Friday, 29 March 2013

A Day Full of Music, Posting and a Clean (Again) House

Don't get me wrong, for me, this is not the best of days. But hopefully it will improve. The music, posting and Randy working on the house - that's all good. The weekend in the hospital, well, there is no way to make that good. Is there? (I'll save you the trouble of telling you no. There was little good service to be found from the doctors. The floor nurses were just delightful, as always.)

You must be wondering how a doctor can fuck up, yes? Me, too. The last three visits were more positive. Of course, the first was indeed the best. They took a huge interest in trying to find the issue and put me through a battery of tests. The tests - all of them - found nothing wrong, which on the one hand, was a relief - no cancer, no ulcers, etc.. On the other hand, it was disappointing; how does one fix what isn't broken? So nothing was fixed and I was sent home.

This visit began on Saturday night, at about 21:44, when I arrived at the hospital. They got me in the system and I.V.d and ready to go within a short time. I had thrown up once more before the nurse realised she had to give me the Zolfran IV before this would cease (which it did immediately after. Getting the Dilaudid for the severe back pain was something else again. Without Luis to insist on it and without (as it turned out) the vials of drugs which would confirm the fact that I take Dilaudid orally (8ml), which is 4ml IV, they would not go above 2ml - totally ineffective. I am cursed with a body that adjusts very quickly to medication. I cannot help this.

But the nurse on Floor Three explained to me that doctors tend to gravitate toward "drug addict" before "constant pain condition" and that is what they do if no drug vials are proffered. You would think someone higher and earlier on the food chain might mention this. Right? Clearly not. Don't assume. Of you, like me, have chronic pain, take that advice and bring 'em all - even if there're 25 of them!

That sounds crazy, right? But we, the EMTs, know this. You would think that after eight active years of riding on the ambulance I would know this. But the first eight riding years I only ever went to the hospital as an EMT, never as a patient. Before that? Nope. Never as a patient. Now, I'm a bloody pro. I went to Mo'town between 12 and 15 times and this year, 4 trips to St. Clare's. I can't believe there is still something I haven't learned about this.

What really made me crazy was the pain management doc that stopped in. The nurse told me I'd love him, and the name of the guy (a very Ukrainian or Russian name that was not easy to recall) and I waited all day Monday and a good portion of Tuesday for him to show. Fat bloody chance - I hated him. He was an unsmiling, unsympathetic and completely uninterested in what I had to say. I could not believe it. And that was that. He said there was no reason for me to be there and sent me home - nothing changed.

I asked the nurse and she told me this was not - NOT - the guy I'd been told about. So I requested the right person's name on the paperwork and when I can, I will contact that person. I know that Dr. Gilmartin wants me to see this other loser but you cannot convince me that this person has my best interests at heart - or any where else in his skinny little body. I'm going to the warm and fuzzy guy.

Not to say that Dr. Gilmartin isn't nice, he is. Always smiling, always pleasant, takes an interest, just like Dr. Iannetta, my own dear doctor (no one will ever be as delightful as Dr. Iannetta - he is an avid reader, very intelligent, has an amazing sense of humour - just as sarcastic as mine - and takes the time to listen to me. Luis goes to the same provider, Vanguard Medical (formerly Changebridge Medical), but to Dr. Pallay, whom I most;y have the desire to slap. I suspect that the feeling is mutual, so no skin off my back if he knows. If he has half of a brain, he knows. Generally, it is fairly easy to discern what I am thinking and/or feeling.

So today my back hurts, I have a fever, my muscles hurt like hell. I suspect I am in fact sick, which they'd thought from my high white cell count. But they released me early, so screw them.

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