Just a quick update on my mother-in-law's condition. Thank you for the kind, supportive comments.
***Some of this may be too much for sensitive stomachs, so feel free to stop reading. I'll try not to be too gross, since I'm a bit of a weenie myself when it comes to yucky stuff. And I thought I was going to be a doctor. Pfffttt.***
MIL was scheduled to have a preliminary treatment at the radiology clinic (called a "block" treatment??) today AND a follow-up appointment with her surgeon, but we took her to the emergency room last night and she is still in the hospital.
When Hubby and I returned from our short day trip to the casino, my sister-in-law reported that her mother was vomiting blood. I had my doubts, but she DID appear weak and had been vomiting pretty steadily all day and all night. She was naturally weak and in a good deal of pain.
You know how trips to the emergency room go. Mostly you sit around and wait. The nurses and other staff members were VERY nice (which has not always been my experience) and accommodating. The ER doctor said the substance MIL was vomiting was probably NOT blood, but cola-colored stuff that often comes up when the stomach has been empty for a while. BUT she was concerned about the fact that MIL hadn't had anything substantial to eat or drink for the last couple of days, so the first thing they wanted to do was start an I.V.
The first thing took about three hours to get done. And I'm not faulting the ER personnel; I realize there is a protocol for how things get done and when. Especially since MIL's primary physician just happened to be on a returning flight from India and couldn't be reached until this morning. (Every time he goes to India, MIL gets sick. He's not allowed to go there anymore, I don't care if it WAS to fetch his 91-year-old father.)
The bottom line is that they still don't know a heck of a lot. MIL's primary doctor came in this morning, and he seems to think it COULD be blood that she was vomiting, so he has ordered a scope of her G.I. system. Only they couldn't schedule it for today, so it's on tap for tomorrow. The doctor thinks she may have a bleeding ulcer, but I don't know if he's just ruling things out or if he has reason to believe that for sure. He's been treating MIL for 30 years or more, so they know each other pretty well.
Hubby and I sat at the hospital with her for most of the day today, and SIL was on her way when we left. MIL also has a TERRIBLE bed sore (right in her crack - ouch) that I thought we had managed to clear up, but SIL says it returned after this latest surgery. Surely they won't send her home until it's healed ... will they?
And I wanted to write tonight about men (at least Hubby) and their responses to crises/pain/illness when it concerns people they love, but I am just too bone tired. Don't worry, I'm not going to bash them.
Thank you for your continued friendship and support. I love you all.
Showing posts with label doctor. Show all posts
Showing posts with label doctor. Show all posts
Thursday, October 4, 2012
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
The Doctor is In....Wait....Not....
One of my students came to me yesterday, obviously distressed. She is participating in a weight loss/healthy choices challenge at our school, and she was apparently dismayed to learn that she weighs FIFTY-THREE more pounds than she thought she did.
Of particular concern, though, was her blood pressure, which she said was 146/100. I agreed that was alarming, particularly the bottom number. We discussed some changes she could make, small ones that she could actually put into practice, both to treat the blood pressure and to help her lose weight. I encouraged her to pick very specific things (walk 30 minutes a day rather than "exercise more") and not try to cut out every single bad food all at once.
We talked for a few minutes, and I think I succeeded in making her feel better. As we were wrapping up the conversation, she thanked me and said, "I couldn't even concentrate on my work. I told myself I had to go talk to Dr. [Bragger]."
Holy mother of all that's good.
I hope she doesn't think I'm THAT kind of doctor.
Of particular concern, though, was her blood pressure, which she said was 146/100. I agreed that was alarming, particularly the bottom number. We discussed some changes she could make, small ones that she could actually put into practice, both to treat the blood pressure and to help her lose weight. I encouraged her to pick very specific things (walk 30 minutes a day rather than "exercise more") and not try to cut out every single bad food all at once.
We talked for a few minutes, and I think I succeeded in making her feel better. As we were wrapping up the conversation, she thanked me and said, "I couldn't even concentrate on my work. I told myself I had to go talk to Dr. [Bragger]."
Holy mother of all that's good.
I hope she doesn't think I'm THAT kind of doctor.
Monday, December 5, 2011
Insurance....Yuck....
I hate dealing with insurance. Car insurance, house insurance, medical insurance, life insurance, all of it just makes my head spin. I don't understand a lot of it, and because I don't understand it, I feel stupid, and if there's anything I hate in this world, it's feeling stupid.
I don't know if it's the same everywhere, but in our county the open enrollment for insurance is a big old pain in the butt. And it changes every year. A couple of times they sent a representative out to meet with each and every employee just to make sure we clicked all the clicks and checked all the checks and boxed all the boxes. This year we had to go it alone, but it seemed a fairly simple process. I did mine early (like always), but there was a wave of panic as the deadline approached. Then the system crashed, the deadline was extended, and I ignored most of those emails. Then we got an email saying that even if we thought we had finished the enrollment we might not have done everything required, and I got paranoid. I emailed our secretary and asked her how we would know, and she said they would send a follow-up email and she would let us know.
I never heard anything, and I confirmed (at least to myself) that I had printed two different confirmations. But I still worried (am still worrying) that I might have made a mistake and both Hubby and I would be without insurance for the coming year. Maybe it's because in the past Hubby has provided his own insurance, but now that he's retired it's all on me.
Hubby and I have to fill out an online health survey in order to get some extra money put in our flexible spending account. And since I just had to pay one-half of an almost-thousand-dollar crown (in my mouth, not on my head where it belongs), I need all the flexible spending dollars I can get. The online health survey was a challenge all by itself! First I couldn't figure out how to set up a profile for Hubby, so I called Customer Service rather than get frustrated. Naturally as soon as I had a real live human being on the phone, it worked beautifully and I felt stupid. Again.
I had to start taking medicine to lower my cholesterol, and it's expensive. But I got a handy-dandy little $4 copay card from my doctor, which lowered my cost to only $61.76!!!! I'm not exactly sure where the $4 comes in. I called the pharmaceutical company, and they said there is a cap of $50 on that card, which they paid, otherwise I would have had to pay $111.76. What a bargain! It makes no senses to me whatsoever.
Don't even get me started on deductibles, copay amounts, allowed expenses, and all that jazz.
I need another college degree just to figure out the insurance needs in my household. I'd rather do our income taxes every single month than deal with insurance.
Maybe I should have chosen a less stress-inducing blog topic. I have to go to the doctor tomorrow.
I don't know if it's the same everywhere, but in our county the open enrollment for insurance is a big old pain in the butt. And it changes every year. A couple of times they sent a representative out to meet with each and every employee just to make sure we clicked all the clicks and checked all the checks and boxed all the boxes. This year we had to go it alone, but it seemed a fairly simple process. I did mine early (like always), but there was a wave of panic as the deadline approached. Then the system crashed, the deadline was extended, and I ignored most of those emails. Then we got an email saying that even if we thought we had finished the enrollment we might not have done everything required, and I got paranoid. I emailed our secretary and asked her how we would know, and she said they would send a follow-up email and she would let us know.
I never heard anything, and I confirmed (at least to myself) that I had printed two different confirmations. But I still worried (am still worrying) that I might have made a mistake and both Hubby and I would be without insurance for the coming year. Maybe it's because in the past Hubby has provided his own insurance, but now that he's retired it's all on me.
Hubby and I have to fill out an online health survey in order to get some extra money put in our flexible spending account. And since I just had to pay one-half of an almost-thousand-dollar crown (in my mouth, not on my head where it belongs), I need all the flexible spending dollars I can get. The online health survey was a challenge all by itself! First I couldn't figure out how to set up a profile for Hubby, so I called Customer Service rather than get frustrated. Naturally as soon as I had a real live human being on the phone, it worked beautifully and I felt stupid. Again.
I had to start taking medicine to lower my cholesterol, and it's expensive. But I got a handy-dandy little $4 copay card from my doctor, which lowered my cost to only $61.76!!!! I'm not exactly sure where the $4 comes in. I called the pharmaceutical company, and they said there is a cap of $50 on that card, which they paid, otherwise I would have had to pay $111.76. What a bargain! It makes no senses to me whatsoever.
Don't even get me started on deductibles, copay amounts, allowed expenses, and all that jazz.
I need another college degree just to figure out the insurance needs in my household. I'd rather do our income taxes every single month than deal with insurance.
Maybe I should have chosen a less stress-inducing blog topic. I have to go to the doctor tomorrow.
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
A Tale of Two Doctors.....
This is a tale of two doctors.... only they happen to be the same woman.
Subtitle: I love it when I'm right.
Three months ago, I had some paraphrased version of the conversation below with my doctor. She looks about twelve years old, is cute and perky, and has never criticized me for my weight. Those are some of the reasons I love her. I think I was one of her early patients, which meant in the early days I could talk her into anything. She has wised up over the years.
Me: At what point could we think about changing my blood pressure medication, possibly even discontinuing it?
Doc: Oh no, we don't usually do that. Once you start the medication, blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah. What makes you think you should change it? Or discontinue it?
Me: Well, my blood pressure has been pretty low recently. Plus I've lost some weight....
Doc [Interrupting, which I'm pretty sure they're taught in med school not to do]: You've weighed ___, ____, ____, ____, and ____. We don't like to make changes in medication based on a single reading.
Me [Resisting the urge to scream "That's what your colleague did when you were out on maternity leave for the gazillionth time!"]: Oh.
We went back and forth some, and she (reluctantly) agreed to split my combo medication into two separate ones and allow me to discontinue ONE of them if my blood pressure remained low. She also said I had to come back in three months instead of the customary six, which Hubby claims is just an attempt by medical professionals to pad their incomes. I discontinued the medication the doc told me I could, the dizzy spells stopped immediately, and I began tracking my blood pressure religiously. Some might even say fanatically.
Fast forward to today. I present the doctor with a printout of my recorded blood pressure readings for the last three months. She nods, murmurs a little bit, then says she'll be right back with my lab reports and some exercises for my (still) aching hips.
When she comes back, she is almost exuberant. "Wow, you've lost 11 more pounds since you were here three months ago. Keep this up, and you may be able to stop the blood pressure medication altogether."
Huh? Didn't I say that back in March? Didn't she almost castigate me for suggesting the possibility?
And then I discover the real reason for her exuberance.
"Your cholesterol is high," she says.
Butthead. Just had to have the last (negative) word.
Subtitle: I love it when I'm right.
Three months ago, I had some paraphrased version of the conversation below with my doctor. She looks about twelve years old, is cute and perky, and has never criticized me for my weight. Those are some of the reasons I love her. I think I was one of her early patients, which meant in the early days I could talk her into anything. She has wised up over the years.
Me: At what point could we think about changing my blood pressure medication, possibly even discontinuing it?
Doc: Oh no, we don't usually do that. Once you start the medication, blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah. What makes you think you should change it? Or discontinue it?
Me: Well, my blood pressure has been pretty low recently. Plus I've lost some weight....
Doc [Interrupting, which I'm pretty sure they're taught in med school not to do]: You've weighed ___, ____, ____, ____, and ____. We don't like to make changes in medication based on a single reading.
Me [Resisting the urge to scream "That's what your colleague did when you were out on maternity leave for the gazillionth time!"]: Oh.
We went back and forth some, and she (reluctantly) agreed to split my combo medication into two separate ones and allow me to discontinue ONE of them if my blood pressure remained low. She also said I had to come back in three months instead of the customary six, which Hubby claims is just an attempt by medical professionals to pad their incomes. I discontinued the medication the doc told me I could, the dizzy spells stopped immediately, and I began tracking my blood pressure religiously. Some might even say fanatically.
Fast forward to today. I present the doctor with a printout of my recorded blood pressure readings for the last three months. She nods, murmurs a little bit, then says she'll be right back with my lab reports and some exercises for my (still) aching hips.
When she comes back, she is almost exuberant. "Wow, you've lost 11 more pounds since you were here three months ago. Keep this up, and you may be able to stop the blood pressure medication altogether."
Huh? Didn't I say that back in March? Didn't she almost castigate me for suggesting the possibility?
And then I discover the real reason for her exuberance.
"Your cholesterol is high," she says.
Butthead. Just had to have the last (negative) word.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Is There a Doctor in the House.........?
I found out today that my gynecologist is retiring at the end of this year. Don't worry ... I'm not going to go into any details about ob/gyn exams or appointments.
I'm not really SURPRISED that he's retiring. He is turning 70 this year, and his SON is now in practice with him. (Why did it creep me out when I had an urgent need to see a doctor one time and I had to see my regular doctor's son?)
I have been seeing this doctor (mostly - more on that in a minute) since I was 22 years old. I actually went to him once when I was about 14 or 15. My mother was a patient of his, and I was having terrible trouble with my periods. Mom took me in to talk to him, and I remember him saying to Mom, "Well you know, there is one option....."
"Absolutely not," my mother replied with her mouth set in that thin, hard line. Nice girls did not take birth control pills, even if they were for reasons other than preventing pregnancy.
I don't remember if he had any other suggestions or what advice he gave Mom and me, but I do remember that after that visit, my periods regulated themselves and were bearable. I always thought he was a true Miracle Worker because all he did was talk to me.
He's very old-fashioned, and perhaps it's time for him to retire. I haven't seen him all that much for the past several years because I have been seeing the nurse practitioner in their office. My doctor was all booked up one year when it was time for my yearly appointment, so I had to see the nurse practitioner.
I. ADORE. HER.
It's not just because she's female and can obviously relate to my problems better than the doc. It's not just that she's overweight herself and so has never, ever criticized me for my weight. It's not just that I saw her the week my Sweet Girl broke my heart three years ago, and she offered me something to help me sleep (I declined), but that she REMEMBERS it and always asks how we are doing.
It's that while I'm in her office, I can pretend I'm the only patient she has. We talk about life, she thinks it's very cool that I ride a bicycle and a motorcycle, and we laugh. I called her yesterday with a question, left a voice mail, and do you know what?
SHE. CALLED. ME. BACK.
She even said in the course of our conversation that it seemed all her favorite patients had called her this week (more on that in a minute). She might have said that to forty people, but it still felt good for her to say it to me. "I'm one of her favorites." Wow. Even at forty-nine, I still want the star on my homework paper.
She advised me (wisely) on what I had called her about, told me about my regular doc retiring this year, and then she dropped the bombshell.
She's leaving too.
I got teary-eyed, like my best friend in middle school was moving across the country.
She has an offer to teach nursing at the Medical College of Georgia, and she said she just couldn't turn it down. If my interactions with her are any indication, she will be an excellent teacher. The selfish part of me, though, wishes it didn't have to be at my expense.
In a way I guess it has its advantages. I have kept going to that group of doctors even though it is 30-40 minutes from home, mainly because of her. Now I will be able to find a doctor much closer to home, and making regular appointments won't be quite so much of a hassle. I may even be able to find a doctor who is not in one of those mega-practices that make me feel like a cow being herded through the chute.
When she was talking to me today, she said she told her husband that hearing from so many of her favorite patients this very week made her feel like maybe she was making the wrong decision. He said maybe it was just so we got a chance to say goodbye.
I like his take on it.
I'm not really SURPRISED that he's retiring. He is turning 70 this year, and his SON is now in practice with him. (Why did it creep me out when I had an urgent need to see a doctor one time and I had to see my regular doctor's son?)
I have been seeing this doctor (mostly - more on that in a minute) since I was 22 years old. I actually went to him once when I was about 14 or 15. My mother was a patient of his, and I was having terrible trouble with my periods. Mom took me in to talk to him, and I remember him saying to Mom, "Well you know, there is one option....."
"Absolutely not," my mother replied with her mouth set in that thin, hard line. Nice girls did not take birth control pills, even if they were for reasons other than preventing pregnancy.
I don't remember if he had any other suggestions or what advice he gave Mom and me, but I do remember that after that visit, my periods regulated themselves and were bearable. I always thought he was a true Miracle Worker because all he did was talk to me.
He's very old-fashioned, and perhaps it's time for him to retire. I haven't seen him all that much for the past several years because I have been seeing the nurse practitioner in their office. My doctor was all booked up one year when it was time for my yearly appointment, so I had to see the nurse practitioner.
I. ADORE. HER.
It's not just because she's female and can obviously relate to my problems better than the doc. It's not just that she's overweight herself and so has never, ever criticized me for my weight. It's not just that I saw her the week my Sweet Girl broke my heart three years ago, and she offered me something to help me sleep (I declined), but that she REMEMBERS it and always asks how we are doing.
It's that while I'm in her office, I can pretend I'm the only patient she has. We talk about life, she thinks it's very cool that I ride a bicycle and a motorcycle, and we laugh. I called her yesterday with a question, left a voice mail, and do you know what?
SHE. CALLED. ME. BACK.
She even said in the course of our conversation that it seemed all her favorite patients had called her this week (more on that in a minute). She might have said that to forty people, but it still felt good for her to say it to me. "I'm one of her favorites." Wow. Even at forty-nine, I still want the star on my homework paper.
She advised me (wisely) on what I had called her about, told me about my regular doc retiring this year, and then she dropped the bombshell.
She's leaving too.
I got teary-eyed, like my best friend in middle school was moving across the country.
She has an offer to teach nursing at the Medical College of Georgia, and she said she just couldn't turn it down. If my interactions with her are any indication, she will be an excellent teacher. The selfish part of me, though, wishes it didn't have to be at my expense.
In a way I guess it has its advantages. I have kept going to that group of doctors even though it is 30-40 minutes from home, mainly because of her. Now I will be able to find a doctor much closer to home, and making regular appointments won't be quite so much of a hassle. I may even be able to find a doctor who is not in one of those mega-practices that make me feel like a cow being herded through the chute.
When she was talking to me today, she said she told her husband that hearing from so many of her favorite patients this very week made her feel like maybe she was making the wrong decision. He said maybe it was just so we got a chance to say goodbye.
I like his take on it.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Gotta Love a Two-Day Week....
My favorite kind of work week: a Monday and a Friday. Well, not really, but it seemed like it. We even got to wear jeans today, since it was the last day before the long Thanksgiving weekend. We didn't actually get permission to wear jeans, but we did and we're still employed, so there.
I am definitely NOT a day-after-Thanksgiving shopper. I just saw a commercial on television that I could have saved $50 on the GPS I got for Sweet Girl's Christmas present (don't worry, even though she has the link, she wouldn't be caught dead reading her mom's blog) if only I were willing to show up at 5:00 AM Friday morning. That ain't happening. Oh I don't mind getting up that early. I frequently get up earlier than I have to on days when I don't have to go to school. Last Friday, when I played hooky? I was up at 5:45.
And Friday I will be in a state of high excitement, looking forward to the wealth of college football games from which to choose over the weekend. But I am not going to battle the traffic, the crowds, and the crazies just to save $50. Or $100. I apologize if I just called you a crazy. I'm just sayin'.
I don't have any more refills on my blood pressure medicine, so it's time for my twice-yearly visit to my friendly GP, whom I like a lot even if she DOES appear to be about 12 years old. And she keeps going on maternity leave, which means I have to see the doctor in that practice whom hubby is fond of but I CAN'T STAND. I called the office today for an appointment, expecting to make an appointment for early in December. The friendly receptionist asked if I could come in on November 28th at 11:40. Glancing at my calendar, I realized I wouldn't be in school that day, so that would be perfect.
Only after I hung up did I realize what I had done. Scheduled a doctor's appointment for the day after Thanksgiving. The day when I try very hard not to leave the house. I usually put up the Christmas tree and decorate it while I overdose on college football. Hubby either works or plays golf (or both, he's extremely talented that way), so the day is mine. I don't have to put on a bra or make-up or anything other than sweats.
Usually.
A doctor's appointment the day after Thanksgiving. What was I thinking? Hop right up here on this scale, lady.
I am definitely NOT a day-after-Thanksgiving shopper. I just saw a commercial on television that I could have saved $50 on the GPS I got for Sweet Girl's Christmas present (don't worry, even though she has the link, she wouldn't be caught dead reading her mom's blog) if only I were willing to show up at 5:00 AM Friday morning. That ain't happening. Oh I don't mind getting up that early. I frequently get up earlier than I have to on days when I don't have to go to school. Last Friday, when I played hooky? I was up at 5:45.
And Friday I will be in a state of high excitement, looking forward to the wealth of college football games from which to choose over the weekend. But I am not going to battle the traffic, the crowds, and the crazies just to save $50. Or $100. I apologize if I just called you a crazy. I'm just sayin'.
I don't have any more refills on my blood pressure medicine, so it's time for my twice-yearly visit to my friendly GP, whom I like a lot even if she DOES appear to be about 12 years old. And she keeps going on maternity leave, which means I have to see the doctor in that practice whom hubby is fond of but I CAN'T STAND. I called the office today for an appointment, expecting to make an appointment for early in December. The friendly receptionist asked if I could come in on November 28th at 11:40. Glancing at my calendar, I realized I wouldn't be in school that day, so that would be perfect.
Only after I hung up did I realize what I had done. Scheduled a doctor's appointment for the day after Thanksgiving. The day when I try very hard not to leave the house. I usually put up the Christmas tree and decorate it while I overdose on college football. Hubby either works or plays golf (or both, he's extremely talented that way), so the day is mine. I don't have to put on a bra or make-up or anything other than sweats.
Usually.
A doctor's appointment the day after Thanksgiving. What was I thinking? Hop right up here on this scale, lady.
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