Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Touch your nose with your eyes closed test.
And today I meet with Dr Glenn of Raleigh Neurology. I only have fantastic things to say about her, so I'm naming her and her practice since my recommendation carries so much weight in the medical community, I know.
When I arrive at the office it's clear we're in flu season. Hard core. Hand sanitzers. Signs. Masks. Wow. I better not get swine flu. Seriously, I had only one sick day all of 2009 before two months away with brain bleed.
As with any doctor office, there is waiting. But when Dr Glenn arrives she delivers. She jokes "So, I'm supposed to consult on a case where I have absolutely no background?" Of course she hasn't gotten my notes, but she goes through the records I have diligently provided. She asks questions, answers my questions, we do neuro tests. When we get to the "touch your nose with your eyes closed test" it's like a monent of truth. I mess up! Argh. I really wonder if I was able to do this pre-brain bleed.
She concurs with Dr L that another angio is needed and she gets the pre-angio consult moved earlier in an effor to help me get back to my normal life sooner.
I'll see her in six months for a follow up. Thanks much to my Carleton neurosurgeon pal for the recommendation.
When I arrive at the office it's clear we're in flu season. Hard core. Hand sanitzers. Signs. Masks. Wow. I better not get swine flu. Seriously, I had only one sick day all of 2009 before two months away with brain bleed.
As with any doctor office, there is waiting. But when Dr Glenn arrives she delivers. She jokes "So, I'm supposed to consult on a case where I have absolutely no background?" Of course she hasn't gotten my notes, but she goes through the records I have diligently provided. She asks questions, answers my questions, we do neuro tests. When we get to the "touch your nose with your eyes closed test" it's like a monent of truth. I mess up! Argh. I really wonder if I was able to do this pre-brain bleed.
She concurs with Dr L that another angio is needed and she gets the pre-angio consult moved earlier in an effor to help me get back to my normal life sooner.
I'll see her in six months for a follow up. Thanks much to my Carleton neurosurgeon pal for the recommendation.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Mini Lasagna
How is it possible I'm discovering spaghetti squash only now? What a weird, yet intriguing food. Today, I attempted to use a spaghetti squash in a recipe titled "Spaghetti Squash Gratins with Chunky Tomato Sauce."
Step one reads "Pierce squash with fork." I wasn't sure if they meant once, or repeatedly so I went for repeatedly. Which led to some oozing when I remove the SS from the oven.
The ramekins that are available to me are tiny (bite size!) so I had to settle for Pyrex. Here's the view from the side. It's like a mini lasagna (Garfield!)
Bird's eye view of the final product. It doesn't photograph as well as it tastes.
Step one reads "Pierce squash with fork." I wasn't sure if they meant once, or repeatedly so I went for repeatedly. Which led to some oozing when I remove the SS from the oven.
The ramekins that are available to me are tiny (bite size!) so I had to settle for Pyrex. Here's the view from the side. It's like a mini lasagna (Garfield!)
Bird's eye view of the final product. It doesn't photograph as well as it tastes.
"I will not sleep at night until you have another angiogram."
I finally had my appointment with Dr L and it went exactly as anticipated. I arrived, paid, waited in the waiting room, and then waiting in the examination room (which was quite nice, actually. Bamboo floors).
Dr L arrived. Much shorter than I recall. Then again I was in a hospital bed. I admit I felt a little vulnerable and patientlike with him at the hospital. Though he wished me no ill will, I was at his mercy, yah know?
I much preferred talking to him fully clothed and feeling healthy. And, I admit, I enojoyed the height.
He asked me if I had my angiogram films. I explain to him that the wrong procedure was ordered. He shakes his head. Then I say "And you were the only person who could clarify what follow up was needed and you were unavailable in China."
"It is imperative. Imperative, imperative, imperative, you have an angiogram. For this to happen to you, so young and healthy, we need to take another look. I will not sleep at night until you have another angiogram."
(From the guy who takes off for weeks without coverage or contact).
My co-pay is refunded and an appointment is set up for the angio. Actually, it's not an appointment for the procedure. It's an appointment to meet with the Dr who is going to do the procedure. After that appointment the actual thing is scheduled. Geeeeeeze.
Dr L arrived. Much shorter than I recall. Then again I was in a hospital bed. I admit I felt a little vulnerable and patientlike with him at the hospital. Though he wished me no ill will, I was at his mercy, yah know?
I much preferred talking to him fully clothed and feeling healthy. And, I admit, I enojoyed the height.
He asked me if I had my angiogram films. I explain to him that the wrong procedure was ordered. He shakes his head. Then I say "And you were the only person who could clarify what follow up was needed and you were unavailable in China."
"It is imperative. Imperative, imperative, imperative, you have an angiogram. For this to happen to you, so young and healthy, we need to take another look. I will not sleep at night until you have another angiogram."
(From the guy who takes off for weeks without coverage or contact).
My co-pay is refunded and an appointment is set up for the angio. Actually, it's not an appointment for the procedure. It's an appointment to meet with the Dr who is going to do the procedure. After that appointment the actual thing is scheduled. Geeeeeeze.
Monday, September 28, 2009
Tester Pizza
Much to my delight the pizza dough rose. I attempted to spin the dough but I'm about as good as that as I am at frisbee (not very). Given that this was the first time I have done this in years I was reasonably pleased with the results, though I have several ideas how to make it tastier next time. This was just a tester pizza.
Pizza was followed by a screening of the following flick.
Pizza was followed by a screening of the following flick.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Therapizza
I had the blues this afternoon and decided to work it out in the kitchen. I remember a cooking mentor praising the pizza dough making process as therapeutic. So I decided to have at it. I didn't feel like going out to get supplies so I found a simple recipe with ingredients already stocked in the pantry. I'm letting the yeast do it's thing overnight in the fridge, so here's the prenatal pizza dough.
It's been a long time since I've done this so I'll have Papa John's phone number nearby around dinnertime tomorrow. In the meantime I'm going to search for the recipe I learned with and also pick up some semolina flour and possibly a pizza stone.
It's been a long time since I've done this so I'll have Papa John's phone number nearby around dinnertime tomorrow. In the meantime I'm going to search for the recipe I learned with and also pick up some semolina flour and possibly a pizza stone.
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Today's Menu: Kale and Crostini
What inspired the Kale? You oughta know that SuperFoods had something to do with it. Broccoli is a SuperFood. Kale is a sidekick. Kale& Broccoli have very high ORAC (Oxygen Radical Absorption Capacity) scores. In other words, they act very well as antioxidents.
The Crostini was inspired by one of Diane's Williams Sonoma recipe books. And, Diane made steak last weekend so she had some leftover blue cheese topping thing that needed finishing.
After this? Something with Italian sausage.
Friday, September 25, 2009
Tartettes
Since I had almost all the ingredients I took another whack at the tart and ended up with what I think the recipes intended as a result. I also divided the "dough" into thirds and made little personal pizza size tarts. Tartettes.
Since it was hurricaning outside, watched "Run Fat Boy, Run." It was cute except wah, I want to be training.
Since it was hurricaning outside, watched "Run Fat Boy, Run." It was cute except wah, I want to be training.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
I need to be more mindful or periods versus commas when reading recipes.
I had some leftover basil from a Thai dish I made last week. Not wanting that delicious herb to go to waste, I decided to find another dish that used basil and some lycopene-licious tomatoes since no meal is a good meal without a Superfood.
I found a recipe for a Rustic Tomato Basil Tart on the Cooking Lite website.
Diane, my cooking mentor, advised me to measure out all the ingredients before I started the dish - mise en place - she called it. Some "mise en place" would've saved 2 trips to the grocery store during the muffin making extravaganza yesterday.
You might note the basil is missing (the green that you do see is Oregano). This recipe was built around leftover basil but when it came time to use, it was no longer suitable for inclusion in a dish. Whoops. Fortunately, Whole Foods is nearby.
I need to be more mindful of periods and commas in a recipe. Two mistakes of a very similar nature were made. In short, I combined too many ingredients at once. For example I was supposed to combine the oregano, cheese and basil (PERIOD) and then in a separate dish combine flour and salt. (PERIOD). Instead, I did this.
Whoopsy, again.
I also left the tart dough in the freezer a bit too long.
Despite some missteps along the way, what resulted was tasty enough and worth trying again.
Doesn't the inside of this tomato look a little bit like a brain?
Tomorrow's challenge? Kale.
I found a recipe for a Rustic Tomato Basil Tart on the Cooking Lite website.
Diane, my cooking mentor, advised me to measure out all the ingredients before I started the dish - mise en place - she called it. Some "mise en place" would've saved 2 trips to the grocery store during the muffin making extravaganza yesterday.
You might note the basil is missing (the green that you do see is Oregano). This recipe was built around leftover basil but when it came time to use, it was no longer suitable for inclusion in a dish. Whoops. Fortunately, Whole Foods is nearby.
I need to be more mindful of periods and commas in a recipe. Two mistakes of a very similar nature were made. In short, I combined too many ingredients at once. For example I was supposed to combine the oregano, cheese and basil (PERIOD) and then in a separate dish combine flour and salt. (PERIOD). Instead, I did this.
Whoopsy, again.
I also left the tart dough in the freezer a bit too long.
Despite some missteps along the way, what resulted was tasty enough and worth trying again.
Doesn't the inside of this tomato look a little bit like a brain?
Tomorrow's challenge? Kale.
Yellow Eyeballs
Yes, yes, I am back on the Superfoods bus. One of the neat things about the author is that he has a background in ophthalmology and he explains what you can learn about your health from your eyes.
If you look at the white part of your eyes, particularly the area just to the right or the left of the iris and you see yellow discoloration (pinguecula) that could be the result of exposure to pollutants and UV light.
If you noticed a yellow ring around the peripheral parts of your cornea this is a warning sign that your cholesterol may be high.
In short, if your eyes have a yellowish look, they're telling you something.
If you look at the white part of your eyes, particularly the area just to the right or the left of the iris and you see yellow discoloration (pinguecula) that could be the result of exposure to pollutants and UV light.
If you noticed a yellow ring around the peripheral parts of your cornea this is a warning sign that your cholesterol may be high.
In short, if your eyes have a yellowish look, they're telling you something.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Superfoody Muffins: Take 2
Modifications:
1) Double recipe
2) They don't look green
3) Some enhanced with chocolate chips.
4) Apples and carrots more thoroughly blended
5) At first I was concerned they were undercooked, but Pro Baker Diane determined they were perfectly moist (I always think about "Dead Like Me" at the mention of the word "moist.")
I burned the tip of my finger. Ouch. I need to remember how HAWT the pans can get. Tomorrow night I am going to attempt a tart.
1) Double recipe
2) They don't look green
3) Some enhanced with chocolate chips.
4) Apples and carrots more thoroughly blended
5) At first I was concerned they were undercooked, but Pro Baker Diane determined they were perfectly moist (I always think about "Dead Like Me" at the mention of the word "moist.")
I burned the tip of my finger. Ouch. I need to remember how HAWT the pans can get. Tomorrow night I am going to attempt a tart.
Friday, September 18, 2009
Rachel Getting Married
Finally made it to a movie on the lawn at the NCMA. I've attempted this multiple times this summer but rain and exhaustion are not my friends. Adam wasn't feeling well so Diane & I had a date. It wasn't the happiest of movies and had Adam been there he would have completely restricted and shut down my movie selecting privileges permanently.
The movie took place in CT! Near Greeeeenwich.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Chez Jamie
I'm surprising myself by cooking and baking. I have been trying to make a Thai dish for the last two days but there is one elusive ingredient that can only be purchased at the Grand Asia market.
After getting lost (I got Buck Jones and Jones Franklin confused, really, who would put those roads so close to each other, in Cary, which is already confusing) I finally find the place, get the ingredient and the next day, make the dish.
After an initial tasting I decide to add tomatoes and basil to the mix. I cut the chicken a little more thin. Believe it or not this meal almost resembles my favorite dish at Sawatdee.
Later in the day, I bake cupcakes. Diane does the frosting. The cupcakes are for a friend who loves bugs so she goes with a ladybug theme.
This inclination to cook and bake is a little disconcerting.
After getting lost (I got Buck Jones and Jones Franklin confused, really, who would put those roads so close to each other, in Cary, which is already confusing) I finally find the place, get the ingredient and the next day, make the dish.
After an initial tasting I decide to add tomatoes and basil to the mix. I cut the chicken a little more thin. Believe it or not this meal almost resembles my favorite dish at Sawatdee.
Later in the day, I bake cupcakes. Diane does the frosting. The cupcakes are for a friend who loves bugs so she goes with a ladybug theme.
This inclination to cook and bake is a little disconcerting.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Superfoodalicious Muffins
Delicious muffins. Superfoodalicious.
Yeah, they look a bit green on camera. I'm going to frost them.
Yeah, they look a bit green on camera. I'm going to frost them.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Ask questions before you take off your clothes
My angiogram is scheduled for 9:00 am on Thursday, September 10th. I haven't been looking forward to it and I get a little anxious the night before. I'm also a little disconcerted at the lack of information and instructions about the procedure. Last time I wasn't able to eat beforehand and after I had to lie down flat for 4 hours. How does that work as an outpatient?
The night before I put together a playlist called "Angiogram". It was meant to be soothing songs I could listen to after the procedure - like "O, Holy Night."
Thursday morning Adam arrived early to get me to the hospital. We we're going to have breakfast together but given that I didn't have an answer about fasting I figured it was safest to skip breakfast.
Adam and I were in the radiology waiting room. We had asked to talk to someone about eating and what happens when this is done. Someone comes out and gives me paperwork to complete.
She also gives me a one page playlist and asks me what music I would like to listen to during the procedure.
Hang on.
Music?
There's no way I'm listening to music during this procedure.
"I'm scheduled for an angiogram"
"Yes, You're scheduled for an angiogram."
After a few phone calls, I learn that the term "angiogram" appears in a few different medical contexts.
There's a cerebral angiogram (the thing that I was expecting with the catheter through the groin and the dye squirting in the brain) and then there's an MRA, magnetic resonance angiogram.
The procedure was ordered by my PA's office: Raleigh Family Practice (RFP). I had a follow up appointment with them two weeks ago and told that my hospital neurologist, Dr. L, recommended an angiogram. I also signed a release form so they could access all my records, particularly directions relating to follow up care.
Turns out RFP doesn't have my records. So, the procedure was ordered based on my verbal instructions? What if I had asked for a boob job?
(Later on I learn that only 20% of Dr.'s instructions in an ER visit are retained).
Dr. L's office is called. Dr. L is in China. With no backup. And no, he's not calling in.
Really?
I need to look at my records. By the time I get back to Rex the Medical Records office is closed. They open up at 8:00 the next morning.
So, the next morning, bright and early and march over to the hospital. I feel like a detective. I find the medical records office, sign some paperwork and sit in the waiting area with my book until my records are delivered.
I review all 50+ pages of information. It's a little bit like reliving it. On one page I noticed the remark "The patient is pleasant and cooperative." Awwwwwww.
Finally, I find the follow up instructions. They indicate I am to have another angiogram. This leaves me where I was yesterday morning. What type of angiogram? The only person who can answer this is in China until the end of the month.
I walk from the hospital to RFP and bring them the records. This is so old school, walking records from office to office. Yeesh. One of the reasons I chose the primary health care provider I did was because they were associated with my hospital. RFP reviews the records and while they suspect that Dr. L was referring to a cerebral angiogram (I was right!) they want a neurologist to make that determination.
At this point, I'm fed up with Doctor L and his off to China with no backup so I try to make an appointment with a different neurologist who was recommended to me by a trusted friend. The first available appointment is September 30th (my appointment with Dr L was on the 29th). Yes, they can put me on a wait list in case there is a cancellation.
This whole experience raises questions about the patient's role in health care. I'm more than happy to take responsibility for my health and throughout this whole process I've paid quite a bit of attention to everything I've been told. I've also reached out to friends who are medical professionals for more information. Having said that, I'm not a Doctor and I also don't totally trust my recollection of any of the events that took place (follow up instructions in particular) when I was in the hospital (yes, despite pages and pages of blog entries about it). But, here I am, it seems trying to integrate information regarding my care.
Lesson Learned: Ask questions before you take off your clothes (to put on a hospital gown).
The night before I put together a playlist called "Angiogram". It was meant to be soothing songs I could listen to after the procedure - like "O, Holy Night."
Thursday morning Adam arrived early to get me to the hospital. We we're going to have breakfast together but given that I didn't have an answer about fasting I figured it was safest to skip breakfast.
Adam and I were in the radiology waiting room. We had asked to talk to someone about eating and what happens when this is done. Someone comes out and gives me paperwork to complete.
She also gives me a one page playlist and asks me what music I would like to listen to during the procedure.
Hang on.
Music?
There's no way I'm listening to music during this procedure.
"I'm scheduled for an angiogram"
"Yes, You're scheduled for an angiogram."
After a few phone calls, I learn that the term "angiogram" appears in a few different medical contexts.
There's a cerebral angiogram (the thing that I was expecting with the catheter through the groin and the dye squirting in the brain) and then there's an MRA, magnetic resonance angiogram.
The procedure was ordered by my PA's office: Raleigh Family Practice (RFP). I had a follow up appointment with them two weeks ago and told that my hospital neurologist, Dr. L, recommended an angiogram. I also signed a release form so they could access all my records, particularly directions relating to follow up care.
Turns out RFP doesn't have my records. So, the procedure was ordered based on my verbal instructions? What if I had asked for a boob job?
(Later on I learn that only 20% of Dr.'s instructions in an ER visit are retained).
Dr. L's office is called. Dr. L is in China. With no backup. And no, he's not calling in.
Really?
I need to look at my records. By the time I get back to Rex the Medical Records office is closed. They open up at 8:00 the next morning.
So, the next morning, bright and early and march over to the hospital. I feel like a detective. I find the medical records office, sign some paperwork and sit in the waiting area with my book until my records are delivered.
I review all 50+ pages of information. It's a little bit like reliving it. On one page I noticed the remark "The patient is pleasant and cooperative." Awwwwwww.
Finally, I find the follow up instructions. They indicate I am to have another angiogram. This leaves me where I was yesterday morning. What type of angiogram? The only person who can answer this is in China until the end of the month.
I walk from the hospital to RFP and bring them the records. This is so old school, walking records from office to office. Yeesh. One of the reasons I chose the primary health care provider I did was because they were associated with my hospital. RFP reviews the records and while they suspect that Dr. L was referring to a cerebral angiogram (I was right!) they want a neurologist to make that determination.
At this point, I'm fed up with Doctor L and his off to China with no backup so I try to make an appointment with a different neurologist who was recommended to me by a trusted friend. The first available appointment is September 30th (my appointment with Dr L was on the 29th). Yes, they can put me on a wait list in case there is a cancellation.
This whole experience raises questions about the patient's role in health care. I'm more than happy to take responsibility for my health and throughout this whole process I've paid quite a bit of attention to everything I've been told. I've also reached out to friends who are medical professionals for more information. Having said that, I'm not a Doctor and I also don't totally trust my recollection of any of the events that took place (follow up instructions in particular) when I was in the hospital (yes, despite pages and pages of blog entries about it). But, here I am, it seems trying to integrate information regarding my care.
Lesson Learned: Ask questions before you take off your clothes (to put on a hospital gown).
Tuesday, September 08, 2009
Monday, September 07, 2009
Super Helium?
These balloons were filled with helium sometime during the week of 8.10.09. Here they are, almost a month later, still flying high(ish). I considered taping them to the ceiling just to confuse those already in awe of the balloons.
Sunday, September 06, 2009
Brain Thanks
With the exception of Greta, all the nurses at Rex were fantastic. There was one nurse in particular who was super fantastic. Her name was Michelle and she had the brightest blue eyes I've ever seen thanks to her contact lenses. When I left the hospital I wanted to do something nice for her. A few weeks later I did.
Diane and I made brain cupcakes and I brought them over to the hospital for Michelle and anyone else who was lucky enough to be working that shift.
Diane and I made brain cupcakes and I brought them over to the hospital for Michelle and anyone else who was lucky enough to be working that shift.
Saturday, September 05, 2009
Friday, September 04, 2009
Hush Puppies
I rested up all day so I could join some out of out town Carleton alumni office people at Bullocks. It was the first time I had been in Durham since my last day at work. I enjoyed the hush puppies along with a full moon.
Adam and I were considering seeing a movie on the lawn at the North Carolina museum of art. I can watch a movie while lying down. Perfect! But I'm too tired when I get back and we end up watching West Wing, which seems to be the default activity for me.
Adam and I were considering seeing a movie on the lawn at the North Carolina museum of art. I can watch a movie while lying down. Perfect! But I'm too tired when I get back and we end up watching West Wing, which seems to be the default activity for me.
Tuesday, September 01, 2009
Falling
The first day of September is markedly cooler than any day in August. As if fall arrived on command. There's a poem I always think of when the summer is ending. I posted it last year, so I'll just post a line or two (or five) here.
this high summer we love will pour its light
the fields grown rich and ragged in one strong moment
then before we're ready will crash into autumn
with a violence we can't accept
a bounty we can't forgive
this high summer we love will pour its light
the fields grown rich and ragged in one strong moment
then before we're ready will crash into autumn
with a violence we can't accept
a bounty we can't forgive
Monday, August 31, 2009
Rainy Monday
I've been doing pretty well is terms of "keeping busy" during the day but also taking it easy, listening to my body and not overdoing it. Today it was rainy. It was Monday. I sat around and watched West Wing in my pajamas. At the end of the day I felt slovenly. Adam remarked that my description of my day made me seem a little bit more like a real person.
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Tinkerbells
It's the third annual North Carolina Carleton Club summer send off and we actually have incoming students attending to send off. A good time was had by all (though I had to take a nap in the middle of it). One of my favorite pics in below. The reflective material on Bengt's shoes make it look like he's Tinkerbell or something. Sadly, he didn't fly.
And look, there goes Todd!
I'm also happy for the opportunity to talk to Kris who is a neurosurgeon. She assures me the angiogram will not be as bad the second time around.
And look, there goes Todd!
I'm also happy for the opportunity to talk to Kris who is a neurosurgeon. She assures me the angiogram will not be as bad the second time around.
Saturday, August 29, 2009
A little gathering
Diane and I had a few people over for wine and cheese to celebrate the redecoration of the apartment and the end of the hospital drama.
The morning is gone. It's dreamed away. But that's alright. It's Saturday.
I'm generally a morning person so a 10:45am wake up caught me by surprise. When I wake up early, somehow I feel like I'm getting a head start o the day. It was the Dar Williams lyrics (see the title of this post) that made me feel ok about it.
Friday, August 28, 2009
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
I actually did laugh out loud
I got a nice card from the Clients. This was my favorite note:
"I can't believe you're making me deal with Rod for a little brain malfunction". You know the expression "laugh out loud"? I actually did laugh out loud at the mailboxes.
"I can't believe you're making me deal with Rod for a little brain malfunction". You know the expression "laugh out loud"? I actually did laugh out loud at the mailboxes.
Monday, August 24, 2009
Dream Phlebotomist
I had a follow up doctor visit today. When I made the appointment they told me I should fast prior to the appointment. I responded "Oh, we can skip that part I've had several blood test in the past week I'll make sure you get those records."
No such luck.
However, I've met my dream phlebotomist. Her name is Yolanda. I didn't even feel it. Where was she when I was at Rex?
This office is associated with Rex so they're going to set up the next cerebral angiogram. Not looking forward to that. The bruise on my right side was healing up nicely. But for the second procedure they'll go in on the left side. Perfect. Evens things out.
I am woozy after all that blood has been drawn. Diane picks me up and I'm craving McDonald's french fries so that's what we have for lunch. Yes, I have temporarily gotten off the SuperFoods bandwagon. Right now I don't feel good and I'm underweight so I'm basically eating whatever I want. It's awesome.
No such luck.
However, I've met my dream phlebotomist. Her name is Yolanda. I didn't even feel it. Where was she when I was at Rex?
This office is associated with Rex so they're going to set up the next cerebral angiogram. Not looking forward to that. The bruise on my right side was healing up nicely. But for the second procedure they'll go in on the left side. Perfect. Evens things out.
I am woozy after all that blood has been drawn. Diane picks me up and I'm craving McDonald's french fries so that's what we have for lunch. Yes, I have temporarily gotten off the SuperFoods bandwagon. Right now I don't feel good and I'm underweight so I'm basically eating whatever I want. It's awesome.
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Saturday, August 22, 2009
The Girl Who
Just finished reading this book.
It was the second book in a series of three.
There were some parts of the book that gave me pause.
Her mother had spent 10 years at Appelviken and it was where she finally died at only 46 after on last annihilating cerebral haemorhage.
The last fourteen years of Agneta Sofia Salander's life had been punctuated by small cerebral haemorhages which left her unable to take care of her self. Sometimes she had not even been able to recognize her daughter.
It was the second book in a series of three.
There were some parts of the book that gave me pause.
Her mother had spent 10 years at Appelviken and it was where she finally died at only 46 after on last annihilating cerebral haemorhage.
The last fourteen years of Agneta Sofia Salander's life had been punctuated by small cerebral haemorhages which left her unable to take care of her self. Sometimes she had not even been able to recognize her daughter.
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Sunday August 16th, at the hospital and then home
I’m woken up to the sound of the IV machine beeping. It’s on empty and won’t keep quiet until refilled. I feel heavy tingling in my hand and it’s spreading. I feel crappy and on top of that the “Mom” lady is full throttle across the hall.
I press the “Nurse” button. This doesn’t immediately send a nurse to your room but rather prompts the question “What is it?” Part of me thinks “This isn’t a drive through. If I’ve pressed the nurse button, I need a nurse.” but I state my business and patiently wait. I also note the time.
I know I’m not the only patient in this hospital and don’t have a dire problem but I get a little frustrated when 45 minutes go by and nobody has come to my room. Being the Account Person I am I write down the time when I pressed the button and will note the time when someone actually arrives.
Finally a nurse comes in but she’s there to check my vitals. At this point, the tingling has subsided. But, the woman across the call has started up again. This morning it’s “Dad, Dad, Dad.”
I feel desperate for information. I was given a one pager the other day but the information was thin. I’m a little afraid to try Google because there are a range of degrees when it comes to cerebral hemorrhages and I don’t want to needlessly scare the crap out of myself. I want more terminology. I want to know what to expect in terms of symptoms – what’s normal, what’s indicative of a problem - especially because I’m going home today.
I reach out to Carleton folks via the Health message board, I e-mail a friend of mine whose Dad is a Psychiatrist. I even send an e-mail to an ex-boyfriend who is a neuroscience post doc.
Fortunately, there’s a wonderful nurse working the day shift and she answers several of my questions. I am much more at ease. I’ve packed up my room and am ready to go.
Three hours later they remove the IV and I’m discharged.
Ah, home.
I have Chubby Taco’s for dinner.
It stays down.
The worst must be over.
I press the “Nurse” button. This doesn’t immediately send a nurse to your room but rather prompts the question “What is it?” Part of me thinks “This isn’t a drive through. If I’ve pressed the nurse button, I need a nurse.” but I state my business and patiently wait. I also note the time.
I know I’m not the only patient in this hospital and don’t have a dire problem but I get a little frustrated when 45 minutes go by and nobody has come to my room. Being the Account Person I am I write down the time when I pressed the button and will note the time when someone actually arrives.
Finally a nurse comes in but she’s there to check my vitals. At this point, the tingling has subsided. But, the woman across the call has started up again. This morning it’s “Dad, Dad, Dad.”
I feel desperate for information. I was given a one pager the other day but the information was thin. I’m a little afraid to try Google because there are a range of degrees when it comes to cerebral hemorrhages and I don’t want to needlessly scare the crap out of myself. I want more terminology. I want to know what to expect in terms of symptoms – what’s normal, what’s indicative of a problem - especially because I’m going home today.
I reach out to Carleton folks via the Health message board, I e-mail a friend of mine whose Dad is a Psychiatrist. I even send an e-mail to an ex-boyfriend who is a neuroscience post doc.
Fortunately, there’s a wonderful nurse working the day shift and she answers several of my questions. I am much more at ease. I’ve packed up my room and am ready to go.
Three hours later they remove the IV and I’m discharged.
Ah, home.
I have Chubby Taco’s for dinner.
It stays down.
The worst must be over.
Saturday, August 15, 2009
Saturday, August 15th, patient tower
I wake up hungry. When the nurse comes in to check on me I ask her for ice cream. It’s 4 am. I love this.
I’m certain I’ll be discharged today but an early morning visit from the doctor indicates otherwise. Arg. They must be proceeding with caution because of the premature discharge.
I feel (and apparently look) much better and it’s easier for Teri to say goodbye to me today. While I wish none of this had happened, I’m glad she was here for it. I miss her the minute she walks out the door. My Princess.
I’m cleared to take a shower today! Hooray. My products, however, are at home. The nurse brings me a bottle of something that is soap, shampoo and conditioner all in one. I really don’t trust anything that claims to do all that much but patients can’t be choosers.
Adam’s got to work today to catch up for the days out earlier this week so Diane and Bengt take over “Jamie Duty.”
The Physical Therapist comes by and I’m ready to do cartwheels for her in order to get the OK for discharge. She takes me out to the hallway for the various “tasks” she needs me to perform.
There’s one task I’ve been asked to do several times. Hold your hands out in front of you, arms a bit far apart, point a finger and touch your nose. With your eyes closed. It’s the strangest thing when you miss and I’ve missed this one repeatedly, today being no exception.
Despite not being able to touch my nose, the PT says I’m “cleared” and I should be out of here soon.
I had better be out of here soon! If they don’t let me out tomorrow I’m going to pull the flat screen TV and throw it out the window a la “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.”
Diane, Bengt and I start a Scrabble game. I get tired in a hurry (or maybe I just picked bad tiles!) and they decide to head to the mall to run some errand so I can rest. They’re also going to pick up lunch.
I experience a twinge of envy at them being able to just do your basic Saturday things. Funny that going to the mall triggered that. I must be getting better and back to my old self.
I wake up from my nap hungry. This is a fabulous feeling. Diane and Bengt are still not back with my sandwich and I send Bengt a text telling them to hurry up before the feeling passes.
They arrive and I eat the sandwich with no issue. Fantastic!
I’m learn allowed to put on my own clothes and my friends can take me “outside” (hospital courtyard) provided they do so in a wheelchair. Today is full of privileges, indeed.
Outside. I’m thrilled for some fresh air. Until we get outside. It’s August in North Carolina and the air feels heavy and hot, not fresh. I delight in it anyway.
Adam and Colin join us and everyone takes turns pushing me around the small courtyard. Adam does the equivalent of popping a wheelie with me in the chair. I am not amused.
I have a very happy moment outside. I’m clean, I’m wearing my own clothes, I’m outside, and most importantly I’m in the presence of friends. We’re just chatting about whatever and it feels normal. So normal that I really want to get up and walk around but I know I’m better off following doctor’s orders so I stay put.
Later that night when everyone has left the pendulum swings and the tears finally come. I think it was the moment when it all sunk in. The woman moaning “Mom” in the background doesn’t help. None of this has seemed real up until now and even though I’m well enough to be discharged it’s at this moment I feel the most scared.
Eventually I find comfort and sleep.
I’m certain I’ll be discharged today but an early morning visit from the doctor indicates otherwise. Arg. They must be proceeding with caution because of the premature discharge.
I feel (and apparently look) much better and it’s easier for Teri to say goodbye to me today. While I wish none of this had happened, I’m glad she was here for it. I miss her the minute she walks out the door. My Princess.
I’m cleared to take a shower today! Hooray. My products, however, are at home. The nurse brings me a bottle of something that is soap, shampoo and conditioner all in one. I really don’t trust anything that claims to do all that much but patients can’t be choosers.
Adam’s got to work today to catch up for the days out earlier this week so Diane and Bengt take over “Jamie Duty.”
The Physical Therapist comes by and I’m ready to do cartwheels for her in order to get the OK for discharge. She takes me out to the hallway for the various “tasks” she needs me to perform.
There’s one task I’ve been asked to do several times. Hold your hands out in front of you, arms a bit far apart, point a finger and touch your nose. With your eyes closed. It’s the strangest thing when you miss and I’ve missed this one repeatedly, today being no exception.
Despite not being able to touch my nose, the PT says I’m “cleared” and I should be out of here soon.
I had better be out of here soon! If they don’t let me out tomorrow I’m going to pull the flat screen TV and throw it out the window a la “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.”
Diane, Bengt and I start a Scrabble game. I get tired in a hurry (or maybe I just picked bad tiles!) and they decide to head to the mall to run some errand so I can rest. They’re also going to pick up lunch.
I experience a twinge of envy at them being able to just do your basic Saturday things. Funny that going to the mall triggered that. I must be getting better and back to my old self.
I wake up from my nap hungry. This is a fabulous feeling. Diane and Bengt are still not back with my sandwich and I send Bengt a text telling them to hurry up before the feeling passes.
They arrive and I eat the sandwich with no issue. Fantastic!
I’m learn allowed to put on my own clothes and my friends can take me “outside” (hospital courtyard) provided they do so in a wheelchair. Today is full of privileges, indeed.
Outside. I’m thrilled for some fresh air. Until we get outside. It’s August in North Carolina and the air feels heavy and hot, not fresh. I delight in it anyway.
Adam and Colin join us and everyone takes turns pushing me around the small courtyard. Adam does the equivalent of popping a wheelie with me in the chair. I am not amused.
I have a very happy moment outside. I’m clean, I’m wearing my own clothes, I’m outside, and most importantly I’m in the presence of friends. We’re just chatting about whatever and it feels normal. So normal that I really want to get up and walk around but I know I’m better off following doctor’s orders so I stay put.
Later that night when everyone has left the pendulum swings and the tears finally come. I think it was the moment when it all sunk in. The woman moaning “Mom” in the background doesn’t help. None of this has seemed real up until now and even though I’m well enough to be discharged it’s at this moment I feel the most scared.
Eventually I find comfort and sleep.
Friday, August 14, 2009
Friday, August 14th, the rest of the day, sixth floor east patient tower
Eventually I’m transferred from the ER to the regular hospital.
When I’m transferred to the sixth floor of the patient tower I’m delighted to see that I’m in a private room. With a big window. I ask for the shades to be opened so I can get some real light.
And, I have a real bathroom. With a shower! Luxury at its finest. I am, however, tethered to the IV machine. Luxury, but without freedom, I guess.
It’s a private room. But, I appear to have a roommate. There’s an older woman across the hall who is wailing for her mom. “Mom, Mom, Mom.” It’s likely some form of dementia. She becomes the soundtrack to my time on the sixth floor.
During the day, you were slowly working your way up the food chain. You started with clear, non-judgemental things like ginger ale, jello, and some sort of sorbet-esque thing.
My friends are the ones administering most of the food. Apparently Diane doesn’t trust me completely with food at this point. Jello is added to the repertoire and I’m not keen to eat it, even though it’s orange (my favorite color).
We have a calm and quiet afternoon that involved a group nap (Diane claimed to be comfortable on the floor), listening to music for the “Sicky” play list, reading, watching West Wing and browsing the internet on the iloverex wireless network.
And then it’s time for me to go to the bathroom. A nurse comes in to help me walk the five feet from the bed to the bathroom. She makes me put on those damn blue socks. That’s when I realize they have treads and their popularity makes just a little sense to me.
The nurse notices that my gown isn’t on properly.
The nurse also pretty much takes the gown off of you and reorients it on you without much of a heyhowyadoin.
I really have no modesty left but pals in the room avert their eyes.
Teri discovers a fridge full of ice cream, apple juice and Shasta and she brings ice cream for everyone.
I partake in the impromptu ice cream party and it stays put. Because of this I am allowed full reign of the “room service” menu for dinner. I joke about ordering hot and spicy food items but decide on cornflakes and toast. I eat the cornflakes but skip the toast, probably something to do with the fate of the toast I had that morning.
My grumpy boss Rod also stops by and for some strange reason he cheers me up. He even brings me flowers. We learn that we have visits to Rex and angiograms in common.
Rod is followed by Andrea. She brings a box that had been at my desk. I am positive that it is the cute running outfits I bought from Athleta but turns out to be a pair of shoes I ordered from Piperlime, mainly to get free shipping. Might have been for the best because I wouldn’t have been able to try on the clothes and their arrival would have punctuated that I won’t be running any time soon.
I’ve enjoyed the company of my coworkers and friends but I feel myself getting tired so I send everyone away. I feel like a bad host every time I do this even though I know my guests understand why I need them to leave.
Before I nap, I get a voice mail from my friend Candace. It’s unlikely that she know what’s going on and I delight in her message asking me if I’m going to do the Splash and Dash swim/run event this weekend. It’s just a nice reminder of normalcy even though participation in the event is out of the question.
After a long day at work, Adam comes by. He missed work on Wednesday and Thursday to be with me and now he’s catching up. I was told a physical therapist was going to stop by on Saturday so Adam takes me on a walk through the halls. I consider this training.
I’m wobbly, dizzy and tire easily but it’s still nice to move around and get a look out the windows. Adam helps me figure out where I am situated relative to Lake Boone trail – should the hospital decide to slide down it again.
When I’m transferred to the sixth floor of the patient tower I’m delighted to see that I’m in a private room. With a big window. I ask for the shades to be opened so I can get some real light.
And, I have a real bathroom. With a shower! Luxury at its finest. I am, however, tethered to the IV machine. Luxury, but without freedom, I guess.
It’s a private room. But, I appear to have a roommate. There’s an older woman across the hall who is wailing for her mom. “Mom, Mom, Mom.” It’s likely some form of dementia. She becomes the soundtrack to my time on the sixth floor.
During the day, you were slowly working your way up the food chain. You started with clear, non-judgemental things like ginger ale, jello, and some sort of sorbet-esque thing.
My friends are the ones administering most of the food. Apparently Diane doesn’t trust me completely with food at this point. Jello is added to the repertoire and I’m not keen to eat it, even though it’s orange (my favorite color).
We have a calm and quiet afternoon that involved a group nap (Diane claimed to be comfortable on the floor), listening to music for the “Sicky” play list, reading, watching West Wing and browsing the internet on the iloverex wireless network.
And then it’s time for me to go to the bathroom. A nurse comes in to help me walk the five feet from the bed to the bathroom. She makes me put on those damn blue socks. That’s when I realize they have treads and their popularity makes just a little sense to me.
The nurse notices that my gown isn’t on properly.
The nurse also pretty much takes the gown off of you and reorients it on you without much of a heyhowyadoin.
I really have no modesty left but pals in the room avert their eyes.
Teri discovers a fridge full of ice cream, apple juice and Shasta and she brings ice cream for everyone.
I partake in the impromptu ice cream party and it stays put. Because of this I am allowed full reign of the “room service” menu for dinner. I joke about ordering hot and spicy food items but decide on cornflakes and toast. I eat the cornflakes but skip the toast, probably something to do with the fate of the toast I had that morning.
My grumpy boss Rod also stops by and for some strange reason he cheers me up. He even brings me flowers. We learn that we have visits to Rex and angiograms in common.
Rod is followed by Andrea. She brings a box that had been at my desk. I am positive that it is the cute running outfits I bought from Athleta but turns out to be a pair of shoes I ordered from Piperlime, mainly to get free shipping. Might have been for the best because I wouldn’t have been able to try on the clothes and their arrival would have punctuated that I won’t be running any time soon.
I’ve enjoyed the company of my coworkers and friends but I feel myself getting tired so I send everyone away. I feel like a bad host every time I do this even though I know my guests understand why I need them to leave.
Before I nap, I get a voice mail from my friend Candace. It’s unlikely that she know what’s going on and I delight in her message asking me if I’m going to do the Splash and Dash swim/run event this weekend. It’s just a nice reminder of normalcy even though participation in the event is out of the question.
After a long day at work, Adam comes by. He missed work on Wednesday and Thursday to be with me and now he’s catching up. I was told a physical therapist was going to stop by on Saturday so Adam takes me on a walk through the halls. I consider this training.
I’m wobbly, dizzy and tire easily but it’s still nice to move around and get a look out the windows. Adam helps me figure out where I am situated relative to Lake Boone trail – should the hospital decide to slide down it again.
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