I'm Not Alone.....

So many things have been so strange about this summer.  Two things have made me stop and reflect and be thankful for what I have in the midst of uncertainty and pain and fear.

I had my first real panic attack the first night I was in the hospital - real panic attack.  Up to this point I have had high anxiety - crazy high anxiety attacks, extreme hormonal paranoid moments - don't we all at some point in our lives?  But on the first night at the hospital, before the doctors were able to set and regulate my pain level with the needed amount of pain killer, I had my first (and so far only) actual, physical panic attack.

The doctors discovered after 2 1/2 doses or Morphene in my 5 hour stay in emergency, that I needed something a little more 'potent' for pain.  They switched to Dilaudid. I was in extreme pain by that first night - of course, my appendix had burst or was bursting - and by 10pm I was shaking violently going back and forth between sweating and chills.  It was then that my nurse (Scott - really great) announced that he wasn't going to be able to give me any more pain meds for an hour!  An hour!  I was NOT going to be able to make it another hour.  He apologized and said that he would contact the doctor.

He left the room, and almost immediately I felt like someone had stepped on my windpipe.  I could not breathe - I sat up and ordered John to call Scott back.

John:  Hey, Scott, Brenda said that she doesn't -----
Brenda:  I CAN'T BREATHE!!  I CAN'T BREATHE!!

In that moment, I thought I was going to suffocate.  I was sweating and gasping....Scott came back immediately and asked if I'd ever had a panic attack.  I said no, and he started coaching me to breathe more deeply and try to relax.  I knew that I had to try and do what he said.  During all of this - oh, probably 10 - 15 minutes which felt like a lifetime -  he was able to get a hold of the doctor and they changed my pain meds to every 3 hours.  In addition, he gave me a dose of phenergan (anti-nausea) and 10mg of Ambien.

Did it work? John said that I fell asleep mid-sentence so quickly, he stayed up for several hours checking to be sure that I was breathing.


And I'm pretty sure that that frightening experience (still very vivid in my mind) added to my realization that no matter how sick I was, how much pain I was in, and how crazy weird it was that my appendix burst - at least I was never alone....


I began the last few days that I was in the hospital walking laps on my floor every night - you know, that they always want you to get up and walk around, do things for yourself before you go home, have a healthy bowel movement (well, they do!).  One night I saw a small, frail looking woman in her room alone eating her dinner.  I wondered if she had anyone who came to see her.  Then later when I was walking laps with John, we passed her in the hall.  She was also walking laps......alone.  She looked so frail, I was surprised that she could hold herself up - she did have her IV pole for suppport.  I smiled at her as we passed; she had dark circles under her eyes, her dark, dull hair pulled back into a pony tail making her face even more gaunt and thin looking - she did not return my smile.


She has been in my thoughts since then...A tall, black gentleman has also been in my thoughts since the day I left the hospital.

My discharge from the hospital was hurried - I had to get to a doctor's office to get my IV meds before they closed at 5pm.  I could not leave and come back, they could not come to the office, so I had to sign papers and leave within 45 minutes of thinking that I was actually going to stay for another night....I didn't even have street clothes with me.  I had to wear two hospitals gowns - one backwards so that I didn't feel quite so naked.


A tech wheeled me out the front door where Peter was pulling up with the Expedition.  He couldn't pull up immediately because there was a taxi in front of him, and he wasn't sure if he should go around it......John motioned for him to pull around and up to me so that we could get to the doctor's office.  I glanced in the direction of the taxi and realized that there with a nurse was a tall black man alone getting into the taxi.  In that moment I realized that no matter how terrible I felt - that I wasn't alone.  I felt such sorrow for this man and so many like him who go through the 'mess' of life alone......for whatever reason - it doesn't matter....what matters is that they're alone.


And surely I can do something about that.......

More Hospital Thoughts.....

One of my most interesting experiences during my hospital stay was the nursing staff - it's amazing (although I guess it shouldn't be) how many different ways there are to do the same tasks.....and how some of my most immediate initial perceptions of some of my nurses were so wrong.  (the hospital staff: nurses, doctors, techs, housekeeping and the cafeteria were really wonderful!!!)

I was at the hospital for 28 nursing shifts - 3 nurses during those shifts I had multiple times.  In addition, there was a charge nurse for each of those shifts.  With only 1 horrible, miserable exception, these people were fabulous!!  A few of them surprising and changing my initial reaction to them......creating a great sense of calm in me because of the confidence they engendered!

"Ditzy, cheerleader nurse" - Maggie (Margaurite), blonde hair, polished makeup, really beautiful diamond ring and bracelets, actually turned out to be the mother of 5 - 24, 22, 18, 4 and 2.  All of whom she smilingly informed me were hers and her one husband!!  Instead of injecting my meds into the IV port closest to my arm which every time seemed to momentarily shock my system, she injected them further up the IV line allowing them to dilute some before entering my system. (Clever - who would have thought of that!)

"Asian man who called me Miss Brenda" - Gleeson, short, very polite asian gentleman whom I thought would be cold and unresponsive, actually ended up being my favorite nurse.  He was quick, efficient, thorough and passionately loyal to his patients - at least that's how he came across to me every time he was there!  He was the charge nurse for the shift that I had to get Potassium straight into my arm.  I had a severe reaction to it causing my right arm to swell up and bruise a lot.  My nurse that day was Jackie (really groovy woman with a beautiful smile), and she and Gleeson immediately contacted the doctor to get permission for me to take the Potassium in tablets.

"Short Indian woman, thick accent" - Miss Abraham, her accent was very thick and I feared that there would be lots of miscommunication that day and that she would be very impersonal.  IRL :) - she was very, very compassionate, mothering, exceptionally professional with a great sense of humor.  She was also the charge nurse for 2 of those 28 shifts and my day nurse for 2.  She was the charge nurse that I told about my one terrible nursing shift experience.  She and my nurse that day knew immediately who I was talking about and assured me that he would never be one of my nurses - and they were right!

I hate that I can't remember some of the nurses that I had in those first few days because I was so sick and 'out of it' most of the time.  And, btw, if you haven't had blood taken very often, you'd be amazed at how much skill is involved in finding a vein and drawing a little blood - I was so glad that most of the lab staff at the hospital was very skilled!

Also, do you think all phlebotomists are vampires?? Otherwise, why do they have to come so damn early to take your blood!!!

Poop, Pus and Pudding! (you know I had to :)

This Friday will mark 5 weeks since my release from what is my current most surreal experience - burst appendix that caused a 2 weeks hospital stay.  It's one of those illnesses/ topics that are occasionally discussed but most of us never, ever, ever think will happen to us.

And, of course, as with most things these days, some thoughts occurred to me.......just to set the right mood, I thought I'd start with the grossest - I mean, really, it can only go up from there, right?

Do you realize that what most of us consider juvenile, impolite topics for conversation, (poop, diarrhea, nausea, vomiting and peeing) are actually some of the favorite for discussion between patients and their doctors?  In fact, the topics border on obsessive and are involved in almost every procedure for which a person can be admitted to the hospital.  So, I'm thinking, if more of us were talking about it in the open maybe less of us would be having issues with it in private!!

As noted in my previous blog, my appendix is slightly out of normal placement.  Because of this my doctors were stumped for the first four days of my hospital stay.  The doctor who will be my appendectomy surgeon came into my room every day for those first 4 days shaking his head apologizing because no one could figure out what was wrong with me. Day 5 the doctors decided to do a 2nd cat scan - this one revealed bubbles - and they diagnosed Perforated Diverticulitis.  Diverticulitis is a condition where there are little pockets of pus on the inside of your colon wall - and is a common condition especially among Americans. Perforated Diverticulitis happens when one or more of those pus pockets gets something hung up on it and bursts open leaking pus and infection into your abdomen. Not a very attractive condition, eh?

My doctors began talking about immediate surgery while trying to get my white blood cell count to lower.  However, over the weekend the 'sub' for my surgeon suggested that instead of surgery, I could have drain tubes inserted into my abdomen to drain away the pus and infection pockets that they could see - 3 of them. This might actually cure me and I could avoid surgery.  What did I think? O-o-okay....

So, I was scheduled for a very early in the morning 3rd cat scan so that the Radiologist would know exactly where to put the drains.  My surgeon came in after that to describe the drain procedure and then left telling me he would be back later in the day to check on me.  He was actually back within 15 minutes - I explained to him that I had not had time to have the drain procedure yet :) - with a confounded look telling me that while I was still having the procedure, it was now to drain abscesses that had occurred as a result of my appendix rupturing not PD.  The Radiologist upon a closer inspection and after calling in a second Radiologist realized that something he had seen in/ on my appendix in the the first cat scan was not there now in this 3rd cat scan.  The conclusion - a hole (rupture) had developed and released it.  Voila!  Ruptured appendix!

It must be noted that I am always amazed at the ordinary things in our world (cheese squares, headphones, 'Indiana' brand popcorn, straws at fast food restaurants, DVD's, etc.) that are packaged in high security packaging - you know, packaging that usually requires scissors or a screw driver or very big knife.  (I'm not kidding about the popcorn by the way.  Buy a bag of INDIANA POPCORN brand popcorn and just try opening it in your car on the way back home.  Go ahead, I dare you!)  So, it was satisfying at the hospital to FINALLY see items packaged in high security packaging that actually need it: medicines, IV solutions, needles, sterilizing supplies, etc.

One final thought - the yummiest one - and strangely enough, related to the first thought of this blog: chocolate pudding is considered a soft, intermediate food in the hospital.  And sweet iced tea is a clear beverage.  That means that even if you're on a clear liquids only diet - you can have sweet tea!  And, when the doctors are progressively re-introducing solid food back into your diet, you get pudding - chocolate pudding!! 

In addition, if you're very nice to your hospital food staff, you can get extra glasses of said sweet tea.....'never be rude to the people who serve your food'!!

Totally Cool Happenstance!

It’s been a funky year (surreal summer for sure – more on that later) – and I’ve had to restart my blog on a couple of occasions.....I just seem have lose steam.  However, I so enjoy writing, that I’ve got to ‘restart’ again.  And despite the fact that I do write with an audience in mind, I will continue to write whether a real audience exists or not. J  Which is how it should be anyway, right?

Recently, my appendix burst, and I had an unexpected 14 day hospital visit…now, you need to know that I still have my appendix as of right now.  And that because my appendix is slightly out of placement compared to the average human, it took the doctors 10 days and 3 cat scans to get a correct diagnosis.  I will be having surgery in a few weeks to remove it once my body has had a chance to heal from the serious infections that I had as a result of not knowing what I had.  (lots of ‘had’ in thereJ)

I’ll let you know right up front that the background to the story of this blog will take longer than the story itself!!  But those of you who know me will understand……

I was admitted on a Friday and released two weeks later.  That first Friday and Saturday, I could only have sips of water.  My white blood cell was high, but started to come down.  So, on Sunday and Monday, I was allowed to have soft foods.  My white blood cell count went back up.  Therefore, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday, I was back to only sips of water.  My white blood cell count came down again and stayed down.  So, I was allowed soft foods again.  The wbc count stayed down, I was ‘fitted’ with two drains and it was decided that I could begin to have ‘real’ food – something more than cream of wheat and bouillon cubes dissolved in water.  (I recall one bouillon cube meal when I could have sworn that they forgot the cube!)

And here’s the exciting point of the whole story: my first real food meal in the hospital………da da da dah………Meatloaf and Scalloped Potatoes!  Disappointed?  Well, you shouldn’t be!  My favorite meal, the one I have always requested for my birthday (even as a child), the one I fix for myself on my birthday and had to make my children eat when they were growing up (despite the fact that they hate it), the one that a few years ago I found a great variation for is none other than Meatloaf and Scalloped Potatoes!!!

It's Not Extreme If You're Me!

So, I desperately need to ‘catch up’ on thots!!  I’ve had some of the most eventful last few weeks – and if I don’t get some of the thots/ emotions recorded, I’m going to forget what I’ve learned J  And I certainly don’t want to have to learn some of this shit a second time!

So, after having shoulder surgery on Feb 1^st – I’ve officially been in rehab for 3 weeks.  And it’s a killer – just like Jeffrey Budoff said it would be…..he’s my orthopedic surgeon/ doctor.  He told me that the surgery would be easy compared to the recovery. 

I began Occupational Therapy (OT) – not to be confused with Physical Therapy – on Tuesday, March 20^th.  Basically, it was my check-in appointment.  Brian, my OT, did a basic post-surgery interview and checked my range of movement and flexibility………..which was mucho limited.  He was surprised to find out that my doctor had only assigned a couple of basic, low level exercises up to this point.  He went through a couple of exercises showing me how to do them correctly – even attempting one with a pulley that he decided I wasn’t ready for – and sent me on my way.  It took, oh, about 30 minutes.

So, on Friday, March 23^rd when I returned for my second checkup, I was almost looking forward to it.  And I can say very definitely that it was a stupendously important happenstance that this appointment coincided with John’s ‘Friday off’ day!!!!!!  By the time the appointment was over and Brian had done so much more to my shoulder than I EVER expected – inflicting pain as I’ve never experienced (yes, even in childbirth) - I had hyperventilated, laughed hysterically, cried and almost blacked out.  John was able to assure him that despite my extreme reaction, I was well within the range of ‘normal’ for me.

(I do have to commend Brian – my OT – for his patience and commitment to excellence in his work.  He has never done anything to damage my arm, enduring, in fact, much whining on my part in his effort to give me back full use of my shoulder.  He has a great bed-side manner, is cheerful and encouraging……….did I say all that right, Brian? Or is it Craig?? J)

The following thots occurred to me Wednesday as I was driving to my 4^th OT appointment – and, believe it or not, during the most painful part of my OT that morning.  I was wondering for probably the 37^th time why I had been ‘patientzilla’? What the heck was going on?  Was there still something from my past that I hadn’t dealt with in the past year?  Did I have some extreme fear that I didn’t realize?  Was it just my dramatic nature?  I also got a chance later in the day to discuss the subject with my counselor.  She helped me to confirm that, of course, it was a combination of things.  Part of my reaction was just a normal human response to pain.  Obviously, our body’s instinct is to protect itself against pain.  And so, when Brian was doing some of the new ‘stressing’ (his professional word) on my shoulder – it hurt – and I tensed up and unconsciously fought against what he was doing – causing more pain. Duh!  In addition, because I’ve been ‘on Alert’ protecting myself for most of my life, I have a very difficult time trusting my well-being to someone else.  Hence, my struggle to relax while in pain.

It’s the same thing when you’re in labor…….if a woman can relax in the midst of some of the roughest pain she’ll ever experience, her body can work like it’s supposed, and work more quickly.

The final contributing factor to my ‘edge of the precipice’ therapy experience that day was my expectations.  I ‘expected’ this appointment to be like the first – and it was anything but!  I ‘expected’ that I knew exactly what to expect.  And the fear that I experienced at realizing it wasn’t what I expected, scared the hell out of me.  To be so ‘out of control’ deeply scared me.  What if something worse happened to my shoulder?  For those first few appointments (and every time I would exercise at home on my own), I had visions of my shoulder breaking/ or being broken.  It took every bit of courage within me, to do those exercises at home – and to deal with the hysteria that I felt on those mornings that I knew I would be going in to the clinic. 

However, last Friday, I had a couple of breakthroughs.  One, the most rigorous part of my OT (and the most painful), the part where Brian actually, sort of, pushes my arm back into my shoulder while stretching it as high over my head as he can………….wasn’t.  It occurred to me while he was doing the exercise that it didn’t hurt as badly as it had the last time he did it.  I realized that I wasn’t having to fight against my own body’s desire to ‘fight against’ the therapy – I was actually relaxing……….okay, so it was only .05 percent more relaxing but every little bit helps!  Second, and I think more importantly, I didn’t feel the usual panic inside me, and I wasn’t ‘looking forward’ to the days off between appointments.  Up to that point, one of the ways that I encouraged myself to get through the appointments was to remind myself that I wasn’t going to have to go back for a couple of days. (Nothing personal, Brian!)

So, there you go……….would you expect any less???

Take me, baby, or leave me! :)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MlNzpl3vz5Y  Okay, so the song isn't really directly related to this blog, I just really love it!

One of my goals for this new year was to learn to quiet the voice in my head that said I always had to be performing in order to be valid.  To come to appreciate that I am valuable whether I'm 'doing anything' or not - and by 'anything' I mean a job, chores, projects, assignments, even volunteerism, etc.  It's not been as difficult as it would have been just a year ago - I've changed so much.  I'm so much stronger, more at peace with who I am.  And yet, I had a thought a few days ago.......

I had shoulder surgery on February 1st - and am doing my best to rest at home.  I'm not driving or doing much in the way of housework.  However, I don't know that I'm actually experiencing the freedom of allowing myself to be okay just resting and relaxing - because I am actually 'doing something'.  I'm resting because I've had surgery.  Surgery is my.......safety valve.....I 'have' to rest because it's the only way that I'll get better.  So, I'm not just sitting at home because I'm choosing to pull back and allow myself to not have to work or be busy, I have a reason for sitting at home doing nothing.  I'm recuperating - and the only way to heal, to get better is to sit and rest - to do as little as possible.


I'm still doing a job........(sigh....)  I am getting better at doing it in a more bohemian fashion - that's progress!


I can't wait to start painting.  I had the opportunity to paint at a friend's baby shower: Millie - who joined us outside her mom today!  The concept was a brilliant activity for a baby shower - paint a portion of a picture for the baby's room.  Instead of signing a baby book or writing stupid cards with unwanted advice - we signed a mat board and then painted an image on a canvas.  We could paint whatever we wanted - our message to Millie.  I wanted her to know that her life was an adventure like a great book and that it was beautiful!!


"A Girl Called Millie" by Millie Prophet - and all the people who will ever be a part of her life!!

It was one of the very best baby showers I've ever been to......It was so low key: guests visiting, food, 2 drawings (just bring a package of diapers or wipes to enter) for wine themed gift baskets, sign the matboard, paint something for Millie on the canvas.  And I didn't even realize how special it was until it was over.  All during the party, I kept waiting for some silly party game to begin - actually looking forward to being able to not participate because of my recent surgery. But they never happened!  I really hate those games!


Hang on - I just realized that it was the first baby shower I've ever been to for a friend outside my former religious friend circle.  It was such a celebration of life, of family.  I sat next to a woman pregnant with her fifth - who knitted as if it were second nature.  So many of those religious people in my life who led me to believe that anyone not a christian doesn't believe - can't believe - would NEVER believe in the sanctity of life.  HA!


The more I step away from my religious upbringing the more I see how much pride and arrogance is associated with religion/ fundamentalism.  (small disclaimer: not all religious/ christian people are arrogant and prideful - but more than should be are)  In their effort to speak the 'truth', they become so fixated on themselves and that they carry the truth - they believe their own press - that they're invaluable to the truth getting out, that the people who need the truth must be stupid - otherwise they'd know how much they need the truth - and surely they'd accept it, wouldn't they???  So, those who have the truth have to force/ coerce/ guilt people into accepting/ taking the 'truth'.  They can grow to believe that anyone who doesn't believe the same must believe all kinds of weird, wrong, stupid, horrible, vicious, unloving, selfish, non-godly things.  And any of the previous categories automatically equals ungodly.


So........................every time I now encounter thoughtful, caring, intelligent, non-religious people or people of a different religious background who have obviously made a thoughtful choice about something in their life that is so different from mine and that I've been led to believe is wrong, I'm in awe.  (That is one freaking long introductory clause in that sentence! :)  To quote a movie that I just saw about 2 weeks ago, and that I've discovered has some really profound character depictions: TANGLED, ".....And at last I see the light, and it's like the fog has lifted...."


Don't we usually see truth in the simplest places.......


The mother, of course, is the most profound of the depictions: an expert at using guilt and manipulation on a naive, trusting younger person to further her agenda.  Words like 'betrayal', 'obedience', 'suffer', phrases like 'surely you don't want to.....', 'I mean, I wouldn't do it that way but.....', 'Well, if that's really what you think.....', 'I suppose you could do that.....'


......and lots and lots of heavy sighing........

Meds and Me - Oh, So Mellow!

The effect of painkillers on me is interesting - at least the painkiller hydrocodone.  Instead of knocking me out, it just makes me happy and mellow.  I'm agreeable and willing to out of my way to be so!  Yes, you brat, I'm talking about me - Brenda!  And I say it's 'interesting' because I think, for the most part, people who take it sleep quite a bit (at least, John does:).  But I've always had a 'hard-core' response to medication.  In other words, where the minimum dose works on most people, I always have to have the 'next step up' or 'the prescription level dose', etc. 

Because I knew I was going to be out most of the day last Friday running errands, I took back-to-back pain meds - bringing the meds with me (John was driving:) so that I could stay medicated throughout the day.  I can always tell 2 specific points of the medication's effect druign the 4 hours between doses: 1) When it first covers the pain, and 2) when it 'mellows' my whole body.

When each dose first completely covers the pain, about 45 minutes after taking it, I realize the pain is covered because I get this really wonderful, fuzzy mellow feeling behind my eyes.  I'm overwhelmed by an actual 'warm, fuzzy'.  In that moment, I think the the whole world is right and wonderful and worthy of patience and love - and I realize that I don't have pain in my shoulder or down my arm.

At about 2 1/2 hours into the dose, I suddenly feel all the strength leave, and I have no desire to exert one moment of energy beyond what I absolutely have to! I'm not tired, sleepy and have never fallen asleep at this point.  I'm just more relaxed than I can recall ever being in my whole life.....I'm mellow:)

I'm really glad that the hydrocodone makes me mellow because it made a day of errand running that much better. Why?  I LOVE to run errands!  I do - call me crazy (as if you don't already for so many other things!) - but it's another one of those freedome empowering activities that encourages me to embrace the reality that I AM an adult and - HAPPILY - fully responsible for myself and my actions.

MUST INSERT:  It is extremely less pleasureable, infinitely more of a burden to be borne, to have to run errands in the summer in Texas!!!

Okay, back to love it.....in addition, I also really enjoy hanging out with John, my husband.  We really have a great time together.  So, you can imagine how much groovier I felt Friday - not only was I doing two things I love - but I was doing them while completely mellowed on medication!  Win - Win - Win!!!!!