Moments of 2010

Life is a series of moments. Sometimes the moments all mesh together as in the day to day. Certain moments stand out. 2010 had moments, that at first glance, I wish hadn't happened, and others that are still making me smile.

I'm going to be a Granny again! There is nothing like it. My sweet Riley has brought me more joy than I could have ever believed. She turned 2 this year and oh the fun we are having together! This time I'm going to be Granny to a beautiful little boy. Ethan Bryant Orlando. I am very excited to meet him in June 2011. He is the son of my youngest daughter, Paige and her husband Jason. If you have read my blog recently you know that Paige and Ethan have been through a really rough time in the short time they have been together. They are both very strong and God is taking care of them. Overwhelmingly happy, grateful, thankful moments.





In my last post I shared some terrifying, heart-aching moments. I am so thankful to have my sweet Paigey and baby Ethan healthy. I'm also very grateful to the many, nurses and doctors who were instrumental in causing that end result. Together with my husband and my precious Ashley our little family held hands and gave each other strength as we prayed and stayed together during these fearful moments. Faith provoking moments.



My sweet sister, Angie, was diagnosed with breast cancer. I cannot begin to explain the moments of despair, anger and sadness at the thoughts of what my sister has and is going to have to go through. They caught it early but hers was aggressive and had become invasive quickly. Two surgeries later and some radiation in the new year and Dr's. say she will be fine. I am distraught that she is suffering, and I am glad that I can understand what she is feeling. There is no woman that I know that is stronger than my sister. She will proudly carry the "survivor" banner, and I will be by her side, as she has been by mine. I am thankful that she will share another life changing experience with me. She is a wonderful person, sister, mother, aunt and Great Aunt Anzhee! Keeping moments of hope for her.



Both of my brothers lost their jobs this year. Jay lost his after many years of loyal service. Loyalty, hard work and integrity was not enough. These are sad times. He has always been willing to give more than the extra mile in everything he chooses to do. Russ lost his job when he became despondent after going through an agonizing divorce that was unexpected and not wanted. His world went from his dreams come true to a nightmare. He lost his focus. His surroundings, including his job, went by the wayside. Both of my brothers are good people. I believe that their lives will become what they want them to be. Moments of belief, God will see them through.

Clyde lost an Aunt who was a very important part of his life as a child. Her death has brought about many difficult emotions. Moments that were once thought of in one way are now construed in another. I pray every day for peace and acceptance of the circumstances. In 2010 we celebrated the 90th birthday of another of Clyde's aunts. (My personal favorite :)) Hazel has the sweetest most giving nature. Moments of her life will always bring a smile to my heart.



I became a great aunt again this year. I have two great nieces now. It saddens me that I am not and probably will not be close to either of these girls, but I will try to let them know that I am a part of their family and I care what happens to them and their families. Wishing for many moments of happiness for these two little girls.



My husband and I celebrated our 29th anniversary this year. The happiness I get from being married to Clyde is indescribable. He is no doubt the "one" for me. I cannot imagine what my life would have been like with out him in it. We are adjusting to the fact that our lives are different now that our children are grown. We treasure our time with our children and grandchildren but our time together, just the two of us, has become a treasure in its own. We have started vacationing. Just the two of us. We love it and look forward to it every year. This year we spent a week in one of our favorite places, Cabo San Lucas. The moments we share will stay with me always.



My niece, Amy Lynn, graduated from LPN school this year. She is still in school working hard on her RN certification. I am so proud of her. I am thankful that I was able to watch as she received her nurses lamp. I see her sweet smile and remember the child she once was, inquisitive and straight forward. She has grown, (not without her own struggles and disappointments in life) to be a wonderful woman making her way through adulthood with grace. Happily, I still see her inquisitiveness and straight forwardness. I hope she always knows how much I love her. The precious moments we spend together hold a special place in my heart.



There have been lots of other moments. Special little moments that would mean nothing to someone else, but mean the world to me. Like the day Riley asked me to dance to one of her favorite songs and we did. Right there in the den, with me holding her and spinning and bouncing and her giggling up a storm. When the song ended she let me squeeze her tight (which for a 2 year old is a big deal!) and hold her for a minute. At that very moment I thanked God for letting me have that moment with her.

So at second glance, even the most desperate of moments, have reinforced my belief that all moments, whether good or bad, happen for a reason. Life continues according to Gods plan. Whether I like it or not, 2010 taught me more than I wanted to learn, but I know now that I am stronger in my faith.

I hope that the moments of 2011 enhance your faith and fill your hearts with joy.

Aching hearts

Two weeks ago I experienced one of the most agonizing days I've ever had. My 24 year old daughter, 12 weeks pregnant, underwent a procedure on her heart to draw fluid from the pericardial sac. She had been diagnosed with pericardial effusion. An accumulation of excess fluid around the heart. My emotions are still on edge, but in writing this and seeing it in black and white, I am hoping to ease my mind. While my heart is full of praise to God, for allowing my child and future grandchild, to survive this ordeal, I still struggle with the "what if's" that continue to go through my head.

Paige's pregnancy has been a roller coaster from the beginning. It started with a small panic when she unexpectedly discovered (very early) she was pregnant. She'd had a recent x-ray and was worried that it may have harmed a baby she wasn't aware she was carrying. An early ultrasound (to be on the safe side), ordered by her very attentive OB, Dr. Carl Dobson, showed the baby was growing and it's tiny heart was beating soundly. The ultrasound also showed a small subchorionic hemorrhage. Another couple of weeks of panic, until they determined that it was a small spot and had she not found out so early that she was pregnant, probably would have absorbed and she wouldn't have even known it was there.

What turned out to be a tiny, unremarkable problem caused a chain of events that eventually led to the discovery of the problem with Paige's heart. Because of the hemorrhage, Dr. Dobson wanted to see Paige more than usual to keep an eye out for bleeding or growth in the hemorrhage. Paige who has always been very thin, started to show and gain a significant amount of weight by 8 weeks. Her face, hands, legs and ankles started to swell notably. She asked Dr. Dobson about it and he talked to her about reducing her sodium and drinking lots of water with lemon as a natural diuretic. By her next visit, she had gained 8 lbs in two weeks, she was having shortness of breath and periods of time where her heart felt as though it were racing. She couldn't lay flat without struggling to breathe and was having difficulty sleeping. Dr. Dobson referred her to a high risk pregnancy group, to work in conjunction with him, and get an outside opinion on what might be happening. He thought that a surge in progesterone might be what was causing the swelling but since it was so early he thought it necessary to rule out any other issues. I am so thankful that he is not one of those Dr.'s with a huge ego and is not afraid to say, "I'd like to get another perspective on this one."

The Maternal Fetal Group is based in Nashville and affiliated with Centennial Hospital. They specialize in high risk pregnancies and they also have an office in Bowling Green. Within a few days, Dr. Dobson's office made an appointment for Paige, in Bowling Green, with Dr. Lenzi. They performed an ultrasound, again showing that sweet baby's heart beating, and growing. Dr. Lenzi, took a family history and talked to Paige for a long time, about how she was feeling. She agreed that her swelling could be caused by her body reacting to a surge of progesterone but said she would like to rule out the worst case scenarios first. (I am so thankful for good Dr's!!) Dr. Lenzi definitely wanted to check her heart, lungs, and kidneys, along with some other possible vitamin deficiencies. Paige agreed to the treatment but explained, that with her job, she needed to condense these appointments so as not to miss more work than necessary. Dr. Lenzi's office made an appointment with a cardiologist for a consult and echocardiogram, wrote an order for blood work and a 24 hour urine catch to check for protein in her kidneys. The plan was to see the cardiologist the next day, perform the 24 hour urine catch on Sunday, so that she could take it to the lab on Monday and have her blood drawn for the other tests, allowing enough time for most of the results to be sent to Dr. Dobson's office by Monday afternoon, when Paige was scheduled to see him again. Sounds easy enough doesn't it? Two Dr.'s understanding and listening to their patient. Shouldn't that be the way it always is?

The cardiologist they referred her too was Dr. Tullio Emanuele. The appointment turned out to be the start of a nightmare. This Dr. has the worst bedside manner of any Dr. I have ever had the misfortune to see. (and belive me when I say this, as many health issues I've had, I've seen alot of them!!) Paige was a new patient so they performed an EKG, took her blood pressure, which was normal, and weighed her at 140 pounds, all standard procedure for that office. When Paige first realized she was pregnant she weighed about 124, in 12 weeks she had already gained 16 pounds. Dr. Emanuelle made his appearance, and asked Paige what her problems were. She explained about her swelling, her shortness of breath, and racing heart feelings. He continued to question her, but it appeared to both of us that he was trying to figure out why she had been sent to him. He asked her repeatedly about whether or not she had ever done any strenuous activity, be it in school or on her own. When she told him she danced ballet from the age of 5 through 18, and that she and Jason walked alot with their very active puppy since marriage. He replied he didn't think that was too strenuous. He kept looking from her to me, to her file and back again. His manner was distant and uncaring. He said he would order an echo and would see her in a few days. I told him that the echo was supposed to be performed at this appointment. Dr. Lenzi ordered the echo and consult with him for the same day. I explained that the days Paige was missing at work were causing some additional stress, and since the plan was to have everything done by her next appointment with Dr. Dobson, we needed to get the echo done as scheduled. This did not go over well, to say the least. Dr. Emanuele informed me that "he" was the one who would order the echo and it could not be done today because the tech had a full schedule. I insisted again that the appointment was supposed to already have been made. He continued to look from Paige, to me, to her file and back. I then asked if the EKG was normal. He answered quite sharply, "No, it's not." In my mind, this was all the more reason to go ahead with the echo today, . He left the room going to check again to see where the misunderstanding was and came back adamant that the echo would not be done until another day and we would need to make an appointment. As we walked out of the exam room, he basically left us standing outside the exam room door and went in the opposite direction from which we came. Paige was near tears and said, "I really don't like him!" I found the tech that perfomed the EKG and asked her to show us out. While trying to make the echo appointment, we explained to the woman behind the desk that we had expected to have it done today, and since that was not going to happen would it be possible to have it done Monday and be able to see the Dr. immediately after. She was trying to get it worked out when Dr. Emanuele walked by, behind her. She turned to ask him if he could see us immediately after the echo on Monday, and he angrily shook his head, waved his hands and said "WE'VE BEEN THROUGH THIS!". Although by this time I was seething, I quite calmly said, "we are talking about Monday", to which he turned and walked off. I asked the girl if he was always that way, to which she replied "oh, it's not you"! I apologized and explained to the girl that I was not blaming her for anything. I didn't intend to be pushy, but it's my daughter we are talking about, and her health and stress level was my first concern. At first it did not appear that she was going to be able to get us in on Monday. I looked at Paige and said, OK, let's just step back and regroup and see if we can get in somewhere else. Amazingly, about the time I said this, the girl was able to work out the echo, and Dr. appointment all before noon on Monday. As we left the building, Paige really started to cry and said, "Mom, I really don't want to see him again!"

My husband had an injury several years earlier and saw a wonderful thoracic surgeon by the name of Dr. Paul Moore. I thought he might be willing to guide us, as to what to do. I told her we would try to see if Dr. Moore could see her or at least see if he knew who else we could turn to. I said "Let's not cancel this appointment yet, because I think it needs to be done as soon as possible, but if we can get in somewhere earlier we'll do it."

This is when God took over. We went to Dr. Moore's office and just laid it out there, to the nurse behind the desk. Bless her heart, I'm sure she thought I was an overbearing, over reacting mother, but she was very sweet and said that Dr. Moore was out of town, and that he was a surgeon not a cardiologist and probably couldn't help her. I asked if someone could just guide us to another Dr. that might show a little more compassion and concern in a relatively short amount of time. She said I'll let you talk to Don. Don worked for Dr. Moore back at the time my husband saw him and we had recently seen him attending the same church we do. Don Johnson has a business card that identifies him as a Cardiology Nurse Liason. It fails to identify him as God's angel. He listened to our story, assured us that Dr. Emanuele was a fine cardiologist, "but", he said, "sometimes personalities just don't jive." (That's putting it in as nice a way as I can imagine!) Paige told him that she really would rather not go back to his office. He then immediately got on the phone. While listening and asking questions about our predicament, reassuring us that he thought he could help, and a couple of "I'll call you right backs" he worked a miracle. Within a few minutes he was walking us down stairs to OutPatient Services where Paige had an appointment for an echo. He told us that it had been worked out that cardiologist, Dr. Beth Bryant would be willing to read the echo and see Paige on Monday for a consult before her appointment with Dr. Dobson. No issues, no negativity, no procrastinating. Don left us with a smile and a "Good luck, I'll see ya'll." Paige, feeling much calmer and more relieved, called and cancelled her Monday appointment with Dr. Emanuele. The relief on my child's face let me know that we had done the right thing. What a day this had been! At this point my emotions had run the gamut. I was finally feeling somewhat relieved that things were working out and Paige was smiling! Isn't it amazing what a child's smile can do to a mother's heart. Unfortunately these feelings would soon change and I was not to see that smile again for several days.

The tech that performed the echocardiogram was the second angel on earth we ran into that day. I will always remember her. She was a gorgeous little red head named Lori. She was friendly, polite, calm, and compassionate to our story. As she started the ultrasound she asked Paige if she was in any pain or experiencing shortness of breath right then. Paige said no pain, just pressure, and it was difficult to breathe when she was laying down. Lori talked calmly and reassuringly throughout the test. When she finished she asked us to wait, told Paige to go ahead and dress but she needed to check to make sure the pictures turned out. I thought that was odd, but said nothing to Paige. Why would she tell her to dress if there was a possiblity she may have to redo some of the pictures? When she came back she told us what she saw and that she had called Don and he would be in to see us in a minute. What Lori said made my heart take a nose dive. I watched her looking at and talking to my baby, I watched her expressions, I looked at her eyes and I heard her voice. I saw great concern in a face of calm. I kept waiting for the "but don't worry." Those three words were not spoken. The reason Paige's EKG was not normal, was because she had fluid around her heart. Alot of fluid. Normally a person has about 1mm of fluid in the pericardium, Paige had 3cm. Lori said if she were to guess it would be about 2 liters. She also said, "I don't think you should wait through the weekend. You need to have something done and Don is working on that now." Within minutes Don came in and explained more about what was happening to Paige and what he was trying to do. The other cardiologist, Dr. Beth Bryant, who was not on call, but happened to be in the hospital, was going to come and talk to her. This was serious and needed attention. Immediately.

As I write, my heart is pounding and my eyes are tearing remembering this moment. Paige was scared, starting to cry, worrying about the baby, while I sat, knowing I had to stay strong and in control, but wanting to cry and worrying about my baby. I had to do something so I took action and made calls to Jason(my son in law), my husband, and my oldest daughter, Ashley. By the time Dr. Bryant came in and started talking to us, wheels were already in motion to send Paige to Nashville. She said that her normal blood pressure and lack of chest pain made this difficult to understand. She said until she saw the echo, she would not have believed how serious Paige's condition was. Paige was walking around and functioning while most people would have been in the hospital barely able to sit up. Dr. Bryant gently explained that there were not any available cardiologists in Bowling Green, who wanted to perform the procedure she would need, due to her pregnancy. Everyone thought it would be better to have a cardilogy team and OB team work together. It was decided that she would be sent to Centennial Hospital in Nashville, ER to ER. The rest of the family arrived and she was admitted to the ER, just long enough to get her ready for transport. I did not realize then, that my baby would be put in an ambulance, lights on and sirens blaring for the 70 mile drive.

The EMS team graciously allowed Jason to ride with them. I know that's his place now and that is how it should be, but my heart kept saying that's MY baby. I didn't know if I would be able to stand to let them leave without me by her side. I knew her condition was serious and the realization began to hit me, HARD. The "what ifs" started and I cannot describe the pain they caused. While the EMS team were preparing Paige for the trip, Clyde and Ashley went to retrieve the cars so that we would not be far behind the ambulance, I sat in the waiting room alone. Don Johnson came from the ER to let me know she was almost ready, he sat in the empty chair beside me and looked straight ahead. I still had not cried. I asked about the baby, if anyone had checked it to give Paige some peace of mind. He looked at me and said, "You need to understand that right now, with the fetus at 12 weeks, it will not be viable without it's mother. They will only be concerned with Paige and saving her life." I remember thinking, he just called that sweet child, soon to be my grandchild, a fetus, To us, it's Paige and Jason's baby. I knew Paige would be devestated. I nodded my head in understanding because while I knew it, hearing it made it seem so much more real. He told me when the others got back we could go in and be with her until she left which would be just a few minutes. Everything was quickly becoming a blur. When we kissed her goodbye, I felt like I was going to burst. She was crying and scared and I was telling her, we'd meet her at the hospital, and she was going to be fine. She looked at me and said are you saying that because you believe it, or to make me feel better? Her question jerked me into the realization that I had to keep my faith! I told her that I believed it. It wasn't a lie, the "what ifs" were just that and I believe that God hears and answers prayers. He definitely heard mine, loud and clear. Paige is at home now, still recovering, and still looking forward to her baby's birth in June.

I have cried. Not the screaming all out boo hooing that I know will come. Most likely it will come out of the blue. It will probably be ugly. Hopefully I will be alone and able to get it out without causing anyone else to be upset.

There were many more moments the 3 nights and 4 days in the hospital. Like the morning I slipped into her room at 5:00am. Clyde and I had spent a couple of nights in chairs in the CCU waiting room, I suddenly felt refreshed as I saw her sleeping peacefully. Her swelling down, looking more like herself than she had in weeks, and seeing her devoted husband sound asleep in the floor beside her bed. Those moments are for another days writing. The wonderful nurses and doctors at Centennial Hospital, will all get their due as I will never be able to say enough about their excellent care of her.

As my sweet Ashley reminds me often, God is good all the time, All the time, God is good!

Christmas Card

Merry Duo Story Christmas Card

Make a statement with Shutterfly Christmas photo cards.

View the entire collection of cards.

Sharing Shutterfly

As we approach the end of another year, I've got alot of reflections to sort through. Some I'll share, some I'll keep.

But today, I don't feel like sharing anything except the fact that my favorite online photo site is Shutterfly. I love the site for several reasons. First, it is where I have all my photos stored. Shutterfly offers unlimited, online storage for all of your photos. Second, it offers a free online shared photos site, which I love, especially now that I am a Granny!

I have ordered hundreds of excellent quality photos from Shutterfly, not to mention photo books, which make great Christmas gifts. I've given photo books for Christmas for several years in a row, to the delight of many of my friends and family. Their holiday cards are beautfully printed and it is so easy to upload your own photo and create your own personalized greeting. I love getting photo cards at Christmas. I have a scrapbook full of Shutterfly photo cards that have been sent to us through the years. I enjoy looking back on them from year to year to see how families have grown and changed. My favorite is one that my daughter sent the year she found out she was pregnant. The card included an ultrasound photo of my soon to be granddaughter. I will always treasure that particular one. It's a wonderful way to keep up with changes in the lives of your friends and family. If you haven't ordered yours yet, check out all of the great designs that are offered this year. This is one of my favorites from the choices this year. Since I went to the beach for vacation, I think I have the perfect photo for this design!

Right now they are offering free shipping on orders over $50, by using Promo Code SHIP50 and they are also offering up to 30% off on cards. So now is the time to order, they are really quick with processing and delivery so you have plenty of time before Christmas to get yours delivered, and if you are a procrastinator they even offer New Year's cards like this one. You can't get cuter than that, and what a great way to start the year for your friends and family!

Plus for the bloggers out there, Shutterfly is giving away 50 free Holiday Photo cards to any blogger that blogs about their experience with Shutterfly. Click here http://blog.shutterfly.com/5358/holiday2010-blog-submission-form/ for more information. Now isn't that a nice gift for Christmas! Thanks Shutterfly!

7 years blessed

7 years ago today, I underwent surgery for breast cancer. I have survived the "C" word for 7 years. I am thankful for the past 7 years. A lot has happened that I am blessed to have been here on earth for. Both of my daughters graduated from college and married in the last 7 years. My oldest daughter gave me the wonderful gift of a granddaughter in the last 7 years. I got to celebrate 7 more wedding anniversaries with my husband including a 25th! I have become a great aunt, and I'm getting ready to watch my neice graduate from nursing school. I have seen places that I always wanted to see. I have gotten to hear my granddaughter call me Granny and give me "big hugs"! I'm experiencing the process of aging, wrinkles, gray hair, arthritis, etc. I have lost family members. I have witnessed the suffering of friends who have lost loved ones to the "C" word and other maladies. I have lived knowing every day is a gift, and while "every" day of the last 7 years has not included celebrations of anniversaries, graduations, weddings, and births, every day is still a day to celebrate the day that the Lord has made. I am grateful to have been here to experience all of it!

I've had my share of illness and I consider myself a good patient. I don't order the nurses or office staff around, I say yes ma'am and thank you. I do what they ask, and try to help them help me. I never call a Dr by his/her first name, no matter how many years I've been treated by them. The health care workers that I have come in contact with, seem to appreciate the way I respond to them. So why do I find myself so irritated every time I deal with the medical field? Well,let me share what I went through during my last medical visit and you'll understand.

Not too long ago, I took a trip to the emergency room. I was sitting at home, in my chair, talking to my husband, laptop in use when............. the next thing I knew, I was in the floor with an EMT hovering over me asking if I knew my name. I wasn't sure what had happened, but I had obviously scared my husband to death, so off I went with my new found EMT friend. She talked to me all the way to the hospital, told me everything she was doing, starting an IV, putting the patches on my chest to watch my heart rhythms, etc. She was very nice and seemed to genuinely want to help me. The ride was uneventful, but I was still a little shaky, somewhat nauseous and unsure of what had happened. At the hospital I was transfered to a bed in the ER, introduced to a Dr. (whose name I can't remember), listened while the EMT's gave him my story according to my husband, filled in with some uh huh's or uh uh's when they asked me questions that I knew the answer to and said goodbye to my EMT friend as she wished me well and left. Then the "fun" began.


First of all, I don't know about you, but I can't tell the difference between the nurses and the other hospital workers. They all wear scrubs and/or lab coats, so unless they come in and tell me what their position is, I don't know. So I'll call them as I saw them :)

My first visitor, (scrubs wearer #1) came in to take blood. I am a breast cancer survivor who endured a regimen of chemo. Because they removed lymph nodes at the breast removal site, I am not supposed to have blood pressure or needle sticks in that arm. This caused a problem right off the bat. NOBODY wants to take blood from my right arm, they pick up my left arm and I pull it down and say "sorry, you have to stick the other arm". Then they usually pin or tape a sign on my gown, on the door of the room, above the head of my bed, in my chart, etc.. I guess this lets everyone else know, this one is trouble! Sort of like wearing a scarlet letter only this is usually a huge sign written in Sharpie! Of course the veins in my right arm are terrible, small and weak because, you guessed it, that's the arm they injected with the chemo. Anyway, my first scrub wearer was a nervous wreck when she could not find a suitable vein, even though she patted, rubbed, and squeezed the rubber band around my upper arm, turned it over, looked it up and down, patted some more, but, for the life of her she just could not decide which vein to try. I tried to be helpful and show her where I had blood drawn last, but she didn't like the looks of that area. She tried once... no luck. She continued to squeeze, pat, rub and look my arm over.

My second visitor another scrubs wearer, came in to check to be sure that all my wires and such were attached. They began to chat amongst themselves. Talking about other co-workers. Scrubs wearer #2 opened the trash can to throw away some of the sticky things from the electrodes and KABAM!!**!!, the worst smell I have ever inhaled escaped from that trash can. Her face turned red and she looked at scrubs wearer #1 and said "Oh my gosh, can you smell that?" I was already nauseated, and I said, "Uuugghhh I can smell it, what is it?" She turned even redder then said "Oh it's just the trash." Sorry, folks, but that was not trash!! It was something in the trash, but not trash!! It was awful. Scrubs wearer #1 did not reply but changed the subject and started fretting over the time it was taking her to get my blood drawn. She discussed with scrubs wearer #2 about whether or not "Martha" was going to get on her for taking so long. She tried for the second time, this time she got in the vein, but collapsed it after a couple of drops. About that time, scrubs wearer #3 entered the room, and asked how it was going. She gave a few suggestions as to which type of needle to use and then told scrubs wearer #1 to come with her. At this point I was assuming this was "Martha". She looked at me and said, "We'll be back, we are going to get some supplies." They left and scrubs wearer #2 left behind them. Sometime during all of this my husband and 2 daughters were allowed to come back to my room, fortunately for them, they missed the trash smell. I told them about it as soon as we were alone and begged them not to open the lid of the trash can. My oldest daughter was distressed at the condition of the room and started talking about blood and hair on the floor under my bed. I assured her that it was not mine, because 2 drops of blood was about all they had gotten out of me and no one had touched my hair. What with the blood, hair, and my stinky trash story, she was all ready to "discuss" the issue with someone.

Enter...Scrubs wearer #4. This one; I remember her name. Tabitha. So, in comes Tabitha, saying, "I'm here to suck some blood out of you". I think she was trying to be funny, but I was in the middle of reading the "Twighlight" series of books, so.....not so funny. I told her that the other girl was gone to get supplies and she said "I am the supplies!". Cocky or confident, I'm not sure. Regardless, she began the process of finding a vein. Again with the rubber band, squeezing, patting, dangling, turning the arm over and over, she was not, shall we say, 'cautious', as the first girl was. She went for it, and blew it, the vien, that is, then tried again, got a little blood, and collapsed another one. By now, I had cotton balls taped all over my arms. So... Ms. "I am your supplies" decided that the only way to get enough blood for the tests ordered was to prick my finger and squeeze until she filled all of her vials. Twenty minutes of squeezing, she decided she had enough. My finger was sore for a week! While she squeezed (luckily she was not sucking) she talked to us. She asked which Dr. I had. I didn't know his name, so I described him the best I could. He talked and looked sort of military like, had a flat top, was confident that he would prove that I had a seizure. Tabitha, says, "Oh yeah, I know who you are talking about, he sucks!" {What is it about this girl with her "suck" fetish????} It was a little unnerving to think that this girl, a co-worker of my doctor, had the nerve to tell "me", (who by the way was the patient of said Dr), that the Dr. treating me wasn't any good. Or is that what she meant? Did she mean, sucks, as in he was a bad Dr? Or, sucks, as in she didn't like him as a person or co-worker? Or was she reading the "Twilight" series too? Either way, she didn't have time to explain herself because scrubs wearer #5, (this time, a male) came in to take me to have some sort of test run. I had been asking since scrubs wearer #1 came in to use the restroom. Luckily I was allowed to take care of that before I left with him. My daughters accompanied me down the hall to take care of business and when we got back to the room, the transporter was not there so the family had a chance to talk again. My oldest again spoke up about the unprofessional way the "blood sucker" had behaved. She remembered going to school with her and said her name was Tabitha. So Tabitha the blood sucking, finger squeezing, cocky scrubs wearer #4, did not make a good impression.

I behaved myself and went with the flow, having tests run etc. This took hours, we came in about dinner time and well up into the night we were still waiting. The nurses desk was right outside my door. We had been listening to them all evening. Deciding whether someone was going to Taco Bell and bring back dinner for everyone, what "he" said and "she" said to so and so, etc. It was apparent that some were extremely busy, while others just kind of hung around to shoot the sh**. After I had been taken for tests, no one came in to check on me. NO ONE. I was in the hospital for a suspected seizure and no one came in. During this time, my IV fluid bag ran out. My husband stepped out the door and asked one of the scrubs wearers if she would check on it. She said let me get some one. No one came. He waited about 45 minutes and went out to ask again. This time she came in, looked to see that the bag was indeed empty, then said, I'll get someone. Again, no one came. The machine was running trying to push fluids through the needle, with no fluid in the bag. No one came to turn off the machine and unhook the empty bag until the Dr. admitted me that night. We were all exhausted, so I sent the girls home and my husband stayed with me.

Just when I thought things were going to calm down, in came the floor nurse, wanting to take all my information. We went through the same information sheet that they had done downstairs in the ER. I was getting a little irritable at this point, and I wanted to say, do you not share information within your own hospital! I didn't. Like I said, I'm a good patient, and she (a scrubs wearer) was just doing her job. Finally about 1:00am, they left us alone for a few hours of sleep.

Their were a couple of other things that made my jaw tighten. I have been on medication for years. I took one particular medicine for 5 years. It was a 10mg tablet, that I took twice a day. About a year ago, I was put on a different medication, it is a 2.5mg tablet, once a day. In the ER when I was answering the sheet of questions I mistakenly told them I was on 10mg of my current medicine once a day. No one checked to see if I was correct, even though the medication I'm on now is not in a 10mg tablet,(I found this out later) nor is it a recommended dosage for anyone for any reason. I questioned why I was taking 4 tablets instead of one, and the nurse said that's 10mg. I take some of the blame for telling them incorrectly. I am extremely happy that an overdose of this particular medicine for 3 days is not life altering. I'm a good patient, I took the medicine. I was sent for many tests throughout my stay. During one I was pushed down a hall, into an empty room and left. I was drowsy from medication and lack of sleep, and woke up to a technician raising cain because someone just left me in her room without supervision or telling her that I was in there. She had a point, I was in the hospital for a suspected seizure and probably should not have been left alone. I was on a heart monitor that someone unplugged during all these tests. In the middle of the night a scrubs wearer came in and fussed because she was getting calls from telemetry telling her they weren't getting a reading and someone needed to check. She wanted to know why I hadn't been hooked back up. I guess it's a good thing that they weren't getting a reading because my heart had stopped. :~ I spent three days and nights with the Medical Center and for some reason at about 3:00am one morning it was important to wake me up to weigh me. I was very cranky, but I bit my tongue and complied and said thank you when they finished. Like I said, I'm a good patient!

Once I was admitted to a floor in the hospital, I have to say the nurses that took care of me, really took care of me. I knew who was the nurse and who was the tech because they came in and wrote their names on a dry erase board every shift change. These women were unbelievable. The respect I have for nurses and techs too, is undeniable. I could not do what they do. The shifts that they work are gueling, the responsiblities they have are bound to be burdensome. They still took the time to get to know my family and talk grandchildren with me. They were amazingly friendly, and seemed to work much harder and seemed to have less time to decide if they were going to eat Taco Bell, than the "scrubs wearers" in the ER. Maybe because they were taking care of me!

People like me write things like this and seem ungrateful. I really appreciate nurses and techs. That's why I try to be a good patient. I am so grateful for their care and that they choose to live their lives by making a difference in the lives of people who really need them!

To answer my own question, my irritation comes from the way the system works. I guess it's that way in every field. You have those who really want to do their job well. It's not just a job for them, it's part of their life. Then you have those who think it's a good way to make money and a great career choice because people are always going to get sick. Yes, my stay at the Medical Center made the hospital money. A lot of money according to my bill. It helped pay Tabitha's salary and gave her job security. The difference lies here. I am a patient, not product, a person, not a commodity. The hospital personnel that knows the difference are the ones that I will contine to respect, and be in awe of their self sacrifice and sense of duty to their patients.

As a side note, I talked to a couple of my personal Dr's about my Medical Center experience. Both of them told me I should call and ask to speak to a patient representative. "The Medical Center will want to know about these things." One of them was really concerned about the medication mistake. He used to head a committee that watched over that sort of thing. "Call them" he said. I called, I filed a report, after several weeks they contacted me by letter saying basically this. The Medical Center is sorry, we were busy, things don't always get done like they are supposed to, but we try. The pharmacist didn't see anything wrong with that dosage of medication. (Remember now, the prescribing Dr. told me that is not an accepted dosage of that medication for any reason) I came away from the experience with, it is what it is. But......I have decided, I will continue to be a good patient, I will say thank you and yes ma'am. I will help my care givers help me, but I will not always tighten my jaw and go with the flow. In fact, I may flap my jaws a little. Kind of like I did here!

Moments to share

I've been thinking about sharing some of the moments in my life. Some moments are just too good to keep to yourself, and others just need to be ranted about.

My sister told me that, writing down my thoughts will release the stress of difficulties in life. "It helps to get it off your chest. Put it all out there in black and white" she said. Does ranting and raving in print sound less like ranting and raving? Hmm, I wonder.

I follow a few blogs. Most of them for entertainment, some for inspiration and some I follow because people interest me. I think about the thought processes of other people and how they deal with the moments of their life. What path did someone follow to live a particular moment in their life? How does anyone know, what moments in life are worth writing down to share with someone you don't even know?

I'm 48 years old. Does any one care, if I share my wonderful moments or my ranting and raving moments? After thinking about it, I've decided it doesn't matter. Life's moments are not about that. Deciding to share a moment, or a thought, or a rant and rave, should not have a "who's going to see you do it" attached to it. Sharing the moments should give the author, personal satisfaction. A written reminder of "the" moment. A picture of words, if you will.

As the saying goes, "it's not about the number of breaths we take, but the number of moments that take our breath". So good moments or bad, shared or not, I think I'll write about some of them.

Everyday is a present. Open it and see what you get.