and said, “It’s going to be ok.” THAT was the last thing I remember and all I can say is that Paula is a very, very special person.

Sick & Sorry

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Lacking just the right words for a title for this entry. The closest I can come to it is Sick & Sorry. I’ve been sick for 4 days now. Running a low grade fever off and on, coughing, sneezing, slight headache. I’m constantly on the go. I’m always expected to be someone’s caregiver in some way or another. I try to do what I can to help my family and extended family. I try to be there for the people I care about, friends included. BUT it’s time for me to slow down and take some time to take care of me. Along with the severe arthritis pain in my lower extremities and spine, I have a head cold that doesn’t seem to be getting better. I’m trying to rest, drink lots of fluids and take care of me for a change. This just doesn’t seem to sit well with some people though. For some reason they feel they have been let down; disappointed in some way. Is it too much to ask for a few days to get well? I’m sorry I’m human. I get sick; not often but it does happen. After many harsh words being said, I’m left feeling like the bad guy, like I’m the one at fault…and for what? For not being able to do what someone else wants me to do. For being sick and trying to take it easy. Forgive me for being human. I’ll try not to let it happen again.

The Joy of a Little Walk

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I’m feeling better than I have in months! My doc gave me a new anti-inflammatory, plus a rescue drug for those days when I have severe pain, and just after one dose of the anti-inflammatory I could feel the difference! I am on Day 4 now and I am thrilled to have some mobility back. (Refer to The Enemy I Must Face for the story of my condition.)

I took a walk last night. It wasn’t a long one, but it was a start. It was smooth walking for the most part and I enjoyed the mild heat and the green all around me. (We have trails on our property so I don’t have to actually go anywhere.) I looked up and watched the birds as they flew over and smacked at a few little flying pests flitting about my face. Even that annoyance didn’t bother me because I was enjoying being able to walk with very little pain! With any luck, this new medication will continue to “do it’s thing” so that I can walk most evenings.

I continue to do my water exercises, which feel wonderful! I am “riding my bicycle” (stationary peddler) every day and I found a DVD of Yoga for Arthritis. I’m not sure I can do many of the poses, but I will do a few now and again, in hopes that I will regain strength after some time and be able to add more. My dietary changes, well….I keep goofing up, however doc said I had lost 20 lbs. so I must’ve done something right!

One day and one walk at a time…..I shall persevere.

WARNING: Some Doctors Are Hazardous To Your Health

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I went to a doctor a couple weeks ago and really got nowhere in terms of pain relief. I left wondering “What the heck was I thinking going to this guy?” But how would I have known he was a jerk, since I had never met him before? Now I know.

My records actually made it from the orthopedic doc’s office to “jerk” doc’s office. I didn’t have too long of a wait before being called back or before the doc actually came in. I was surprised about that! The nurse took down all my vital information before telling me the doc looked like Santa Claus and that he was easy to talk to. Then she left the room.

Now, don’t get me wrong – I didn’t DISagree with everything this doc told me. I just don’t like his bedside manner and his knowledge, or lack of knowledge would be more accurate. He first told me I needed to lose weight. I know this. I’ve been struggling with my weight since my first child was born and wasn’t diagnosed with hypothyroidism until my youngest child was 3. I’ve been on meds for all this time and granted sometimes I don’t eat right, but even when I have consciously made an effort to lose weight, nothing happens. I had lost some weight recently though and I am still working on it. Doc proceeded to tell me I need more exercise. REALLY? And how does he think I’m going to do that when I am in extreme pain 24/7? He told me I need to eat a low fat diet. He asked me what do I eat for breakfast? I told him I normally don’t have breakfast. He snipped at me, “You really should eat breakfast; even if it’s just a piece of sausage or bacon!” WAIT. WHAT? Didn’t he just tell me to eat a low fat diet?

Because of my response to the exercise suggestion, he next asked me what I was taking for pain. I told him I had tried all the OTC pain relievers and the only one that helped a little was Aleve (Naproxen Sodium). I told him I didn’t like taking it all the time. He asked me why and I told him I didn’t like the Increased Risk of Heart Attack and Stroke that accompanies this drug. I could hear in his voice how shocked he was at my statement. He said to me in a tone that I didn’t like, “Where the heck did you hear that?” I told him since I had found out I had arthritis I’ve been doing research and all my sources said the same thing. He said he had never heard that. He said that Naproxen Sodium was the drug of choice for arthritis pain. He looked me straight in the eye and told me I was WRONG. Then he told me that I must have it confused with Avandia, which is a medication for diabetes type 2. He said that Avandia may be pulled from the market for the same thing. I knew it wasn’t Avandia because I wasn’t researching diabetes medications. I was researching arthritis and arthritis pain relievers. I told him that ALL of the NSAIDS have the same warning. He sat there and flat out told me I was wrong, again, and that I must have Avandia and Aleve confused, after all they start with the same letter. Give me a break! Ok, I’m not the most intelligent person in the world but I am not stupid and I was very resentful of his tone as well as his assumption that I must be stupid. Now, I don’t mind a few side effects. I know I may not have all the side effects, heck, I may not have any of them. However, I DO mind life threatening warnings.

Now, even though I was uncomfortable taking this medication, he prescribed it anyway! At this point I was just fed up and wanted out of there. But before I left I decided to test him. In my research I had learned that the only way to rule out rheumatoid arthritis is to run a specific test. I asked him, “What kind of arthritis do I have?” He proceeded to tell me the difference between rheumatoid arthritis and osteoarthritis. I was fuming. I already know the difference because I researched it. I told him very sternly, “You didn’t answer my question. What kind of arthritis do I have?” Then he told me it was osteoarthritis. I asked, “How can you tell that just by looking at me and my records?” He told me it was because I don’t have the typical curling deformity of the fingers that accompany rheumatoid arthritis. Can’t people have RA without having it advanced to that degree? I’m disgusted at this point and I really want to kick him in the balls. He didn’t run any tests, nor did the orthopedic doctor. He could be absolutely right in saying that I have osteoarthritis but his bedside manner leaves a lot to be desired. IMHO, he is making an assumption without doing tests. Experience? Perhaps. Laziness? Perhaps. Arrogance? Perhaps. Probably all three.

Here’s the icing on the cake: I was desperate for pain relief so I got the prescription filled. Along with the medication comes a few pages worth of drug information; side effects, how to take the medication, what to report to doctor, etc., etc. But the very first line of one page reads WARNING: MAY INCREASE RISK OF HEART ATTACK & STROKE.

So Doc, I was wrong huh? Maybe you’d better do some research of your own. I am sending a copy of this drug information page to him in hopes that he will do just that.