The Journey of 2011.................... the Mystery Nurse............

Part 1

I was looking at the IV port in my left arm as I heard that voice again.

"Hi MiKael, sorry it too me so long. Sometimes it takes a while for those meetings to get done."

I immediately recognized the cadence of the words, the tone of that voice. Quickly turning to see the face that went with it, I must admit I saw someone totally unexpected.

Now, I can tell you that I really hadn't had an expectation of who that voice might belong to but I can also tell you without a doubt, even my most wild guesses would not have included anyone from the Arabian horse shows. Don't ask me why my mind didn't go that way. It makes no sense to me.

Horse related things are pretty much the only activities I leave home for but I just never run into horse people anywhere other than horse shows, clinics or Daffodil Arabian Horse Association dinners. While I will admit occasionally I might run into someone I know at a tack store or a feed store but even that hasn't happened often in my twenty some years in this business. The last place I expected to see another horse person was definitely the hospital, let alone have someone from there as my nurse. Heck! I didn't even know she was a nurse until she walked into my room that day.

This mystery nurse was not just another horse person either. She was someone who rides in my division. By division I don't just mean purebred "western, hunter or trail." I mean my age division too.

This was someone I pretty much see at every horse show. I've ridden in the warm up ring with her. I've showed against her. Somebody I've sat in the lineup with on many an occasion and we've discussed our rides. Someone who rides a horse bred by a very good friend of mine.

Not only that but for last year's Daffodil high point championships, Legs and I may have been the champions, but this woman and her horse were the reserve champions for our age division. The two of us each earned more points on our horses than any of the other winners. We'd done a little celebrating about our two home trained horses taking home the big prizes instead of horses from the BNT's barns.

By now I imagine you've gotten the picture this was a pretty big deal to me. You might even wonder what kind of problem having this much history with a person might be in having that person for a nurse .

Really there wasn't a problem. Initially I was so happy to see her. A familiar face, someone I knew and could trust to deal with all this chaos that had just hit my life. This was definitely a plus. Just the sight of her face brought my blood pressure down I'm sure.

It wasn't that we really got a chance to visit or anything. She was way too busy for that...........and it really seemed that I had a schedule that was much more intense than even hers, although I didn't realize it at the time. There was so much reassurance in knowing someone involved in this whirlwind I was on I can't even put a measure on it or describe it adequately. At the very least I can say it felt like a great relief.

There was I must admit, however, one tiny little problem. One item on that list of protocol before I even got to the really big stuff that just didn't seem to fit my perspective of our relationship.

To be continued.....................

The Procedure before Surgery........


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The Journey of 2011.................... Getting through the Protocol...........

Part 1

I knew from when I'd talked with the surgeon early that morning what the protocol for me would be but what I didn't realize was how fast they would put things into action. It seemed from the first instant my bottom hit the sheets of that bed in my hospital room, they were off and running at full steam to get things done.

They wasted no time getting me to radiology for that second CT scan. I did manage to get my feet under me for the move from my bed to the gurney and then to their machine but I think it took longer for me to get on and off the gurney than it did for the actual test.

No sooner had I hit the gurney after the test than someone offered me another one of those warm blankets which I gratefully accepted. With hospital gowns being what they are even though I tried to avoid those fanny flashes, those transfers chilled me to the bone. With not one but two warm blankets in place I didn't mind waiting in the hallway waiting for someone to deliver me back to my room for the next portion of that protocol.

Of course the part of all of this I dreaded the most was those darn blood tests and IV placements. At this early stage of my hospital stay my arms looked pretty good to the phlebotomists or lab technicians but even at those early sticks I grimaced. Not from pain at that point but just the thought of what my arms had looked like and more importantly felt like those many years ago during my appendectomy hospitalization was enough to make me wince.

The professionals, on the other hand, had no idea of what my veins could look like under duress. All they cared about were the arms right in front of them. I heard repeatedly how beautiful and easy my veins were.

Knowing those terms also make for much less painful procedures, I was appreciative of them too but their use of the term "easy" sure made me think of those days with Lindsay and her cancer.

Being only ten at the time,Lindsay just didn't comprehend why it might be ok for anyone to hurt her. She was not a willing patient and they couldn't even get the blood drawn without my assistance. Things were much better for her when they finally put in a port and we no longer had to deal with painful blood draws but I have always been grateful she does not hold my cooperation with those "enemy blood suckers" against me. As I watched the blood being drawn from my arm, I couldn't help but wonder how this new experience with cancer would affect her.

With the brain damage from her cancer, it's hard to know how Lindsay will react to anything. She's a very special kid with a heart as big as the ocean and she functions pretty darn well but emotionally she relies on me immensely . The last thing I wanted was my illness to throw her a curve ball and there were so many ways it could. From flashbacks to fears for the future, and who knows what in between there were lots of places most anyone could get stuck, let alone Lindsay. I did not want her to be a victim of cancer again because of me.

Neither Dave nor I had even thought of how to tell her or how she might take such new. Now I found myself wishing there had been time to do such planning but I was definitely on a fast track that allowed no times for such things. I sure hoped my daughter wasn't going to pay because of our lack of planning time. She's had a tough enough go at life as it is.

Between Lindsay and the horses my mind flooded as the lab techs left the room. I was trying to sort out this new predicament in my life and what I might do to lessen the impact on each when the mystery nurse walked into the room.

To be continued........................

The Mystery Nurse........

The cute little guy in this picture is Andy, Scandalous Addiction, and he's grown up to be quite an impressive boy. I got to spend a little time with him today and he is really working hard to steal my heart.

As for the questions on yesterday's post, I will be posting more information about them and I really want to thank Laura for answering my questions. I do still have more questions and I'm sure you all must have questions of your own. Where did I come up with those terms? and what do they have to do with me? The answers will come along with this story so stay tuned.....

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Questions..............

It's been a long tough day and my post is just not coming together so instead of serving up that mess I thought I'd ask a couple of questions. Hopefully some of you will have the answers to these.

Do you know what Acid Detergent Fiber is?

What about Neutral Detergent Fiber?

I know these are terms I could sure benefit from knowing more about. What about you?


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the Journey of 2011..................... Settling in????

Part 1

The first ward I hit in the hospital was oncology. If there was any denial on my part about cancer, it was gone the instant I saw that sign. For a brief moment I felt sick to my stomach but by the time we hit my room it was gone. Funny thing though, I can still see that sign as clearly as I saw it that first day. I'm pretty sure it's etched in my mind for the duration.

Getting me into the bed was tricky. The room was small and there was a patient in the far bed. The curtain between the two beds was drawn but there was extra equipment visible at the toe end of that patient's bed. It looked like there was hardly room enough to have a second bed in that room. That meant getting the gurney right next to the bed and scooting me over wasn't going to work. I was going to have to get to my feet in the hallway and "walk" in even if I couldn't hold myself up.

I don't remember where my IV went in this process but Dave was one one side of me and my new nurse on the other. Maybe the woman who brought me there carried my IV behind us but I don't really know for sure. Mostly what I remember was my body felt like a wet noodle that didn't want to conform. It hurt a lot to move and from the gurney in the hall to my bed in the room I took maybe four steps. If it was actually more steps than that, they must have dragged me the rest of them because I'm pretty sure my feet only shuffled along those two steps apiece.

The next obstacle was there was no IV pole available in the room and Dave couldn't keep up with that function. He needed to get home. My new nurse "formally" introduced herself and then headed off looking for a proper device so Dave could leave. It didn't take but a couple of minutes and she was back.

Just as quickly Dave was gone and, to be honest, his hasty departure caught me off guard. I got a peck on the check but someone was talking to me, I think it was the anesthesiologist or a PA of some kind, so I didn't really get a chance to really say goodbye. As the person talking to me rambled on, I was only half listening, instead I was thinking about Dave's leaving. I felt a sick empty feeling in my stomach. What if that goodbye was it?

I knew Dave really had to leave. Lindsay was home by herself with all those horses. The close friends I've made over the years that would be the kind to help in such circumstances are currently sick themselves or too far away. There was no one who could take his place so he could stay there with me.

I couldn't allow myself to think about it and fortunately something on the wall at the end of my bed screamed for attention. I don't recall if it was big black or white board but it was fixed up like a chart and had all kinds of what looked like useful information on it.

I had never seen anything quite like it actually in a patient's room. On the wall at a nurse's station or something like that maybe, but here it was right at the foot of my bed calling out to me.

Besides patients names for bed one and bed two, there were the names of doctors, nurses, aids, etc assigned to each patient. But the thing that caught my attention was a section across the bottom that explained how to describe pain. I remember being grateful to see that section because I was already frustrated at some of the questions I'd been asked in reference to my pain level. I figured with one of these boards in my room I might have a chance at effectively describing what was happening to me. Little did I know how much I was going to need such a board or that I wouldn't see another one after I left this room.

Shortly after Dave left my new nurse came in briefly to let me know the shift change was about to begin so I wouldn't be seeing her again. She did tell me the first name of the nurse that would be taking over my care but it meant nothing to me. The nurse also told me it would probably be a good half hour before their transition was complete so most likely I wouldn't see my "new" nurse until sometime after that.

Shortly after that I was having blood drawn or dealing with some other medical procedure getting me ready for surgery, I heard this voice say, "I'll be right back, MiKael." as the person owning the voice tossed something onto the chair just inside the door.

As I heard the sound of my name, I tried to see who was talking to me but I didn't get any kind of glimpse that would help me identify her. All I saw was part of her arm and her hand but the thing that got me was she had not only pronounced my name correctly (the only one to do so) but she did so with a tone of conviction. Along with that, there was something about her voice that I thought I recognized.

Things were happening too quickly to focus on the mystery voice. I think I was being asked for the umpteenth time about my medical history, allergies, current symptoms and all of that stuff. Then I was whisked off to have another CT scan. This time with contrast but I couldn't help but wonder who that had been pronouncing my name not only correctly but with such confidence. That just never happens to me unless it's someone I know.

To be continued.............................

Getting through Protocol.........



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The Journey of 2011.................... The Protocol........

Part 1 of the Baby Boomer Series

Part 1

It didn't seem like it was all that long after the ER doctor had given us the information about the CT scan and his finding when the surgeon stopped in to see me. I really hadn't expected to see him before I was admitted to the hospital and especially since it was so early in the morning, but there he was.

The ER doctor had mentioned something about having a preference for who he wanted to do my surgery so I wasn't all that surprised to see an elderly gentleman enter the room. He told us his name saying he'd spell it for us but it didn't spell anything like it sounded. Then he began talking about the results of my CT scan and what that indicated to him.

Right down the line the surgeon outlined for us exactly what the ER doctor had told us to expect for my course of treatment. As soon as I was admitted to the hospital, they would do another CT scan. This time it would be done with contrast so they could get better detail on the location of the blockage.

Once that was done I would be given a tap water enema to clear out the portion of my colon below the blockage. That way they could scope me to see exactly what the tumor looked like and what the tissue below it looked like as well. In addition there would be blood work to determine blood type in case transfusions were necessary and the usual session with the anesthesiologist.

The surgeon described the surgery and its goals. Of course, removing all of the cancer was foremost but in addition he would be collecting samples from my lymph nodes for biopsies as well. It would be later after the results of all the biopsies that an oncologist would decide what further treatments I would have based on the results of those tests.

He told me he would do everything he could to not leave me with an ostomy. He assured me he had done many, many surguries that way with very successful outcomes. He also claimed even if he did end up having to perform that procedure, it would be fully reversible so he didn't want me to be worrying about that.

He explained the condition of my bowels would determine whether an ostomy was necessary or not. He would only be able to know that once he was actually in there looking at the tissue itself but from what he had seen so far he really thought he would not have to do that procedure.

Before he left, he asked if we had any questions and, of course, neither Dave nor I did. Dave was pretty shell shocked and too over whelmed to be thinking of questions. All the questions racing through my mind had to do with my horses and I knew he couldn't help me with that.

After the surgeon left, a nurse came back in checking me for pain. I remember my frustration at being asked to describe it. Give it a number. Assign it some characteristics like tight, throbbing, sharp etc. To me, it hurt..........it hurt enough I was getting pretty p*ssed off at their silly questions. Wasn't that enough.

Later my perception of my pain would turn out to be a very big issue. One no one saw coming...........and certainly not me. For now, I was administered more pain meds and once again I was a little more comfortable than I had been but I still had plenty of pain.

I tried again to get Dave to go home but he was having none of it. He said he wanted to see me settled into my room before he would leave. Only then would he feel comfortable heading home to help Lindsay with the horses.

***********

It was right around 6 when I heard voices outside in the hall. I recognized the usual mispronunciation of my name and knew there was someone to take me upstairs. My name was mispronounced at least three more times before the process of transferring me to the gurney even started.

Despite the pain meds, I was unable to walk or even stand so getting me onto the gurney was pretty awkward. On the TV you see all kinds of doctors and nurses on each side of a patient making the transfer but that's just television. In real life you're lucky if there are two professionals present, the nurse responsible for you and the professional taking charge of you.

On this day my nurse was probably Lindsay's size so nearly half the size of me and the person to take me to the hospital portion of this building was maybe 2/3 my size. Normally I don't think much about my size but seeing these two smaller women trying to slide me from one gurney to another I felt more than a little aware of my size.

If I hadn't felt so bad, I think I would have laughed. The circumstances should have been one of those impossible feats expected on some weird game or reality show with some awesome reward for getting it done. I thought about my friend, Jean who is a respiratory therapist, and some of the stories she has told about dealing with patients much larger than herself. I didn't want to be the result of either of these women ending up with an aching back.

Fortunately, both women could see there was a problem with this scenario. With only one try at sliding me, they began thinking of other options. I was relieved when they decided I could go on the gurney when one of them came up with the solution for hanging my IV. If I remember correctly that solution was Dave. He became my temporary IV pole and then we were headed down the hall.

To be continued........................

Settling in...........

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The Journey of 2011.................... A Confirmation........

Part 1

Once the meds had kicked in, the doctor sent me off for a CT scan. Even with drugs on board, I was still uncomfortable but at least it was within tolerable range. I can't imagine what it would have been like to have that test done without some help for the pain.

Moving on and off the gurney was the worst but laying flat on the platform for the CT scan was uncomfortable too. I had trouble staying still enough for them to get their images but, thank goodness, they were able to get them without having to do the test over again. I don't think I could have laid there much longer.

Once I was back onto the gurney, someone offered me a warm blanket while someone else worked at elevating my head on the gurney. It was nice to have them trying so hard to make me comfortable but I could read the level of concern on their faces. I didn't need a doctor to tell me the results of my test were not good.

Back in the room, I told Dave what I expected to hear from the doctor. I don't know for sure if he tried to discount what I said to make me feel better or him but the fact was when the doctor came back, my assertion was correct.

The CT scan did find a blockage in my colon although, because it had not been done with color contrast, the exact extent of the blockage was still unknown. The ER doc had already called a surgeon and I was to be admitted to the hospital just as soon as there was a bed available.

In the meantime, I couldn't have anything to eat or drink, no ice chips either, because my surgery was already scheduled for noon of that day. My nurse did was she could to keep me comfortable. The lights were turned down low and she brought me more warm blankets as I lay there waiting for the move.

By this time it was getting near daylight. I tried to get Dave to go home so he could help Lindsay take care of the horses and the dogs but he was having none of it. He said he would stay at least until they had me settled in my room in the hospital.

We both sat quietly in the semi dark room. I don't know if Dave was napping or thinking but his eyes were closed and he was slouched in his chair. Me, I was thinking. My mind was in over drive about my horses. There were so many scenarios running through my mind I hardly knew which one to concentrate on.

I have a life insurance policy that I got specifically to provide funds for the care of the horses until they could all be sold should I die. That policy did not cover me if I was disabled or dealing with a catastrophic illness. To be honest, I'd never even thought of those possibilities but now they loomed in the forefront of my mind.

The whole time I laid there waiting to be moved to my hospital room, I worried about the welfare of my horses and the huge responsibility that had just befallen Dave and Lindsay. It was one thing for them to be helping me with the horses, an entirely different thing for them to be solely responsible for them.

The "What If's" swirled through my mind and I thought about all the things I intended to do that hadn't been done yet. I also thought about plans I had made in the past that were no longer feasible. The current economy has changed so many things for so many of my friends, it has changed who is in a position to help in the event of something catastrophic happening and who cannot.

From the time Dave first lost his job, I have been looking for homes, in the event it should ever come to that, and I have seen those prospective homes disappear as more and more people lost their jobs, their farms and their own horses.

As the economy has worsened, I was grateful that it looked like I could hang on to get to the other side of this thing. Now, "Life" had squarely whacked me upside the head to let me know the economy was not the only thing I should have been worrying about. All my careful planning and preparations suddenly looked pretty inefficient.

To be continued....................

The Protocol.....

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The Journey of 2011.................... Getting to See the Doc........

Part 1

I don't know how long we stayed in the waiting area. I knew cases were triaged so the most serious would be seen first. Considering the way I felt, I was pretty sure that should have meant I would have some kind of priority on that list but still we sat. All I could think was those called before me must have presented with more obvious symptoms. I began to worry I might be left sitting in that waiting room all night long and I was convinced if that was the case, it would cost me.

The longer we sat, the worse I got. I must have been in perpetual motion as I tried to find some way to alleviate my pain. Poor Dave kept trying to help me in some way but there really was no way he could provide me any relief. A doctor was the only one who could do that, yet we still waited.

Finally someone called my name and Dave and I were led through a pair of controlled admission doors to the examining rooms. As sick as I was I couldn't help but notice all the new security measures now in place since my last experience with this hospital. ER's have always been intimidating places for me and now all these changes made me wonder if this was really where I wanted to be.

I remember as we followed our guide, it seemed like we were heading far back into the recesses of the hospital into parts I'd never seen before. Each door we passed I wanted to be "the door" for us but it seemed like we just went on and on.

By the time we hit our room, there was no part of this facility recognizable to me. What had once been a large area cordoned off into sections with long yellow curtains, now were individual rooms with glass fronts and sliding glass doors like you'd expect to see to someone's patio. The long curtains were now white and on the inside of the glass closed off for privacy. There was a gurney right in the middle of the room surrounded by all kinds of emergency equipment.
We were told a nurse would be with us shortly. I was given a gown to wear with instructions it should tie up the back. Then our guide was gone and we were left to wait some more.

I changed into the gown and laid down on the gurney. I used my bathrobe to cover myself. By now I was shaking I was so cold and I was pretty sure it wasn't from the temperature in the room.

Being able to lay down completely, instead of the half sitting, half laying I had been doing in the wheel chair, did bring me a little relief. It wasn't enough for me to think I was better and want to spring from this place. I continued to think about the horses and what kind of situation they would be in if something happened to me.

It was not long before a nurse came in and took my vital signs again. She asked if I would like warm blankets and I responded "yes" before the words were totally out of her mouth. She returned with them in the blink of an eye and carefully stretched them out all the way from my toes up to my chin.

As the warmth washed over me, the shaking began to stop. I was still in excruciating pain but there was some relief in not shaking anymore, although that was soon offset by all the questions from the nurse.

I must admit I'm not even sure if I understand why a patient is asked the same questions over and over. It wasn't like the nurse was going to make some kind of judgement about my care. A doctor would be the only one who could do that and I knew when a doctor did arrive I'd be asked the same questions all over again.

I did, however, not get crabby with the nurse over her questions even though I hurt so badly I didn't really have the energy to deal with them. I managed to go over ever part of the last week and all the things I'd done trying to fix this situation myself, right on through to the final straw that brought me there.

I could see by her expression this nurse was very concerned. I don't know if her feelings got the doctor there any quicker than he might have been but I really did not wait as long as I feared I might.

It might have been fifteen or twenty minutes after the nurse left, before the doctor came into my room. As I expected we went through all the same questions that I had repeated to the intake nurse, then my assigned nurse, and Dave had even done it the very first time when he checked me in. However, I was surprised when the doctor got done questioning me. Instead of telling me I needed test, etc to confirm diagnosis, the man asked me if I would like something for the pain.

You might wonder why I would be surprised by that question but at this stage of the game there really was no diagnosis even though he certainly had an idea what the issue was. I remembered my experience all those years ago when my appendix had burst.

During that time my appendix actually ruptured while I was in the hospital. My mother had taken me to my doctor's office first where one of his colleagues had signed my admission papers to the hospital. Because he had signed those papers, no one else could treat me and he didn't arrive at the hospital until 7:30 that evening even though I had been admitted at 10:30 in the morning.

The whole time I lay there in that bed writhing in pain and I was told they couldn't give me drugs until the doctor ordered them, which wouldn't be done until a diagnosis had been made. They said if they gave me drugs before the diagnosis, I might think I was well and leave so there were no drugs for me.

I guess I expected things to be the same this time. I just didn't expect any pain relief until after they officially knew what was wrong with me. Thankfully for me, that's not how it was this time around. Within a matter of minutes drugs were prescribed and they made sure I was as comfortable as possible BEFORE any tests were done.

Thank God for caring ER docs and nurses!

To be continued.......................

A Confirmation...........




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The Journey of 2011................ Getting to the Hospital.................

Part 1

Before we left the house, Dave woke Lindsay to tell her where we were going and what had prompted my chance in plans. I didn't know if she'd awaken before Dave returned or not but there was a good chance that Delilah would decide to sound the alarm because things weren't going as usual so I wasn't taking any chances Lindsay'd be frightened finding herself alone with no explanation.

I knew Lindsay was already concerned about my illness so I suspected she'd jump to the worst possible conclusions if she'd didn't have any real facts about our departure. It was actually possible she might feel a little relief being kept in the loop and knowing I was finally going to get some help even if it did mean waking her up.

Before we ever got into the car, I worried about the ride to the hospital. The last time I'd had Dave take me to the emergency room the ride had been pretty darn miserable. Even though I knew we weren't making this trip in the truck, I was pretty sure it wasn't going to be any more comfortable than the previous ride had been.

I warned Dave as he assisted me into his car that his usual method of driving was going to cause me pain. Dave's car has reclining seats and he seemed to think that would alleviate an problems I might have riding in the car so he really didn't pay much attention to my request for him to accelerate and decelerate as slowly and smoothly as possible.

We weren't even out of our driveway yet and I was already clutching my belly, curled up in a ball. Poor Dave was horrified. He couldn't stand the fact that he might be responsible for causing me pain. He really did try his hardest to make all transitions as smooth as possible but the facts were by then I hurt so badly that every tiny little jiggle or bump made me want to scream in excrutiating pain.

Before this trip, I thought the ride to the ER with the broken arm and dislocated shoulder was the worst ride I'd ever taken but that trip didn't even come close to comparing to the issues of this trip. Instead of just my arm and shoulder being involved, my entire core seemed to be affected. The pain was so intense I just could not keep still. My legs and arms were going constantly as I kept shifting trying to find some position that was comfortable. Believe me, there was no such position.

The only thing I could compare the experience to was those first days of college when my appendix ruptured and I got peritonitis. That time I was in the hospital for 45 days and they did not expect me to survive because the disease had spread throughout my entire abdomen and I was not responding to the usual antibiotics. This time, the pressure I was feeling in my gut was the same as that experience but the pain was far more excruciating. There was no doubt in my mind I was in every bit as serious a situation as I had been all those years ago.

I was relieved when we finally arrived at the hospital even though I still didn't know for sure if they would treat me or turn me away. Dave didn't seem to be bothered by such things. He parked the car explaining he was going in to get me help and left. I tried to let his belief carry both of us as I sat there by myself. I couldn't even imagine what was going to happen to me if they turned me away.

In just moments Dave was back with a wheel chair. I looked at him in disbelief asking if he had been sure to tell them we had no insurance. Nodding his head in affirmation, he carefully tried to help me from the car and into the chair. Even then I just did not believe they were going to treat me.

I can say without any doubt that riding in a wheel chair across a asphalt parking lot isn't a good thing for anyone in pain. If I had been capable of walking on my own, I'd have discarded that darn chair because of the increase in pain it caused. Yet, every hospital I know seems to have the same surfaces that sick people much deal with, unless of course, you come by ambulance.

When we hit the smoother concrete finished walkway there were certainly less bumps but the truth is by this time my gut was so screwed up I could hardly tolerate sitting upright at all. Not that laying down would have been much better, there just seemed to be no way for me to find any relief.

I dreaded going into the emergency room waiting area. I knew how bad I looked and I really couldn't bare the stares and even worse, the waiting. There seemed to be people everywhere and I could only imagine how long it was going to take before I even got in to see a doctor.

Dave went and filled out paperwork before coming to sit with me. Then we waited for a little while for my name to be called. It actually wasn't too long when I heard my name and I thought I was going to get to see a doc. Instead I ended up talking with an admitting clerk.

It turned out they couldn't find my old records and they weren't going to proceed until they could. I don't know how long it took to fix that mess but when they finally did instead of getting to see a doctor, I was sent back to the waiting room with no idea how long it would be before I got anywhere near a doctor.

They did take my vital signs before the sent me off to wait again. They didn't bother to share them with me so I had no idea how my situation would triage compared to others waiting. I do remember clearly by this time my pain was escalating and so was the pressure I was feeling withing my abdomen. As I waited for my name to be called, I began to have flashbacks of those days I'd spent in intensive care all those years ago.

During that hospital stay, I was 18 and one of my room mates was in her sixties. I remember it was quite a tragic experience for that woman that was somehow complicated by her age. She lay for hours curled up in a fetal position crying for help and she was inconsolable. Unable to comprehend what was really happening to her, she thought she been abducted and was going to die because she could not get medical aid.

As I now half laid, half sat in the waiting room, I could hear the terror in her voice those many years ago and I wondered if that terror should really be mine. Part of me thought it was just my fear, another part thought maybe it was prophetic. There were some very real commonalities in my symptoms both times and I no longer had youth on my side. I once again began thinking about the horses and what would happen to them, if something happened to me.

To be continued..........

Getting to See the Doc.............



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The Journey of 2011............... the Eye Opener.........

Part 1

It was right around midnight when it happened. The pain in my gut seemed to come to life rocking and rolling causing sheer agony. If that wasn't enough my head began to spin. My mouth dried out and then queasiness over took me.

I stumbled as I raced towards the bathroom. I drug myself on my knees the rest of the way as a clammy chill overcame me followed by a cold sweat that beaded up on my face and neck before taking over my whole body. As I reached the toilet a florescent green substance burst forth from my mouth and I grabbed at the toilet to keep myself from falling flat to the floor.

It seemed like hours that I balanced against the toilet waiting for the last of these putrid contents to leave my stomach but I know it probably didn't really take long. Once my stomach quit heaving, my head still spun and that cold chill turned into uncontrollable shaking. I pulled my bathrobe off the nearby hook and wrapped it around myself before exiting the room.

There was no doubt in my mind now. I needed help and I needed it quickly. I knew the meaning of that florescent green vomit from an experience I'd had as a child.

I was about 5 years old and we'd just had a new baby in our house. I had been asked if I wanted to hold my new baby brother right after he'd had a bottle. I'd done willing taken him pleased to be so trusted. Yet, after just moments in my arms the baby puked that green stuff all over me.

The adults all panicked and someone grabbed the baby from me. He was rushed off to the hospital not to be seen for another six months. It turns out he was born with his intestines jumbled up in knots and the unusual vomit was a direct result of an intestional blockage. The odor, the color, the cause and a whole lot of guilt stuck with me all these years.

There was no question in my mind. I had some kind of blockage in my intestional tract and not trip to a doctor's office was going to fix it. What I needed was a hospital. Insurance or not I couldn't let that drive me anymore. My life was hanging in the balance.

Once I was sure my body's purging process was through, I managed to crawl back to my room. There I grabbed my cell phone to call Dave who was in the living room. I knew I didn't have the strength to reach him on my own. I only hoped he'd not fallen asleep watching the tv because Dave sleeps like a log. I didn't want to call 911 for help if I didn't have to. Even if I was no longer resistant to going for help, the fear of what an ambulance to the hospital would cause was driving me still.

Luckily Dave was wide awake, or at least he sounded that way as he answered the phone on its second ring. When he heard my voice telling him I needed him to take me to the emergency room, he calmly answered he be right there after he got dressed, which I might add he accomplished in record time. While I waited for him, I put on my bathrobe, my socks and my shoes praying the whole time.

As much as I didn't want to believe it, I had a pretty good idea what this all meant for me. My dad was diagnosed with colorectal cancer when I was about six. He died from the disease when I was twelve. Even though the details of my father's illness were pretty much never discussed under the guise of protecting us, there was no way to hide the fact he'd died.

The disease itself was rarely, if ever discussed in my family even after my father's death. It was like everything else bad that happened. Family rules proclaimed you just didn't talk about the bad stuff no matter what it was. That meant we never talked about the tests for screening we should all have been taking once those tests had become available.

While this might be difficult for some to understand, victims of childhood abuse and particularly sexual abuse, have even greater difficulty getting routine medical procedures done that could save their lives. I'm not sure I can explain why that is but I know it has definitely been the case for me.

My guess would be it has a lot to do with control and trust........things that are hard enough under normal circumstances but even more difficult with the violations that come with childhood abuse.

As sick as I was that evening, these are the thoughts that ran through my mind......... and with them, flashbacks of those things that started it all. Oh, how I wished I could take a horse to the hospital with me. From the looks of things I was going to need the healing I seem to get from them.

To be continued...................

Getting to the Hospital.........



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The Journey of 2011..............

Looking at the number of comments on my Update it looks like everyone would like the opportunity to understand what has happened here. The only way I can see that will happen is for me to tell the story and really the whole story.

From the hospital I did a post I called The Story but it didn't really tell much of the story at all. Mostly all it did was mention the C word so I guess the best way to do this is to go back and start at the beginning.

To be honest, I'm not even sure where this story starts. Over the past few years I have had problems on and off with my stomach, or at least I thought it was my stomach. I know that during the journey that led to the lawsuit I posted about trouble with my stomach then but I had some minor issues before that.

When the disease really began in my body will probably never be known . The only thing I am sure if is when I posted Under the Weather in June, I was already having a considerable amount of trouble because that's what it would take for me to quit posting. A minor little stomach ache would not have been enough to shut me down.

Once I did that post, I pretty much quit doing much of anything except for trying to figure out something to make me feel better. I jumped through all the hoops I'd done the previous year when I'd had so much trouble every time I ate. To deal with that I had gone to eating bland foods and taking probiotics. I don't know really know if those things helped me or if it was just a coincidence that my stomach issues got better. All I can say for sure is this time around those things didn't work.

Because we had not been able to keep up with the rising costs of premiums for health insurance, neither Dave or I had insurance coverage. I had been to the doctor when my stomach trouble had flared up the year before but the prescription they had given me was not the least bit helpful. Since I had a similar experience a few years back I wasn't really trusting that the doctor would help me at all so I worked at trying to figure things out myself.

As the days went by I got more and more uncomfortable whenever I ate. I was plagued with gas but it took me some time to realize while I was burping a lot, no gas seemed to be escaping from the other end. Once I realized that I decided that an enema was in order.

An enema is not an easy thing for me to do. It was a form of abuse in the house I grew up in and it was only after I got a "normal" enema when I had my first baby that I even realized how evil the enemas I'd been given as a kid had been. Since then I find it difficult to even give them to foals when needed. I do them but they are accompanied by some pretty miserable flashbacks.

Despite those issues by now I knew I had to do something. I didn't want to end up in the emergency room only to have them decide I needed an enema so I took it upon myself and got it done. The result was I did get some relief BUT it didn't last for long.

I figured I was on the right track but I also knew that repeating enemas can result in messing up the balance in the gut which can cause its own set of pretty miserable issues. Instead of repeating a tap water enema, the next day I decided I would try a glycerin suppository since I knew from my vet glycerin type enemas are much more gentle on the gut than the water type.

I read the directions carefully and followed them just as carefully. I got the same kind of results as with the tap water enema. I was better for a time but it didn't last long.

By now it was the weekend. I told Dave if I wasn't better by Monday I would let him take me to the doctor (something he had been pushing me to do for days). Saturday night I went to bed early. Something that Dave has not seen often in the years we've been together. If I had really been listening to myself, I would have noticed the unusualness of that too and maybe that would have affected my decision making process but who knows.

Sunday morning, I tried another glycerin suppository and got pretty much the same result. Had I not gotten any results, I would have gone to the hospital immediately as the directions instructed. As it was I figured I would wait until the following morning and then head to the doctor.

I was in bed by 6 that evening which was pretty much unheard of around here. I got up and then down again a couple of times that evening. No matter what I did I just couldn't get comfortable but I was still thinking of heading for the doctor's in the morning.

By this time I was barely eating. What I did eat was directed towards dealing with constipation and bloating. Mostly I tried to keep the fluids going knowing that fluids area big issue with constipation as well as dehydration. I was doing better drinking water than anything else but I knew I wasn't eating or drinking enough to survive and I was getting pretty frightened but still hanging onto the thought my best bet was the doctor's office in the morning.

I'm sure that thought process was totally motivated by the insurance issue. Going to the doctor's office wouldn't be nearly as expensive as going to the emergency room and every penny that we had to spend on something like that would mean less money to care for my horses. I was taking no chances at putting them in jeopardy despite the issues I was causing myself.

That Sunday I laid in my bed rocking back and forth trying to distract myself from the pain. My mind raced with all the possibilities of what lay ahead. I had no idea what to expect because we had didn't have health insurance and I worried about my horses. What would become of them if something happened to me?

To be continued.....................

The Eye Opener....



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Missed Blogaversary...........

I realized this week that I've missed an in important blogaversary. I had mentioned to fernvalley when she was hear that the time was fast approaching. Although at that time, I mispoke when I told her the number. I remember as the words rolled off my tongue that the number sounded way too large to be possible but we were so involved in our visit I never did figure out what the exact number really was, all I knew for sure was that the number represented an awful lot of posts for the amount of time I've been blogging.

I began this adventure in January of 2007 making this my fifth year of blogging. Most of that time I have posted daily except for my time away at the US All Arabian National Horse Show AND the current situation, the illness of 2011.

It is because of that illness that I missed my 1500 post. Instead Dave did the honors and did not notice and I'm pretty sure wouldn't have realized the significance of such a number if he had. It was only after I had hit the publish button of my last post that I realized the milestone had come and gone.

It seemed to me I had come so close to never reaching the number at all that it was important to acknowledge that the number had indeed been reached. I also thought it was important to chose a picture that would reflect another milestone that is on my agenda for the coming year. I'm pretty sure I will not miss posting about it when it happens.

I am continuing to improve. The problem is I do not have the stamina to do what I really want to do. With assurances from the docs that's not going to be happening any time soon and my level of boredom quickly rising.

I've decided maybe now is the time to being planning my online store (for the thousands of children's books I still own from my days as an ebay power seller) so I'm going to do a little playing with a second page here. I probably won't be posting books but I do have some horse things, some jewelry and even some craft things that some of my readers might like. We'll see how it evolves and any suggestions from my friends and readers would be greatly appreciated.

For those who haven't been around from the start, I paid for my first horse with my crafts. Having been a professional crafter for many years (and most of them while I had double vision) I am pretty well set up to create most anything within my genres.

I have been thinking lots of the Raggedy Ann and Andy dolls that paid for tricycles for my kids and for some reason (my youngest granddaughter just got her first AG doll and is begging) American Girl doll clothes seem to be a possibility. I have a couple of very sweet toddler snow suits swimming in my head and my folk art painting seems to be calling me as well. I guess that means once there could be all kinds of interesting items mixed in between the horse things. That is, of course, all dependent on whether my readers are even interested in such things appearing on that new second page. Let me know what you're thinking and we'll see where I end up.

Update

I know it's been a while since I've posted so I thought I would post an update. . It's just that my recovery is moving so slowly that it seems there really isn't much to say but I don't want anyone to be concerned my lack of posting is a bad sign so I guess here goes with the boring details.

With all the comments with suggestions on increasing the font size I did manage to figure out my problem here. It appears that somewhere along the line I changed the settings to something less than 100% and that's why I was having issues.

I'm still having major issues with my double vision but at least now size of font isn't contributing to them. I have managed to visit a few blogs but progress is slow since I only seem to be able to read one post before my eyes are shot and usually I'm done for the day.

I have really appreciated everyones comments, emails, cards and phone calls. It sure helps my day not feel quite so long and I feel less isolated when I hear from my horse and blogging friends. I'm quite sure the phone calls even help my blood pressure. LOL

I can finally walk to the barn without Dave's help but I can't really do anything once I get there, nor can I stay for long. I have one of those lightweight bag chairs out there so I can sit for a while and drink in the smell of my horses.

Usually the boys in that first barn talk to me. I'm sure they are puzzled to see me doing nothing but sitting in a chair. All of the horses seems to be very vocal when I speak. I am sure they are all wondering what the heck is going on that most only hear my voice and do not see me.

Making the trip around to visit all the horses is really still too much although I must confess I have done it a few times. I usually am done for the day after that. Legs is just downright p*ssed with me shaking his head and pinning his ears. He is wanting to go back to work and that just isn't happening anytime soon.

I must confess I am really frustrated with the length of my recovery and I feel like there's some deficit on my part responsible for me not healing faster. The docs and nurses assure me I'm doing well and that I must be patient but patience is just not my thing.

I had an appointment with the surgeon yesterday and he finally scheduled the colonoscopy that needs to be done before he can do my next surgery. That test is set for Oct 11 and if all is fine, the surgery will be Oct 25. He also said, if all goes well, I will probably be myself again by this time next year.

I can't even explain how hard those words hit me even though I know he is probably right. I have been hoping I would be back in the saddle by my birthday in Feb. I knew I was probably stretching that just a little, some of my friends have suggested more like spring but fall of next year just seems like too much to bare.

I haven't really posted all the details about my illness and so that long date might confuse some. Mostly I haven't posted because I keep telling myself this is a horse blog and people expect to hear stories about my horses. However, my horses have been so tightly wrapped up in my journey because of how deeply they are in my heart, I am beginning to think my reasoning has been flawed. Each blogger I have spoken with has wanted to know the whole story and I guess it really does explain what is happening here so I am considering telling it as I have the strength to do so.

Keep in mind It still does not take much to exhaust me. Yesterday I had two medical appointments AND then a farrier visit along with some people coming to see horses. Although I spent much of the barn time in a chair I overdid and will be paying for it for days.


I would like to know what my readers think about this. Are you interested in knowing the whole story? Or would you rather just hear about my horses on this blog?

Labor Day Thoughts

The implication is when Labor Day arrives, summer is gone. Yet, I can't grasp that could be possible when there's been no summer for me. I spent most of last winter longing for summer convinced with it's arrival I'd actually be able to make some progress around this Arabian horse breeding farm of mine.

I had big plans all mapped out for the summer months. I worked hard in the early spring picking rocks and grooming fields to be sure I'd had a good place to work horses so I wouldn't have to commute to the park. I figured by cutting out the commute time, I could get even more done and I had my list all made out of candidates to be started under saddle.

I had even begun some refresher work with my green broke horses. Introducing them to giving to pressure from the bit without sacrificing forward motion. A few of the horses I planned to get started under saddle I actually managed to get introduced to the surcingle and the bit although all I asked them to do was to carry this equipment as I lunged them.

I couldn't wait for the round pen to dry out enough that I could actually use it but it took its sweet time in drying out this year. It was not until I was in the hospital that the rain finally stopped and the dry days began.

As sick as I was, I did notice what the weather was doing. I was lamenting before I ever left the hospital that Mother Nature was not kind. A mental note was made of each riding day missed and that has continued throughout my time at home.

Despite my consternation at this turn of affairs, I have not fought the inevitable. Knowing that pushing beyond my limits would only hinder my recovery, I have stayed within the guidelines and tried not to dwell on the fact that summer was passing me by.

Still with Labor Day jumping up clearly in my face I cannot help but feel sad that an entire summer is now gone and I barely even got a glimpse of it. Let alone that all my plans were lost and there has been no progress with any of my horses. My business plan is going to need a major over haul and I can't even start then until I have some idea of when I will be back, whatever "back" means.

On the whole the horses don't seem to mind. As long as they catch a glimpse of me now and then and I come up with a treat or even a good rub they seem content except for Dandy and Legs. Those two love to work and tend to feel neglected when they don't get that individual time.
I knew that would be the case with those two. To be honest, it warms my heart to know they missed me like that.

I was surprised to see that Storm also seems to have developed that attitude. He was grumpy when I first visited his stall but I thought it was just general attitude. We have had our little power struggles
since his return so I didn't really expect him to be glad to see me.

It took a few trips to the barn for me to realize Storm was actually greeting me as soon as he heard me in the barn. Then it became obvious he is making a concerted effort to seek my attention, banging his door and nickering to bring me near.

It's not just grooming and snacks Storm is seeking. He's tried to leave the stall with me each time I have visited. I know he's getting plenty of turn out time so I know it's not that. Especially since the other day when Percy got tacked up Storm made a huge fuss. There was no doubt in anyone's mind that Storm wasn't trying to claim it was his turn for such attention. I must admit that felt pretty darn good.

I can hardly wait for the day I can climb back in that saddle. It will be interesting to see if this change of attitude in Storm will carry over into what he does under saddle. Who knows. Maybe we will make it into the show ring next year.

For now, as I struggle with this yearning to be working horses instead of just dreaming them, I find myself wondering if I am wishing my life away by wanting winter to come or just trying to turn the page on a crazy chapter in my life. When I think about last winter's weather, I can't help but think I've gotten a bit nuts wishing for winter at all but then I'd gladly take another winter like the last one over a summer like this one any day.

While my recovery seems to be going along at a snail's pace I feel like I am pretty much sleeping my life away so maybe I shouldn't worry about wishing it away. Whatever it takes to get this chapter over with has got to be a good thing.

I haven't gotten into all the details of my illness and the obstacles that have presented themselves. I do plan to post that story but probably not here except for the ways in which those things have affected my life with the horses.

I am FINALLY beginning to feel almost human again, although I don't have much strength. The biggest thing that has affected my post, or lack there of, has been the problems I have had with my eye sight.

I know I have mentioned many times here that I have a very extreme case of double vision. Most of the time since I acquired this disability I have done a pretty good job of coping with it but something happened when I got sick and my coping mechanism deserted me. That has complicated most every aspect of my recovery from my pain tolerance on up to my ability to walk. Of course, foremost on the list has been my ability to read.

It has always been difficult for me to read from those first days after the accident that caused my double vision. I have never, however, had the amount of difficulty reading that I do currently. As much as I am dying of boredom and really missing reading blogs, I am struggling so much with reading that I haven't been able to even get through the reading of a single post with any kind of retention of its content but I continue to try.

I don't know if it's just me or if Blogger has done something but it seems to me that the text is smaller than I remember and I just cannot seem to get my eyes to focus or my brain to adjust enough that I can take in what I am reading. The only way I have been able to post is to write in Notepad where I can adjust the font big enough that I can read it. A little cut and paste and I'm good and I finally am beginning to feel a little better so I hope to get back into more regular posting soon. In the meantime, just know I miss you all and I'm dying to know how your summers went.