I hurt my back nearly a year ago and it has never healed. More recently it has become more serious. I can't bend, squat, or lift anything that's heavy without hurting myself. You don't realize how much your back does for you until it's not working right. Sitting, standing, walking, and sleeping for long periods have become incredibly painful activities.
As a result of all this pain, I've had to go on disability leave. So far I've been off of work for about a week and a half and it didn't really click until today (as I was filling out the FMLA paperwork to protect my job) that I don't know when I'm going to be better. There is a space on the form for 'expected return to work date' and I don't know when that's going to be. Life is miserable right now, the pain meds I have aren't controlling the pain. And even though I have this large bulk of time off, I am physically unable to do anything more strenuous than a light walk in the park. I don't know when I'm going back to work or when/if my back is going to get better...and it's freaking me out.
I kept rehashing these same thoughts over and over. I couldn't find anyone to talk to, so I was dealing with this by myself. I got all teary...I'm not sure why. Maybe it's just the thought that for the first time ever I've done something to my body that's not a quick fix. I'm a girl who only ever takes tylenol and maybe a vitamin, and suddenly I'm on all these meds and my dr. doesn't know when it's going to be fixed.
Ok...it's all out in the open. I am releasing all of these fears and worries into a bubble and blowing them away (ridiculous I know, but fun to visualise). I'm going to do everything I possibly can on my part to get better and deal with whatever the future brings.
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Monday, September 15, 2008
All the pies the eye can see...
New goal in life. I will conquer pies. I just watched the Waitress, and there were so many beautiful pie ideas. Magical delicious pies...cream pies, fruit pies, chocolate pies, ice cream pie, egg pie, meat pie, tons of savory and sweet pies to experiment. So each week a new pie with pics shall appear on my blog. Contain your excitement everyone. It's gonna take a while, since I'm not that great at pie crusts, but I think it'll be fun.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
how long would i live?
For the past two days on the day shift, I have had a new admission/new diagnosis leukemia patient. It's been a while since I've had a day shift new diagnosis. I had forgotten the intense anxiety and just fear that you face every time you walk in the room. For most people especially a leukemia diagnosis, they are just shocked and shocked. Leukemia presents for most people like the flu that lingers and lingers. They usually are misdiagnosed and told to wait it out, and that it'll pass. Then finally someone does a blood test, and they are told to go immediately to the hospital. It's usually healthy people who have never even spent the night in the hospital. The first few days are filled with bone marrow biopsies, lumbar punctures, blood transfusions, x-rays, echos, blood draws, central line placements, chemo, pills, and a gazillion and one people walking into your room with only the slightest of knocks.
It's hard. I had forgotten, being on the night shift, you kinda lose your sense of the experience of a newbie. Night shift is covered by one doc that usually doesn't specialize in hem/onc and definitely doesn't round. People sleep, and occasionally get sick. Lights are turned down, and for the most part you try hard not to wake them when you do your well-fare checks, vital signs and infusions. On the days, you have like 3-4 teams of doctors, nurses and pharmacist rounding on the patients. You have am meds, tests and procedures, visitors, meals, physical therapy, blood, phone calls, managers, and a bunch of other people that you never see during the night shift.
These last few days, I have been reminded. She was so scared that every time I walked in the room, any thing she said she fell into tears. It was hard being her nurse. She and her husband are intense. They want answers that I just didn't have, but at the same time they only wanted to talk to the doctor. They wanted to know what would happen. While all patients have a similar diagnosis, not all their experiences are equal. Some get sicker than others. Some have no problems and breeze through it all. Sometimes the treatment works, and sometimes people die. It's a call that no one can predict, and I definitely don't feel qualified to answer.
There were so many moments that I could write about with this one patient, but the one that sticks out post bone marrow biopsy. I had promised to be there during the procedure, but typical day shift craziness occurred and I was stuck with another patient. By the time I walked into the room, the procedure was over. She is laying on her stomach crying quiet tears and looking completely distressed. The doc is cleaning up. I walk over to her and asks if she would like some pain meds. She says no. She has refused all other pain meds since admission, so I'm not surprised. It does distress me that she wouldn't take anything. I ask if she wants anything, and she grabs me and tells me not to go. I stay but I don't feel like I'm helping. Finally I remember her husband is outside, so I grab him. The doc asks if she's ok. She asks him, "How long would I live if we didn't do anything?"
The room is quiet. The doc responds that she would probably have weeks to months if they did nothing. She says nothing and covers her eyes. The husband replies that they definitely want treatment. There's silence for a minute. And I finally asks what I've been wondering the entire time, and what I had hoped the doc or her husband would have asked after such a loaded question. "What are you thinking?" She replies that she doesn't want to continue if everything is going to be as hard as the bone marrow biopsy.
At this moment, I was kind of shocked. I guess I haven't been in the room when someone was so completely done in at such an early stage. We haven't even begun treatment, only the work-up. She's going to need to stay this admission for at least four weeks following chemo and return for several treatments for months. There are going to probably be worse moments than that biopsy. But this is her life and it is ultimately her decision on whether treatment is continued or not.
After some more talk, she does decide to continue. It's strange how this moment is going to have such a dramatic effect on her life. She decided to try for life, even though the road is going to be hard.
It's hard. I had forgotten, being on the night shift, you kinda lose your sense of the experience of a newbie. Night shift is covered by one doc that usually doesn't specialize in hem/onc and definitely doesn't round. People sleep, and occasionally get sick. Lights are turned down, and for the most part you try hard not to wake them when you do your well-fare checks, vital signs and infusions. On the days, you have like 3-4 teams of doctors, nurses and pharmacist rounding on the patients. You have am meds, tests and procedures, visitors, meals, physical therapy, blood, phone calls, managers, and a bunch of other people that you never see during the night shift.
These last few days, I have been reminded. She was so scared that every time I walked in the room, any thing she said she fell into tears. It was hard being her nurse. She and her husband are intense. They want answers that I just didn't have, but at the same time they only wanted to talk to the doctor. They wanted to know what would happen. While all patients have a similar diagnosis, not all their experiences are equal. Some get sicker than others. Some have no problems and breeze through it all. Sometimes the treatment works, and sometimes people die. It's a call that no one can predict, and I definitely don't feel qualified to answer.
There were so many moments that I could write about with this one patient, but the one that sticks out post bone marrow biopsy. I had promised to be there during the procedure, but typical day shift craziness occurred and I was stuck with another patient. By the time I walked into the room, the procedure was over. She is laying on her stomach crying quiet tears and looking completely distressed. The doc is cleaning up. I walk over to her and asks if she would like some pain meds. She says no. She has refused all other pain meds since admission, so I'm not surprised. It does distress me that she wouldn't take anything. I ask if she wants anything, and she grabs me and tells me not to go. I stay but I don't feel like I'm helping. Finally I remember her husband is outside, so I grab him. The doc asks if she's ok. She asks him, "How long would I live if we didn't do anything?"
The room is quiet. The doc responds that she would probably have weeks to months if they did nothing. She says nothing and covers her eyes. The husband replies that they definitely want treatment. There's silence for a minute. And I finally asks what I've been wondering the entire time, and what I had hoped the doc or her husband would have asked after such a loaded question. "What are you thinking?" She replies that she doesn't want to continue if everything is going to be as hard as the bone marrow biopsy.
At this moment, I was kind of shocked. I guess I haven't been in the room when someone was so completely done in at such an early stage. We haven't even begun treatment, only the work-up. She's going to need to stay this admission for at least four weeks following chemo and return for several treatments for months. There are going to probably be worse moments than that biopsy. But this is her life and it is ultimately her decision on whether treatment is continued or not.
After some more talk, she does decide to continue. It's strange how this moment is going to have such a dramatic effect on her life. She decided to try for life, even though the road is going to be hard.
Sunday, March 30, 2008
'love' in the city
For some reason I have 'love' scheduled into my calendar for March 30th, 2008. I have no recollection of entering this or any idea of what it could mean. There is only a one word entry of 'love' in lower-case, an event that is supposed to last all day. At no other times during the year does 'love' repeat itself, just a single moment that is scheduled in between the 'night shift' and my 'pge bill due'.
I'm not sure what the 'love' entails. Will I meet a boy and fall instantly and madly in love? Or will I be happy and love everyone I meet today? Or will it be connected in any way to the love I feel for the ice cream that I will smuggle out of the frig tonight? So many options, but now that I think about it I'm sure it will be the ice cream scenario.
I'm not sure what the 'love' entails. Will I meet a boy and fall instantly and madly in love? Or will I be happy and love everyone I meet today? Or will it be connected in any way to the love I feel for the ice cream that I will smuggle out of the frig tonight? So many options, but now that I think about it I'm sure it will be the ice cream scenario.
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Angry Muscles
Physical therapy kicked my bootie today. I never knew I had so many muscles and all of them capable of such extreme pain and fatigue. I suppose it's more due to my complete 'out-of-shapeness' than anything else, but I prefer to blame it on PT. Word of advice, never say that an exercise is 'good' or 'easy', because they will take away the easy exercise and give you a friggin hard one.
But I guess you're wondering why PT? Well a few weeks ago I was moving a patient and they started sliding and I attempted to catch them. Bad idea...really, really bad idea. But common sense is completely over-ridden when a patient starts to fall. My brain knows that I should let them fall especially if I can't let help them without hurting myself, but once you see someone start to go you start to think of the low platelets, head injuries, incident reports and staying late to finish it. So now I have these delightful muscle spasms in my low back. Lovely.
But I guess you're wondering why PT? Well a few weeks ago I was moving a patient and they started sliding and I attempted to catch them. Bad idea...really, really bad idea. But common sense is completely over-ridden when a patient starts to fall. My brain knows that I should let them fall especially if I can't let help them without hurting myself, but once you see someone start to go you start to think of the low platelets, head injuries, incident reports and staying late to finish it. So now I have these delightful muscle spasms in my low back. Lovely.
Monday, March 10, 2008
Death by Moose
Had this crazy dream/nightmare today. My sister and I told all the kids to hop into the trunk because there wasn't any space in the car. I folded down the backseat so they would have fresh air, and we started to drive. Suddenly the car disappears and I'm the only one left walking up this hill in a really homey suburban neighborhood. Up at the top of the hill I can see a moose lying on his back with a gunshot hole through his chin. This moose was huge, like half-a-house huge. I figured that someone must have killed it but been unable to move it.
Just as I am walking next to it, the moose flips over and starts to chase me. Strangely enough it can talk and it keeps saying that 'when I catch you, I'm gonna drag you off to where no one will ever find you,' and 'I've done this before and never been caught.' My heart is pounding out of my chest as I run back and forth dodging. I pull my phone out of my pocket and try to dial 911, however I can't dodge and dial at the same time. I kept dialing 022 and 077. I remember regretting that I had never programmed 911 into my speed dial.
With superhuman energy and afraid of my life I leap over porches and between cars, but the moose keeps on coming. The moose finally catches me by my ankle and starts to drag me down the stairs. I imagine my last moments surrounded by ancient forest trees with mounds of human bones digging into my back. I keep thinking how strange it is that no one has come out of the houses to at least see what the noise is about, when suddenly this old woman popped up out of no where. She tackles the moose from the back and I'm finally able to dial 911. Magically a ton of cop cars and animal control vehicles appear, and I am never so relieved.
I remember asking a cop if they would have been able to find me even if I couldn't have given them my location or spoken during my run with the moose. They said yes after a phone connection of 30 min of silence, it would have triggered a search. I remember feeling sick to my stomach that it would have taken so long for someone to come and rescue me. Strangely enough the cop then whipped out a map to show me that I was located in Holidayland neighborhood.
That's it. I woke up completely terrified that there was a moose in my apt and didn't leave my room for like an hour.
Hmm...wonder what it all means.
Just as I am walking next to it, the moose flips over and starts to chase me. Strangely enough it can talk and it keeps saying that 'when I catch you, I'm gonna drag you off to where no one will ever find you,' and 'I've done this before and never been caught.' My heart is pounding out of my chest as I run back and forth dodging. I pull my phone out of my pocket and try to dial 911, however I can't dodge and dial at the same time. I kept dialing 022 and 077. I remember regretting that I had never programmed 911 into my speed dial.
With superhuman energy and afraid of my life I leap over porches and between cars, but the moose keeps on coming. The moose finally catches me by my ankle and starts to drag me down the stairs. I imagine my last moments surrounded by ancient forest trees with mounds of human bones digging into my back. I keep thinking how strange it is that no one has come out of the houses to at least see what the noise is about, when suddenly this old woman popped up out of no where. She tackles the moose from the back and I'm finally able to dial 911. Magically a ton of cop cars and animal control vehicles appear, and I am never so relieved.
I remember asking a cop if they would have been able to find me even if I couldn't have given them my location or spoken during my run with the moose. They said yes after a phone connection of 30 min of silence, it would have triggered a search. I remember feeling sick to my stomach that it would have taken so long for someone to come and rescue me. Strangely enough the cop then whipped out a map to show me that I was located in Holidayland neighborhood.
That's it. I woke up completely terrified that there was a moose in my apt and didn't leave my room for like an hour.
Hmm...wonder what it all means.
Monday, February 18, 2008
Smart brother
I just had this moment of utter fear, when I realized that I didn't know if my brother was smart enough to stay away from the military. Since the war started, I can't say I've really thought of what's been happening in Iraq. I mean I know that people are dying, but it hadn't connected in my brain that people's brothers, sisters, and families are dying. It clicked when I realized that my brother is about to turn 18. He's old enough to sign his life away to the government.
So I called my brother, and he was completely shocked that I would even think he was crazy enough to sign up for the military. I got a little tearful for some reason, even thinking of my baby brother being put in such an adult situation, fighting a fight that's not even his own, dying for a cause that is so far beyond his thoughts of becoming a pro basketball player. He heard the tears in my voice, and got completely serious on me. It's funny that I keep implying in this entry that he's less than an adult, a kid even. But he's not anymore, he's a grown man. He said, "S I really would never never join the army." I have never felt more relieved than in that moment.
He also told me that was an only son so he couldn't get called. I actually found out that isn't true. A little research said that this is false. Sadly enough you actually have to be the survivor of one who has died as a result of military service.
So I called my brother, and he was completely shocked that I would even think he was crazy enough to sign up for the military. I got a little tearful for some reason, even thinking of my baby brother being put in such an adult situation, fighting a fight that's not even his own, dying for a cause that is so far beyond his thoughts of becoming a pro basketball player. He heard the tears in my voice, and got completely serious on me. It's funny that I keep implying in this entry that he's less than an adult, a kid even. But he's not anymore, he's a grown man. He said, "S I really would never never join the army." I have never felt more relieved than in that moment.
He also told me that was an only son so he couldn't get called. I actually found out that isn't true. A little research said that this is false. Sadly enough you actually have to be the survivor of one who has died as a result of military service.
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