Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘doctors’

pexels-photo-3952231.jpeg

Photo by cottonbro on Pexels.com

I am one of those people with invisible veins.  I hate getting blood tests!  They leave me slightly nauseous, sometimes black and blue.

This leads me to my most recent blood letting encounter during the time of Covid-19.

First off, the sweet girl who first made my doctor’s appointment, said she would fax the blood test order to the lab.  In about a week I was mentally and emotionally sort of ready but had a funny feeling that nothing had been faxed, so I called to check.

Sure enough.  It had not been done.  But the next sweet girl who spotted the mistake said she would fax the order over immediately.  I took her at her word.

O.K.  I was again sort of ready.  It was early Friday morning and I had fasted for 12 hours, drove to the lab and then stood outside in the fresh air with mask on.  A sweet girl asked a series of questions regarding any possible virus exposure, then put a little squirt of hand sanitizer in my hand and said, “Sign in at the desk” and then sit in any chair with orange tape (the chairs were 6 feet apart to honor social distancing).  There were only one or two chairs left because the place was packed.

I was greatly impressed by all the protective measures, that is until following orders, I went to the desk to sign in.  There was a pencil on a string that loomed larger and larger in my imagination.

Who exactly had touched that pencil?

Where had their hands been until they reached the sign-in point?

Yes, I was given hand sanitizer but was it enough to make me sterile?

If I touched that pencil would I die?

Was it worth it?

I mean, to die following orders?

You can tell, I am a follower of orders AND a worrier.

But I did sign in using that contaminated, pestilence covered pencil!

And I made a note of the date to count off the days til I would come down with the virus!

But the story continues.

I waited and waited and waited.  I waited an hour.  And while I waited a young woman came to the door and was answering all the probing questions.  “Have you been around anyone who tested positive for the coronavirus?”  Her answer was, “Yes.”   (!!!!!!)

At that point, I left.  That was Friday.

On Monday I returned and the lab was again packed so I turned around and went to the doctor’s office to tell them I could not get a blood test in preparation for the appointment.  They changed the appointment to give me more time.

On the third try, I fasted from 10PM to 10AM and went to the lab again. This time I was the only person there!

The problem was they did not have an order from my doctor!  So, the second sweet girl forgot to fax the order over too.  This was beginning to literally be a comedy of errors!

Fortunately my blood-letter lady called the doctor’s office and they faxed it over while we sat and chatted.  Thankfully, I was the only patient in the place. And my blood-letter was an expert and got what she needed on the first try.

Now let’s hope the blood test shows everything normal and that I will not have to get another test for 6 months or a year.  And mostly, let’s hope I am mistaken about the Pandemic Laden Pencil used for sign-in at the lab!

 

Read Full Post »

neon signage

Photo by Ivan Bertolazzi on Pexels.com

I like to say I am growing old instead of already old.  It gives me a better feel for how to feel when the most vulnerable population to the Covid-19 virus is touted as 60+ or 80+ or somewhere inbetween.

In any case, there always seem to be new rules about coping with this virus.  I know you are dying to hear them…. forgive the pun.  The world is coping but there are consistently more confusing theories about how the virus is spread and regulations regulating how we should lead our lives in the midst of what I call Viral Confusion.

For instance:

When I was a kid, you did not go to a doctor unless you were sick – maybe even really sick.  That seems to be the case now too.

2020 Pandemic Rules

Do not go to a doctor unless you feel sick.  And even then, call first to see if he/she will let you in.  Will this eventually even lead to doctors making house calls again?  When our son developed a very high fever, panic set in and we called the doctor who came to our house in 20 minutes, but by that time, the fever was gone.  And I don’t think the doc even charged for the visit!

Ah for the good old days.

Do not go to a dentist unless you have a bad toothache.   Dentists are just now reopening in my neck of the woods and I think they can be called for more mundance things like cleaning.  Check to be sure where you live.

But in the good old days, Mom would give me a clove to suck on or an ice cube – anything but the dentist – to cope with pain.  She was deathly afraid of dentists but finally when I was 14 and had a bad toothache, she made an appointment.  The dentist found one cavity for every year I had lived and I spent the next 14 weeks getting cavities filled (minus Novocaine!).  In those days you raised your hand if the pain was too bad.

Did I say I was growing old or already old?  Is pre-Novocaine ancient or what?

Ah for the good old days.

The new scary deadly virus has made me re-evaluate the wonders of staying home.  But what about positive changes?  Take clearer water.  They say you can see the fish in Venice canals now. I would love to take a gondola ride again but this time in clear water.

And now that there is more testing going on, some say if you are blood type O, you have a better chance of not catching the virus or maybe even surviving it.  Maybe I can go out sans mask and celebrate shoulder to shoulder in a crowd since I am in the O category.

Or if your ring finger is shorter or longer than the rest, you may or may not be in trouble re the virus.  I keep forgetting to size my ring finger.

And how about the urge to flush the toilet without putting the lid down?  Do you know how volatile the spray can be as you flush?!

Screaming spreads more virus than talking.  Talking may be the New Nasty Culprit that spreads the damned thing.

Disinfecting every surface on earth is no longer advised but don’t stop washing your hands.  You may have touched something evil.

All this speculation makes me wonder what people did in the real good old days of The Plague and Cholera.  The more I hear or read, the more I ponder this pandemic and all its pros and cons.

Stay Safe is the new Farewell, especially in our emerging “New Normal.”

Stay Safe my friends.

Stay Safe.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Read Full Post »

20180815_144241

BigFoot was on the road again.

On the mend again.

Shrunken to a normal size.

Ahhhh!

And after nearly three years in and out of a Big Boot or hobbling around with a cane or crutches, or gliding on a knee scooter, BigFoot FINALLY started WALKING!

But wait.

There is now a BlueToe on the SkinnyFoot, thanks to a “maintenance visit” for a Podiatrist’s professional pedicure!

I always liked my podiatrist even though he frightened me occasionally with ragged pedicures.

But who am I to question the cutting techniques of an accredited podiatrist?

Note:  Old people tend to elevate doctors to godly pedestals of eternal wisdom.

On this visit the good doctor once again cut a ragged edge and managed a very jagged cut on the SkinnyFoot’s Big Toe.

And this instantly caused a blue spot at the base of the nail.

Ever so politely, I asked, “What is that?”

And the doc said, “You must have stubbed it or something fell on it.  Not to worry, it will heal in time.”

I took him at his word of course even though I knew there was no blue spot when I walked in and I had not stubbed my toe or dropped anything on it.

Old people tend to accept anything a doctor says, particularly if he is wearing a white coat!

And it was only a little blue spot after all.  It would undoubtedly heal with time.

So off I went to PT (Physical Therapy).

And the Physical Therapist immediately gasped and  asked, “Who butchered your toe?”

After hearing my story and since the entire toenail had turned a beautiful blue, she said, “Go see your family doctor ASAP!”

Metallic blue toenails are the “in” thing now.  And that’s how BigFoot’s Big Toe looked….. blue.

Hmmmm.  Do you think I should I go to a salon and get the other nine nails painted to match?

“A good thing you came in,” said my family doctor.  “Looks like a blood blister. It will probably be fine. But watch and come back if you notice red streaks going up the foot or there is swelling or fever.  Also soak the toe in salt water twice a day and apply antibacterial ointment.”

That was two weeks ago.

BigFoot’s Big Toe is still Blue.

Seems to be healing but I am afraid to wear closed toed shoes for fear of aggravating.

Will I lose the nail?  Too soon to tell.

But this much is sure:

I will lose the Podiatrist.

Read Full Post »

hospitalYesterday  my friend spent the morning at one of our best-in-Virginia  hospitals.  She took her husband there for surgery.

While waiting for word of his condition, she developed a splitting headache and asked the nurse for an aspirin.

“Sorry, we can’t give out meds – even the over-the counter type,” the nurse replied.  “Check in the pharmacy though.”

The pharmacy (which no doubt only fills prescriptions because it is a hospital after all) is a far piece from the waiting room and my friend did not want to leave her spot.

The hospital gift shop is also a far trek when you are waiting for a loved one to emerge from surgery and there is no guarantee a gift shop would have over-the-counter pain meds anyway.

Obviously my friend wanted to be nearby to get the status of her husband’s recovery from surgery.

She grinned and bore it.

Ever hear the saying, “Water water everywhere and not a drop to drink?”

 

 

 

 

Read Full Post »

When I was young and wrinkle free (never mind care free), I thought the first sign of aging would be a gray hair followed by a wrinkle.  I also believed the old hag image could be avoided by eating and sleeping right and using all the miracle creams advertised on television and in magazines.

Hope is a many splendored thing, but the truth is harder to take.

Over time, there were signals that healthy living and preening were not quite succeeding:

  1. Police-people began to look like children. I wondered why little kids were assigned for protection.
  2. My doctor was the same age as my son!  He is still the same age as my son but now they both look middle aged while I still feel 18. (?)  Who can explain this?  Note:  I didn’t say I LOOK 18!
  3. Then a nice young man at the supermarket began saying, “Yes Maam.”  Was he talking to ME? REALLY?  Should I call him “Son?”
  4. Then another nice young man somewhere opened a door for me.  Hasn’t he heard that chivalry is already dead?  YOUNG women open their own doors. I CAN OPEN MY OWN DOOR – THANK YOU!
  5. Oh NO!  the first gray hair came and went (ouch!) but suddenly there were waaaay too many.
  6. The first wrinkle was a frown line.  Oh well, that could be blocked out with photo slight of hand.  You will never see a wrinkle in my selfies!  Ha!  I got THAT down pat.
  7. In airports,  people seem to think I am lost or confused.  “Do you need help?” they ask.  Hmmmmm.  It’s odd but I usually do.
  8. Magazine ads stop giving beauty hints when they get to the “Over ___” category
  9. Salespeople exclaim, “Oh, my grandmother bought one of those and she just LOVES it.”
  10. The AARP card has some real advantages – like free coffee – even if  I don’t even have to show the card.
  11. My grandgirls look the same age as I think I look until I look in the mirror.  I am considering hanging black shrouds over mirrors!

 Perhaps there is a vitamin to ward off the old hag image.  Only I know how many weird vitamin supplements are taking up space in my kitchen cabinet(s) and they are all secretly labeled “Hope dashed.  Store for later discard.”

Yes, hope is a many splendored thing, and I am still in favor of eating right, sleeping right, and exercising for energy and good looks.

I have been duly warned by the experts however, that with healthful living and of course, the most expensive beauty products, I will look 20 years younger and live long enough to enjoy 15 minutes more a day drooling in my soup.

 

 

Read Full Post »

Image is a card sent to Dor from dear friends. From www.leanintree.com

Image is a card sent to Dor from dear friends. From http://www.leanintree.com

Today was what we called in the old days – a “Lollapalooza!”

It started bright and early with a call to a Podiatrist in Lexington, Virginia.  I hope hope hoped he would see a new patient.

And if he worked me in I hope hope hoped he would be familar with my mysterious BME (Bone Marrow Edema) and be able to treat a swollen big foot.  There is supposed to be power in positive thinking but the concept was lost this morning.

“It’s only four days to Christmas”, I thought,  “The doctor’s office will be closed.  He will not take new patients.  He will not take a BME person.  He will simply not answer his phone.”

But I called anyway and got an appointment right away!  The doc was sooooo nice and he knows all about BME (said I had a bruised bone) and IF

 I wear a boot to immobilize things for 6 to 8 weeks

and if I am a good patient

it should heal nicely.

My blogging friend, Seattle Charlie, said exactly the same thing!  I should simply listen carefully to my fellow bloggers right?

Big Foot is Baaack!

Big Foot is Baaack!

So I left the office with a Big Foot again – bigger than ever because it’s one of those Cam-thing Boots with exposed toes!   Now why would the inventors of this monstrosity leave out toes? Don’t they know about winter?

Anyway, I had to practice driving in the parking lot because sadly, I am a two footed driver (braking with the left and gunning with the right).  The only explanation for this aberration is I learned to drive with a stick shift and when there were no power brakes.  It was really hard for a slip of a girl to stop a great big car, so I  braked with two feet in those days.  Big Foot Meets Little Foot

But to make a short story even longer, I got the hang of right foot driving today and left the doc’s parking lot  in time to meet my friend Joan for lunch.

But Joan was waiting for me OUTSIDE the restaurant because the restaurant was closed.

It was also raining.

Joan called her daughter, Sue, to take us to another restaurant.  We waited in the rain with our umbrellas open like two little old ladies lost in a storm!  And finally a car drove up.  “That’s my daughter,” said Joan.  “You get in that side Dor.”

I hobbled over to the car and was about to get in when the driver-woman said, “Were you really going to get in my car?”

“Ohhhhhh,” said Joan, “That’s not my daughter!”

And all three of us started laughing unconrollably.  

Wrong car.  

Wrong daughter.  

Back to waiting in the rain.

Eventually Joan’s real daughter did show up and there was a bit of an ordeal getting Big Foot into the back seat. More giggles.

Lunch was a grand reunion of two friends separated by time and space, but the day was not yet over.

Bill and I were invited to share laughter and goodies with old and new friends this evening.  Theirs is a great big happy family who love Christmas with all its trimmings and we traded stories in an atmosphere of hilarity so spontaneous I feel healed already.

I do believe in laughter as the best medicine but today seemed to have been designed just for me with the Big Foot, the exposed toes, lots and lots of fall-down-on the floor laughing with good friends, good people and hope for Big Foot to be gone in 2016.

May you, my wonderful blogging friends, have Lollapalooza days now through the holidays and way way way into the new year and beyond!

 

 

Read Full Post »

%d bloggers like this: