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And today… another “field trip” (of sorts!)

Thursday, July 20th, 2023

I have known from the beginning that this “field trip” is probablyy a bit of a misnomer but, once again, I left Oysterville in the Wachsmuths’ car — this time without Tucker.  Carol had long ago agreed to drive me to my first periodontal “procedure” in Gearhart and since Amelia is visiting her Oma and Opa, she went with us.  What a trooper!

Truth to tell, I could have gone by myself, but I wasn’t sure what to expect, what they’d find, and how extensive my “treatment” would be.  So. reverting to my normal weenie status, I prevailed upon Carol!  I’m so glad I did!

We drove to Gearhart — not to the town center but on the highway, very close to the Seaside border.  The Wachsmuth Ladies dropped me off and went exploring and I bravely proceeded on.  Bottom Line:  The worst part was the numbing up and the worst part of that was the shot in the roof of my mouth.  Otherwise, the hour-plus long procedure was mostly without incident — a few gurgling struggles on my part with the ever-squirting water, but otherwise pretty straightforward.

Only the right half of my mouth was done first and the prognosis was “medium” — the possibility of a bone graft where the roots of one upper molar are totally exposed, but apparently we’ll cross that “bridge” when we come to it.  For now, recovery and another “procedure” next month for the left half of my mouth.  Oh joy!

On the whole, I’d far rather confine my field trips to Cathlamet!

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After I turned in my eyeglasses…

Thursday, January 5th, 2023

Mama, Granny, Me — Easter Sunday 1940
(About The Time I was Granny’s helper with the oil stove.)

When I accepted Cate’s New Year’s Resolution challenge — to think of something to add rather than to subtract from my life, I thought about it long and hard.  But aparently not long and hard enough.

I chose to try to become more compassionate more empathetic,  Little did I know that I would get my first opportunity by January 4th and that my compassion was extending backwards a few generations rather than sideways to those I may already know in the here and now.  And it all happened because I turned in my prescription eyeglasses!

Yep!  Turned them over to the  optician to have my lenses updated.  Since my same, round frames (which I love) are no longer available, I opted to have the new lenses placed in these beloved old frames — fingers crossed that there isn’t a problem — and to just go without glasses for a time.

Three weeks???  Say what?  Still… I only need the reading part — my long distance vision is fine.  So I can drive and I can manage on the computer where it is possible to enlarge and/or darken fonts.  No problemo, right?  WRONG!

the Library of Congress provided record players and “talking books” on records so my grandmother could read.

Right off the bat I wanted to check on an old recipe of my mother’s.  Didn’t couldn’t wouldn’t happen.  A magnifying glass didn’t help.  My astigmatism is too strong and even though both doctor and optician had told me that those “cheater” glasses at the drugstore would not help me, somehow I though one of these strong magnifying glasses that are scattered about our house would do the trick.  WRONG1

My grandmother was legally blind by the time I was born and almost totally blind by the time I was in fourth or fifth grade.  Yet, she lived in this house, managed to cook on a wood stove (for which she even chopped kindling) and took care of my grandfather’s needs until after the war when she was able to have one of the first cataract surgery operations in NYC in 1946.

The first thing she saw when the bandages came off was the doctor’s tie.  She was totally amazed.  Never before had she seen a tie with bright colors on it!  And, of course the list grew.

These days audio and large print books are readily available at most libraries,

But… as I maneuver through this big house — now with all the amenities of electricity and running water, toilets and thermostatically controlled heat, my compassion for granny knows know bounds.  I remember that from the time I was four or five, it was my job to  help her light the oil heating stove early each morning.  She couldn’t tell if the matches she dropped in one after another had “caught” and so I would say, “There she goes granny!  Lit for another day.”  And we would get up off our hands and  knees and go into the kitchen to fix breakfast.

Was I compassionate? I have no idea.  But I certainly am now.  And for all the other people who go about their daily tasks undaunted, but unsighted.  OMG!

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It used to be…

Saturday, December 10th, 2022

Sick girl in bed

Remember when you were feeling puny and the words to live by were “take two aspirin and call me in the  morning…”?

Now, if you are just a skosh off your normal, exuberant self, people immediately ask “Have you taken a Covid test?” and then cancel that coffee date you were counting on in the morning.

And just when things were settling down — when we could once again recognize our friends because they weren’t all masked up like Ninjas — and the headlines were telling us that the worst was over IF we’d been vaxxed and re-vaxxed, boosted once, twice, triply, and stayed off airplanes and out of crowds — then here came a host of other concerns!

Long Covid, for instance.  Supposedly non-contagious.  Supposedly only affects those who successfully got through Covid (or is that an oxymoron?) and for which there are no answers to the obvious questions like how long?   Or why me?

When I began sleeping round the clock a few months back and ached in every muscle, bone and orifice, I was finally told (but not by a member of the medical community) that it might be my body’s reaction to an anti-toxin overload. Say what?  Well, it’s true that my first bout with this dread-whatever-it-is began two days after my third booster (with which I also had a flu shot.)  So… maybe so.

Do I accept that it’s (in some way) Covid related?  No, of course not.  Do I honestly expect someone from the medical community to tell me what is going on?  Repeat second sentence of this paragraph.

And having written all of this — it’s high time for another nap.

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We are as usual…

Saturday, November 26th, 2022

Julia Jefferson Espy c. 1895

If my great-grandmother Julia’s letters are typical of those of others of the 1800s, it seems to me that  a good deal of time was spent discussing the various health issues of family members.  This was especially true in her weekly letters to her three eldest children, Edwin, Dora, and Harry (my grandfather) when they were away at school.

In those days, the 1880s and ’90s,  the Oysterville School went through the 8th grade but there was no practicaL way for students to continue with their secondary education here on the Peninsula.  For the R.H. Espy children, the solution was to send them to Grace Seminary in Centralia where they boarded during the school year, returning home for vacations much as students in boarding schools of today do.

It was Julia’s  habit to write to her absent children each Sunday afternoon, presumably the only time during the week that she really had to herself.  From reading those letters of long ago, I think it was a time (perhaps the only time) Julia had for reflecting on the everyday things that consumed her life as mother of seven, wife and helpmate to one of the most prominent men in the County, and the friend and acquaintance known as “Mother Espy” to every other woman, young or old, of the  village.

Harry and Dora Espy circa 1894

Besides village and family news, Julia’s letters are peppered with health advice for her children.”  On March 4, 1894, she wrote to my grandfather (then 17 years old): I am sorry you have such a cold and advise you to put a wet pack on your throat at night, not forgetting to rub it well with cold water when you take it off in the morning.  I think it would take 3 doses of Belladonna (not too large) about 6 hours apart for the sore throat.    If the croup indications continue, take Aconite and Hepar Sulphur alternately.  I will send you some Spongia, put 1 powder in 4 spoonsful of water and take 1 spoonful at a dose half an hour apart in the morning if you are threatened with croup.  Then in six hours take the Belladonna as directed above, if the throat is sore only and no croup, leave out the Spongia.   Be careful to keep the mouth closed and breathe through the nose when out of doors.  I hope you will soon be better.

Julia Jefferson Espy’s Funeral Cortege, 1901

Interestingly, Julia seldom used the word “Mother” in any of its forms to sign the weekly letters to her children.  Occasionally, she did use “Mama” but even that was followed  using her full name, “J. A. Espy.”  And, if she had not included specific health news about any of the family members, her final line before closing was, “We are as usual.”

 

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One of the hardest parts…

Thursday, April 21st, 2022

Last week and this have been non-stop appointments for Nyel — all the medical, dental, and you-name-it-health-related folks wanting to weigh in on his status, needs, unkept appointments, new prescriptions, etc. etc. that you might imagine after his recent four weeks in the hospital.  We are both exhausted.

As it is with everything in life, each expert or professional considers that they are the ONLY one he needs to see.  It reminds me a lot of high school homework.  Every teacher seemed to consider that he or she was the only one who was giving you an assignment and god forbid you complain.  Especially if it was Mr. Dressier, the chemistry teacher, who might double the amount just because…

Mostly, we are both tired.  Today we tried to nap after lunch, only to be interrupted by a phone call from Dr. Trusted’s assistant wanting to change Nyel’s meds based on yesterday’s lab tests.  Unfortunately, the change would put him back to  a combination that landed him in the hospital in March.  Even more unfortunately, there don’t seem to be any alternatives left.  But… they are working on it.

Nyel, bless him, went right back to sleep.  That put me in mind of my old classmates who didn’t seem to mind the extra assignments.  (Actually, I think I was one of those.)  What a difference 65 or 70 years make!  But then, I always was cranky if my nap was interrupted…  My mother said that was the reason she quit giving me naps much earlier than most moms.  (My cousins said that’s why I’m so short.)

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It’s been one of those days…

Monday, March 7th, 2022

The afternoon is waning and I’m feeling fretful — as in I’ve been busy all day long, but what exactly have I accomplished?  Nothing to write home about.  Or even to blog about. But some days are like that.

8:00 — Nyel put in a call to Dr. Ego’s cellphone.  She was at her “Sports Club” and would get back to him as soon as she reached her office.

8:30- Left for OBH where Nyel must go two or three times a week for blood work.  Enroute — actually just a spit and a holler away, right in front of the schoolhouse — we watched a mama deer and four offspring (this year’s and last’s) as they chewed their cuds and considered the roofers climbing up to start their final pitch.  We all agreed — the roof looks great!

9:15 — While I waited for Nyel, I called Ardell and did a bit of catching up.  She made a remark about the world situation and wondered how we Peninsula folks would fare if we found all the grocery shelves bare of food.  “Well. I know about some great looking venison-on-the-hoof,” I told her.  “Yeah, but do you have a gun?”  “No, but Nyel does.  Although, I don’t know the legalities of armed men in wheelchairs foraging in the woods of Oysterville…”

10:30 – Nyel put in another call to Dr. Ego.  Went to voicemail.

12:30 – Nyel and Dr. Trusted (of Seattle) had a Zoom call.  He asked good questions, listened carefully, and was reassuring as ever.  Said if at all possible Nyel should get cardioverted in Astoria but if Dr. Ego couldn’t accommodate, they’d see him in Seattle as soon as they could arrange it.

1:00 – 3:30 — Composed a letter to the Head of the Billing Department at OHSU outlining my frustration with their failure to submit our claim to Blue Cross.  (See yesterday’s blog: “It’s the principal of the thing.”)  I sent copies of said letter to the President of OHSU (at friend Steve’s suggestion) as well as to each of the eight Directors who sit on the OHSU Board, as listed on their website.  (They cleverly include no phone numbers.  But we’ve played that hurry-up-and-get-disconnected-game with OHSU before so no matter…

Mid-afternoon-ish – Nyel received a call from Columbia Memorial informing him that they can do his cardioversion (look it up) tomorrow at 2:30; nothing to eat or drink after midnight; etc. etc.  HOORAY!  Perhaps by this time tomorrow he will be back in sinus (normal) rhythm and will begin feeling better.

And suddenly, accomplishments or no accomplishments, I feel very very tired.  And a bit weepy.  Please everybody, keep good thoughts for Nyel.  He says ‘nary a word, never complains, tries so hard not to “be a bother.”  OMG!

 

 

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Dr. Ego Redux

Thursday, March 3rd, 2022

In my mind we were done with Dr. Ego.  As in over and out.  But Nyel did dutifully report to Dr. Trusted — his cardiologist in Seattle who had been hoping that Nyel could find a “back-up” doctor here.  Someone who would be closer in case of an emergency.  Since Dr. Ego had not been contacted directly by Dr. Trusted and we were apparently at a stalemate, Nyel asked Dr. Trusted if he would call.  And yesterday afternoon, apparently, Dr. Trusted talked to Dr. Ego and, in short order, the following things happened:

  • Dr. Trusted’s assistant called Nyel to say that the two doctors had decided that the Astoria hospital was not up to the complications of Nyel’s situation, should he need “back-up” in certain situations.  And, btw, the EKG that Dr. Ego’s team gave Nyel revealed that his heart is no longer in Sinus (normal) rhythm; it is now in A-Fib (Atrial Fibrilation).
  • Dr.Ego’s assistant called Nyel and said that she wanted him to increase the amount of a certain meditation to 5 milliequivalents  daily.  I heard only Nyel’s  response:  I already take 600 milliequivalents of that med every day!” (Did he raise his voice just a tad?)  And when the assistant said she’d check back with Dr. Ego, Nyel said (and, this time, definitely in an elevated tone) “And would you ask her why no one bothered to tell me that I am in A-fib???” 
  • Wonder of wonders, Dr. Ego, herself, soon called and said that the assistant had gotten the meds mixed up — it was this med not that med. (Isn’t there something about a professional taking the blame for the mistakes of their worker-bees and NOT passing the buck?)  And, the reason, Dr. Ego claimed, that she had not mentioned that Nyel was in A-fib was because he had been in A-Fib before.  SAY WHAT???

So, by that logic, if a test revealed that the patient had cancer and if he had suffered from cancer in the past, the doctor would not bother to mention it the new situation????   And why was she still trying to dink around with his meds if she can’t be his back-up doctor (at least not all of the time) because the hospital isn’t up to it (in at least certain situations)????

I really have no more words on this subject…

 

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Where is that damned fairy godmother?

Thursday, March 4th, 2021

Yesterday Nyel and I — sometimes separately and sometimes together — spent seven f***ing hours on the telephone trying to solve Cinderella’s broken heart.  First we spoke with her Mother Ship; then with the Mother Ship’s Controller.  That took three hours.  They needed us to find out some information about our modem and its firewalls.  That required several phone calls to CenturyLink who was the supplier of our Modem and our internet service.  Need I say more?  But… just in case you don’t realize… here in the greater downtown rural center of things, CenturyLink is the only show in town landline-wise , and for medical reasons – see below — we need the landline.

Proudly CenturyLink’s robotic voice told us how they are completely automated now but… if we needed to talk to a representative, just say “representative” at any time.  I cannot even begin to tell you how many different responses that got us — including several complete hang-ups,  a robotic question “I understand you want to speak with a representative” followed by several more minutes of automated voice and THEN a hang-up.  ad-nauseum.

When we finally got a live CenturyLink voice and told her our problem, she asked a number of questions about our question — as in what exactly did we need to know about the firewalls (which we had already told her) and why did we need to know etc. etc.  We answered each question to the best of our ability — several times.  Finally, after more due deliberation, she said, “Your modem does not have any firewalls.”  “Then why,” asked my ever-patient husband, “are the Roomba people asking us to find out about them?”  Would you believe… another hang up!

At one point, I was on hold with my faithful cell phone, hearing over and over and yet again over, “Your call is very important to us.”  After forty-four minutes and constant repeats of my call’s importance, they hung up. Apparently the call wasn’t THAT important.

Cinderella Stuck on her Home Base

We would cut our CenturyLink connection in a nano-second but Nyel’s daily CardioMems* report is sent each morning via our landline.  CenturyLink is the only show in town.  And that report, literally, is a lifeline for him.  Need I tell you how very scary it is that said lifeline depends upon CenturyLink?  I wonder if there are T Shirts that say Rural Lives Matter.  Probably not.  And, in case you are wondering, Cinderella’s problem has not yet been fixed.  Actually… not even diagnosed as far as we can tell.  But then, after 24 hours, our internet access is still intermittent so perhaps the Fairy Godmother hasn’t been able to wave her magic wand yet…

*A CardioMEMS device is implanted in Nyel’s pulmonary artery via a short, femoral vein access cath procedure. It measures changes in pulmonary artery pressure, which are a surrogate measure for fluid retention in the lungs due to worsening heart failure conditions.

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“Dr. Day” and “Dr. Night” (so to speak)…

Friday, July 12th, 2019

Drizzly Dawn on Willapa Bay

Two long days this week.  Tuesday we went up to Seattle to see Nyel’s cardiologist — his first face-to-face with him since before that horrible six-week hospital stay in April/May/June.  The first visit since he became a really-o, truly-o invalid (in body though not in mind or spirit.)  Thursday we went to Portland to see the orthopedic surgeon who (though not by intent) was responsible for Nyel’s current status.  The days and the doctor visits couldn’t have been more different.  Day and night you might say.

Tuesday we left home at seven, a drizzly dawn that didn’t get much better weather-wise all day.  Actually worse in places along the I-5.  To leave that early meant we had to get up at four.  One of the realities of the invalid life is the time it takes to do all the required medical “stuff” — requirements that we feel we do well to complete in two hours.  That gave us another hour for Nyel to eat breakfast and pack a lunch while I showered. dressed, and packed the car.  Wheelchair, check.  Nyel’s meds, check.  Urinals, check.  Etc. etc.

EKG – Heart (not Nyel’s) in Sinus Rhythm

We got to the UW Medical Center in time for Nyel to have labs done before his appointment.  And an EKG.  The doctor listened attentively to Nyel’s “story” though he was already well-acquainted with most of it through the magic of shared medical information on the internet.  He laughed in delight at the EKG results — “You’re in sinus rhythm!” he said.  He said it again and again, continuing to smile from ear to ear.  Not that Nyel has any control over that particular aspect of things… but we felt like he was getting full credit.  It’s a first in years… maybe getting rid of the pacemaker was a good thing?  Hard to tell.  An upbeat, forward-looking visit all the way around.  Home at 11 p.m.  Quick dinner.  Bed and the sleep of the righteous.

Yesterday we left at eight so were able to get up at our usual time and even did an errand on our way through Seaside.  (Dropped off Music in the Garden tickets to friends Paul and Lana Jane.)  Although it was drizzly to begin with, by the time we arrived in Portland it was sunny and hot.  Thank goodness for the car’s A/C.

Nyel’s Left “Hip”

This time, the offices to which we were directed were in Beaverton — very toney and upscale as opposed to the offices off Barnes Road where we went in June.  The Dr. was cordial, wanted to see what range of motion Nyel had been working on but he did not want to see the wound.  “Our nurse is eager for you to say whether or not I can get rid of the wound-vac,” Nyel said.  “Oh, if she is a wound care nurse she’ll know,” he said.

A discussion ensued.  It was obvious he wasn’t planning to examine Nyel but finally suggested that the nurse take a photo and email it to him.  (Like we drove into Portland for that bit of wisdom?)  He said there was no need of an X-ray this time either but Nyel insisted.  “I’ve never seen an X-ray of this hip,” Nyel said.  “I don’t know what’s there now that the ball and socket and four inches of femur are gone.”

After considerable thought the doctor said, “Gristle.  Just gristle.”

Great “bedside manner,” eh?  We were both totally bummed.  What a difference in doctors!  Day and night!

 

 

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“Stop! Smell The Roses! Give Yourself A++!”

Thursday, May 23rd, 2019
Flowers From Dave and Stephanie

Flowerrs from Dave and Stephanie

Day 27 — Stephanie and Dave’s flowers arrived just at the right time.  It was mid-morning and Nyel had just endured two heavy-duty procedures.  He was in pain despite two IV doses of morphine, but was ready to “relax” for the rest of the day — relax and smell the roses!

Before eight o’clock the Occupational Therapist had come in.  Goal: to stand up from a sitting-on-bed-edge-with-feet dangling.  He struggled mightily and got oh-so-close.  “A+” said the OT lady!  Next she had him transfer to the Sara Stedy, sit on Sara’s seat, and scoot himself back onto the bed.  Mission accomplished.  She said what he had done was “huge.”  Nyel’s eyes told me he was underwhelmed but I had seen how hard he worked and what the cost had been.  “A++!” I say.

Then, in came four Women in White — the Nurse, the Infectious Disease Person, the Orthopedic PA, and the Wound Care Person.  The Nurse was here to help; the Wound Care Person was here to change the dressing; the other two were here to observe, although they also helped as needed.  It was hard to watch Nyel’s suffering but he said not a word — just lots of breathing in through the nose, out through the mouth as he has been instructed.

The Wound (On His Left Thigh)

I did manage to get a few pictures and, when all was said and done, I asked the Wound Care Person what she thought.  (They are watching for more infection and if they suspect any, he will need to have the site opened up for the fourth time!)  They are looking for redness, unexpected seepage, etc.  She was reassuring — thought it looked good, although there is redness that bears watching. The wound will be re-dressed on Tuesday.

So… there you have it.  Roses and lilacs and carnations and sweet peas and roses some more.  And he even ate some of his lunch!  Bit by bit, some progress is being made!  Now, if only they would re-start his blood thinners, I might sleep better, myself.

 

 

 

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