The brain and lumbar CT Scans are over and so is the blood panel. All done on the same day and quickly. She mangled my arm looking for a likely spot to draw the blood from so my arm is a bruised mess. Then back to the scanning room and did the CT Scans. All in all it was very quick and easy. Which was a relief.
Then yesterday right after Terry left for work, I felt weird. So I took my blood pressure. It was 88/46. Okay, that is scary time. And I couldn’t stay awake long enough to form a coherent thought. So I called Terry to come home and fell back asleep. When he got here and woke me again, it was just as low if not lower. So I asked for a huge glass of tomato juice with lots of salt in it. I like it this way anyway so I wasn’t upset at the supposed cure. I drank it and half of another. Terry took off to hurry through the grocery store and I took my morning pills being careful not to take a blood pressure pill.
And then it hit me. This puzzle I am locked into right now. It explained a lot and for the life of me (no pun intended) I can’t see how to remedy it, maybe you can. The quadruple meds for water retention and the potassium that goes with it is doing it’s job nicely – removing it from the leg. However the leg is still swollen hard but the rest of me is getting skinny. The water leaving is lowering my blood pressure while the water I retained was keeping the BP at a normal level. It’s a catch 22. If I leave the dangerous water, the BP is normal but there is a high chance of losing my leg. And if I drain that water off to remove the danger of bad things happening to the leg, then the BP drops like a stone which could be life threatening on the other end. I wonder what the doctor will come up with to solve the puzzle? What do you think is the answer?
I will check back later…
Write about your strongest memory of heart-pounding belly-twisting nervousness: what caused the adrenaline? Was it justified? How did you respond?
Ahhh, this one is easy. We were living in a nice duplex so close to the white sandy beach that we could hear the waves crashing in on the shore. I had been injured on the job and so I was home alone that afternoon when I walked from the kitchen through the living room….uh oh, wait. I was stopped right in the middle of the living room by a sight that makes my heart step up the pace just to remember it. We had tile floors due to the fact that carpets don’t fare too well this close to all of that white sand. And throw rugs were scattered here and there, Right smack in the center of one of my nice throw rugs lay an 8 foot long snake. I’m sure it only looked 8 ft. long to me who was just on the verge of hyper-ventilating. The truth of the matter is, it was probably closer to 2 feet long or less. A snake is a snake however and now my mind frantically searched for the answer to “what do I do now? I want him outside not in and no way do I want him taking off for hiding places leaving me to never sleep again for fear that he would crawl in bed with me.”
I frantically searched my brain for an answer when I turned around quickly and spotted the dust mop sitting in the laundry area. I slowly side stepped over to it and grabbed the handle. Everything was done in slow motion so as not to scare the snake. Slooowly I pushed the dust mop toward the rug prepared at any second for a slithering snake and screams from me. It touched the rug and he looked at it, then up at me. I crooned softly like singing to a baby to calm it and gently pushed. The rug had no non skid backing so it moved silently and slowly across the tile toward the front door. I couldn’t believe that he still laid there quietly looking around as if he were enjoying the ride. My heart in my throat, I knew the hardest part was still ahead when I had to stop and open the door. We had no screen door so that was a plus, but I just knew when I opened the door to the hot outside he was going to be off that rug in a flash and hiding somewhere out of sight.
I slowly reached out for the handle to the door and still he watched me. My crooning became more of a raspy croak as my throat tightened while I opened the door very slowly. He actually turned his head and looked outside. Knowing this was my only chance before he flew back into the cool living room, I pushed with all my might and out of the door flew rug, snake and dust mop. I slammed the door shut and just shook in my bare feet for about a minute and a half before moving on rubbery legs to my recliner and plopping down in it. A huge smile broke out on my face and I began to laugh remembering how I gave a snake a ride and he seemed to enjoy it. I just don’t want to do it again, that’s all. 🙂
Please keep all comments in here and off of the public pages. I not only want to make it easier for those who are interested to see how things are going, but to more or less keep it out of the public view for awhile at least. Thanks for being understanding!
I am really concerned that we have “improved” our medical care just a little too much. Being whipped back and forth and just when you think you are making headway, boom. Then no you aren’t. It gets old and tiring. A good friend of mine stated that we do have to work on figuring it out ourselves since they are not making headway.
I find myself telling them things to help them figure it out…like I have fallen 4 times in the last 24 hrs. He says…you did?:!” Yes I did and I don’t know if it’s connected to the diabetes or something else. “Hmmmm” he says and then immediately goes back to telling me now much insulin, when, etc. and that in three weeks we should have this under control. Grrrrrrrrrrrrr.
My thought is that like the title alludes to, where are all the doctors of yesterday who weren’t specialists? Where are those doctors who didn’t concentrate on just one thing but the entire treasure trove of information and clues as to what is wrong with someone. There is no real overview for specialists even though they are faxed patient’s charts to see what they are being treated for, and unlike the old family doctor who knew that person and their families for most if not all of our lives. They have the complete overview, the full story of who you are and what you are prone to in medical or pharmaceutical treatments. And therefore have a better understanding of what might be building to a head in you. I guess all we can do is hope for the best.
She’ll be ridin’ 5 white horses when she comes… Ah would that life could be so sweet once more to be riding round that mountain. And on 5 white horses no less. Possibly even her Stallion who was a beautiful dappled grey, with is coat shimmering in the early morning light and his hot breath trailing in spirals upward while he awaits his Mistress’ call.
He looked forward to these morning runs, they cleaned thinking, released endorfins and forged a further bond between Mistress and horse. As she appeared around the copse of trees on the far side of the pasture, he snorted loudly and raced to her side. soon she would be off and racing madly through the hills that formed her Father’s estate, secure in the knowledge that Mistress and horse were as one.
Well, that was a nice daydream but all too soon we have to head back to that tortuous place called “reality”. Which means that… Tomorrow I am set up to go to an orthopedic surgeon who will dispense a big ol’ shot in the knee. My common sense tells me this could and probably will be extremely painful and will cause much lip biting to hold back the blue air response to the administering of said SHOT! There, that’s over. The local evening PCB news will print the results of the day for you tomorrow night.