Trip to The E.R: The True Story!

I don’t think I have written a lot (or anything, who remembers?) about what has been going on with my back so here’s a quick summary of the past three months or so.  The pain is located right around my left sacroiliac joint, that joint right above your tush.  When it started I didn’t think much of it, another pain to add to the rest of my pains.  But it hung around and started to gain in intensity to the point where I was at a “10” on the pain scale at times, to the point where I was laughing and crying at the same time, and felt like I was going insane.  My Percocets weren’t helping, so what I had been doing was the pain was around an “8” or up I would sedate myself, knock myself out, so I could sleep through it.

During this time, Grant was begging me to go to the E.R., but I hate going there.  Mostly I find it to be a huge waste of my time, no help, no results, etc.  You can read more about my last E.R. visit here.  I literally have to be near death to go there I hate it so much!

My PCP had diagnosed me with inflammation of the sacral iliac joint, but you can’t really get a diagnosis by someone just poking at your body!  I wanted to consult with my Rheumatologist due to my feeling that it was a joint issue and he was a good second “go to” guy.  At my March appointment he wrote a prescription for X-rays. This past Monday was my April visit and he said the X-rays showed nothing, but we both agreed the X-rays don’t tell the whole story, or in my case, tell nothing.  He wrote a prescription for an MRI but that is something that requires pre-authorization from the insurance company so his office manager set about procuring the authorization.

On Thursday my back pain hit a different level.  The only time my back didn’t hurt was when I would wake up in the morning, but on Thursday, there it was.  I was at my limit.  Insane back pain with no break!  Grant and I discussed the E.R. and I was weakening.  On Friday morning I told him I was going to go.  I took a shower, got dressed, got some entertainment together; the book that I am currently reading for my book club, The Sound of a Wild Snail Eating, Parents magazine, my newspaper and my iPhone.  Then I called 9-1-1.  For the uninitiated, it is always best to go by ambulance, otherwise you are stuck in the waiting room for God knows how long.

Unfortunately, it was an extremely busy day at my hospital’s E.R.  I was triaged to the lowest ranking E.R. I did not even rate a bed, I got to sit in the most uncomfortable semi-reclining torture device known to man which made my back feel even worse.  The nurse came over and took my vitals and wrote them on a napkin.  Now, one of my followers on Twitter told me that she was in the healthcare industry for years and this is very common, but it wasn’t to me!  I’m thinking, Should I just walk out of here?  Is this the biggest mistake of my life?

If you are wondering if Grant came with me, the answer is no for a few reasons.  He had an appointment with his therapist, we didn’t know how long I would be and he wanted to be closer to home for Tyler, who was in school, and he also has Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, or PTSD.  In fact, his PTSD is from being in hospitals.  I was fine without him.  I had the above mentioned entertainment and my wonderful friends and family on Twitter and Face Book!  I want to thank everyone who was virtually there for me, you were wonderful support!

The Physician’s Assistant ordered a CAT scan and morphine for me, yay!  I am no drug seeker but as those who have chronic pain know, I needed a BREAK.  For the first time in months I didn’t want to feel that back pain.  I was also happy to be getting a CAT scan.  The nurse gave me the morphine shot in my left shoulder which hurt like hell, and, because I have Fibromyalgia, actually made my other shoulder hurt too.  I was waiting to feel loopy and…nothing.   No loopy.  No relief.  Nothing!

I got my CAT scan and told the nurse that the morphine did nothing for me and she told me they would give me something else.  Grant showed up,  the hospital was literally on the way home from his therapist’s.  We kissed and hugged, he held my hand but what else could he do for me?  By the way, the whole time I kept asking for something to drink, something to eat, anything, and I never got so much as a swig of  water!  This place was worse than prison.  Luckily I had brought coffee with me and had eaten a string cheese at 7:00 a.m.!

The nurse gave me a shot of Dilaudid and once again, I got no relief.  Grant said by now he would have been totally loopy but I could have operated heavy machinery for all it had done for me.  By this time, Grant was getting upset over my lack of care, I hadn’t even been seen by a doctor and I had already been there for THREE hours!  Plus, his PTSD was kicking in.  He told me he was sorry but he had to go and I understood.  He later told me that while walking back to his car he was crying so hard that someone stopped him to ask if he was okay.

I told the nurse that the shot of Dilaudid hadn’t helped.  At this point I found out that I was triaged so low that there was no doctor in my part of the E.R.  Can you believe it?  I never got to see a doctor, apparently I didn’t rate. How can there be no doctor in an E.R.??  I was glad that Grant had left because he would have gone ape shit if he knew that.  I got a second shot of the Dilaudid and still nothing. I walked over with my cane to tell the P.A. that I had gotten no relief and that I have given up the hope of getting relief.  She said, “Well, sometimes we can’t take all your pain away” and I said, “No, literally I have had no pain taken away.”

Finally I got the results of my CAT scan which I will put here in hopes of some advice from those who have “been there”.  I have not had the time to even research what some of it means.  “Mild posterior disk bulges from L3-4 to L4-5. There is a left conjoined nerve root vs. disk herniation at L5-S-1…MRI (recommended) for better characterization of degenerative disease.”  Like I said, I don’t know what it means but it sounds very scary.  I am scared.  The P.A. referred me to a spine specialist and told me that things might move faster with the insurance company now that I have a bit of a diagnosis, a CAT scan and a trip to the E.R.  So, as inhumane as my experience was, it was good for a few things.

She gave me a prescription for the Dilaudid and a prescription for Valium which I have yet to fill and after five hours I was released.  Grant thinks the Dilaudid may work when I am in the thousand times more comfortable environment of my home.

I am happy to have a diagnosis but I am also frightened as I realize that this is only the beginning with a new condition for me that I know very little about.

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You Can Find Mama…

…at Technorati today, talking about a proposal by a Michigan State Senator to allow foster parents to buy clothing for the children they care for ONLY at used clothing stores!

You can probably guess what my reaction was!  Maybe you feel differently.  I hope you will take a look and leave a comment if so moved!

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Tuesdays With Tyler: Easter Time!

Well this sick mama managed to live through another holiday and make her little boy a happy kid.  How many more years will he believe in the Easter Bunny, I wonder?  I figure he will hold onto Santa a little longer!

Tyler and I hard at work dyeing our Eggs.  For the first time ever, none of the 15 eggs I boiled cracked!  Until Tyler got hold of them!

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The fruits of our labors:

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With carrots and pictures paying tribute to the Easter Bunny when he comes, Tyler says, “Good night!”

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Tyler chows down on his chocolate bunny.  He also got some other candy and Mr. Freeze’s cave as part of his Batman set.

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I went back to bed for a while and by 9:45, Tyler had already thrown up the chocolate.  How much chocolate did Grant let him eat, I will always wonder?

Oh well, I guess it’s not Easter until someone throws up, right?  And by the end of the night, after having had my fair share of chocolate, I wished I could have thrown up!

Hope all who celebrated had a wonderful Easter!

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Review and Contest for the Delightful Book “29”

I read 29 as a member of the From Left to Write book club.  I was given a free copy as part of the book club. However, the opinions expressed in this review are my own.

In Adena Halpern’s 29, Ellie Jerome, on the occasion of her 75th birthday party, wonders where her life has gone. When she blows out her candles, she wishes she could be 29 again, and on the next day, she is.

This book was fascinating to me because Ellie grew up in a time where, if you even went to college it was to earn your “Mrs.” degree. She married for security, not for love, at the age of 19.  Getting a job was frowned upon, and why should she when her husband gave her everything she could ask for?  Clothes, jewelry, fabulous vacations. Ellie was expected to have children, keep a nice house, and have dinner on the table, all while making sure her hair and make-up were perfectly done to go along with her high heels and pearls for when her husband came home from his hard day at work.

Ellie knew that her husband cheated through a lot of their marriage.  She fantasized about taking her daughter and leaving him.  But back then she was told by her mother, “He works hard and he provides for you, subject closed.” And for many wives back then, as was the case for Ellie, the subject was closed.

As a woman of 41 years of age, the life that Ellie lived throughout her marriage is as foreign to me as living a life of a woman in present-day Iraq.  Ellie’s only daughter, Barbara, who is in her fifties, choose much the same life as her mother did.

But it is her granddaughter, 25-year-old Lucy, who finally breaks that mold.  Lucy is single and having fun and owns her own business and it is she who Ellie wants to be if she could do it all over again, or be in her 20s in the 21st century.

I found this book to bring up some interesting studies about women through the past and present decades, with many lessons to be learned.  I also found it to be fun and funny.  All of the characters, young and old, are delightful.

This book by no means is to be classified as “Chic Lit”.  You are definitely going to find it thought-provoking, but you are also going to have a lot of fun reading it.  It’s the perfect balance of both and is a nice light read.  I would definitely recommend it for anyone!

If you would like to read a more thoughtful post that was inspired by 29, you can do that here. Check out the comment by the author herself!  I have to admit, I love when authors read my posts about their books!

Would you like to win this book that has never been read in the bathroom? Entering is easy!

1.  Just leave a comment below.

2.  Tweet out this post and let me know, in a SECOND entry.

3.  Post this contest on your Facebook for a THIRD entry.

This gives you up to three chances to win!  If you tweet and facebook it, please let me know by entering again.  So if you decide to enter all three ways, make sure you have THREE separate entries.  The contest will end at 11:59 p.m. EST on Monday, May 2nd.  A winner will be chosen by random.org.  Good luck!

Congratulations going out to Nicole, winner of ’29”!  Nicole’s entry, #1, was chosen by random.org.  Thank you to all who entered and keep checking in as I will be given more books away and doing other contests!

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Food Stamp Recertification – Not Going to Make It

I had my Food Stamp recertification interview on April 4th.  As much information and hours of work it took to get everything together, it wasn’t good enough.  It figures, Social Services will pick apart anything in order to shut down your food stamps.  It seems they do not believe that we are living on the income we say we have, even though I kept saying to them, “Everything I can buy on a credit card I do, we are about $40 thousand in debt, we will be declaring bankruptcy in the next few months.”

They sent me home with a check list of what we needed to get back to them “as soon as possible”.  As in, as soon as my child with his hurt arm goes back to school after six days, as soon as I am not in pain, as soon as I feel able enough to be upright, as soon as the laundry is done, and as soon as the bills are paid.  Taxes?  Forget that.  We filed for an extension.  The house?  In a complete shambles, even more so than usual.  Grant and I have been working on it as much as we can.  Plus there are others we need to rely on to get things to us for the recertification.

This isn’t the first time we have had to battle for food stamps.  If you do a search for “food stamps” you will see lots more good times.

Here’s what they want from us, seriously:

Three months (January, February, March) worth of  income statements.  I made $250 during that time.  They don’t believe it, they want proof.

Three months worth of every checking and savings accounts we have and three months of what is now our now defunct IRA.  Every deposit must be “explained”, like if Tyler got a Valentine’s Day check as a gift, we have to tell them that.

Three months worth of every credit card statement that we have.  We have at least ten credit cards.  I had to run to Staples and buy another $50 worth of ink.

What we pay for rent on our apartment, and what we will pay come next month when our rent goes up

TWO letters from our doctor stating that we are disabled and why Tyler needs to be in daycare.  We have the same doctor, but one letter wasn’t good enough, they need two.

Another letter from my mother telling how much money she gives us each month.  The other one was not complete enough, apparently they needed her name, rank and serial number.

Hopefully all of that will count for the last thing needed.  Expenses Exceed Income Situation. (Please verify how you are meeting your living expenses (gifts, loans, unpaid bills, etc.)

I’m not exactly sure how we are meeting our living expenses.  God?

I have assembled about 75 pages of documentation for their review.  We are still waiting for the letters from our doctor.  I don’t know how long it will take the wheels of bureaucracy but I am pretty sure that come April 30th our food stamps will be shut down.

Sure, most likely we will be reinstated proactively, but in the meantime, how will we buy our food?  As I said, our credit cards are mostly all tapped out.  We depend on the money we get from Food Stamps each month.  I guess it is back to supplementation from the Food Bank and that God guy again.

Although my Food Stamp worker thought she sent me home with a check-list that she thought was simple, for two chronically ill people, nothing is ever simple or easy.  My every spare thought and action has been devoted to completing the documentation asked for and we are still not going to make it.

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Source:  Migrant Mother


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A Phone Call I Will Never Forget

Inspired by Mama Kat’s Writer’s Workshop.

workshop-button-13.) A phone call you won’t forget.

Warning:  Intense, emotional theme.

During the late 90s I was working in radio on the air doing the night shift.  My shift would end at midnight when “Chris” would take over until 5:30 a.m.  I never worried that Chris would not show up on time, he took his position very seriously, and respected that at midnight I was off the air.  I couldn’t leave if he didn’t come because at that time of the night only one person would be at the station, the on-air personality.

One night at around 11:15 the “hotline” rang.  That was never good.  It was the secret phone number the listeners didn’t have.  It could be the Program Director, General Manager, Engineer; you had to pick up that line.

What was up now?

“Hello?”,  I said.

“Emily, Emily…”

“Chris?”

“Yeah, it’s Chris.  I – I don’t think I will be able to come in tonight because…I think my father is dying.”

“What?  Where are you, in the hospital?”

“No, I’m home.  I’m with him and he’s lying on the floor.  He collapsed and I think he’s dying.”

“Okay, okay, don’t worry about it, I will call Terry (our program director) and let him know what’s going on.  It’s okay, Chris.”

“Em, Em, I – I…I think my father…I think he’s dead, Emily.  I think my father is dead.  He’s dead, yeah, he’s dead”

“Oh my God, oh my God, Chris!”

“So you see I can’t come in tonight, I’m sorry.”

I knew Chris was in shock, he couldn’t really grasp what he was saying to me or what was happening to him.  As for me, I was hearing the story of a man who died while I was having a phone conversation with his son.  I told Chris it was okay, how sorry I was and that he shouldn’t worry about the radio station.  I finally got him to hang up, as if hanging up the phone with me made it really final for him.

I don’t remember how much longer I stayed until our program director came to relieve me, maybe a couple of hours more.  It was like a dream, relating to him what had happened.

At Chris’s dad’s wake, Chris was in pretty good shape.  His girlfriend who would later be his wife was with him. The one thing I will always remember about the wake was Chris saying to me, “You know what I regret most, Em? That I never gave my dad any grandchildren.  My dad will never see my children.”

As was the case with Chris, I too have that same regret.  My dad did live to walk me down the aisle which I will be forever grateful for, but between me being sick and my dad dying less than a year after my wedding, a grandchild for him was not to be either.  I completely understand the significance of what Chris said to me that day.

And I will never forget the other side of that phone call where a life passed into death and peace.

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You Can Find Mama at…

Technorati today.  Calling Easter eggs “Spring Spheres”??  Political Correctness rears it’s ugly head once again!  I hope you will take a look and give me some comment lovin’.  I am really proud of this one!bunny19

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Tyler’s Lucky Break!

Today was the day we took Tyler to the pediatric orthopedic surgeon to see how Tyler’s elbow was healing from when he fell.  On Tuesday night at the E.R., we were told that Tyler’s elbow showed swelling and that in this type of injury 80% of children have a broken elbow.

We has some trouble on Saturday with Tyler’s splint cutting into his upper arm.  We took him to the pediatrician where she put antibiotic ointment on his wound and padded him up.  We had to change the dressing and medicate the area twice a day.

I was fearing the worst, the literature we were given at the hospital said that he could be in a cast for a few months!

Well, lo and behold, something has finally gone right for us!  The doctor today said after reviewing Tyler’s X-rays and making him move his arm all around that he does not have a broken elbow!  He is in that lucky 20%!  She cut off the nasty splint and just told us to keep a bandage on his wound.  She still wants him to wear the sling and no playground activities for the rest of the week.

I am so relieved.  He should be back to normal next week.  Never has a child gotten as many get well cards, gift cards and gifts for a non-broken elbow!

Tyler with the Easter Bunny at the Pediatrician!

Tyler with the Easter Bunny at the Pediatrician!

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A Meal in the Mail Ministry

I first learned about Cooking Up Faith from my friend, Monica, over at Paper Bridges who nominated my family to become a “featured family”, which shows families in many different situations who need help from others.  “Big Fat Mama”, developed her Meal in the Mail feature when she decided to use her blog to help others.  Meals in the Mail can take on the form of restaurant gift cards, American Express gift certificates, or, even if you are not in a position to do any of that, your prayers for the Featured Family.

I look at some of the other families in the side bars, their situations, and I wonder, should we be here too?  There is the story of  Aviana, who was hit by a car resulting in a severe traumatic brain injury; and Logan who has a highly malignant form of brain cancer.  Children, whose parents are dealing with one of the most horrific crises parents can deal with.  For us, the tables are turned, for it is Grant and I who are ill, and I am grateful that it IS us. When Tyler broke his elbow earlier this week and then fell in the hospital, I hurt with him, I cried with him, as if it was me who had hurt herself.  If I had the choice I would take any illness upon myself before I would let it befall my child, and so, I can imagine a bit about what these parents must be going through.

I have this fear, maybe it’s stupid, but I don’t want Tyler to know how bad things are for us.  I don’t want Tyler to know that we are down to our last few thousand dollars and that we will be filing for bankruptcy soon.  I don’t want him to know why our phone rings 15 to 20 times a day and we don’t answer it.  My mother used to tell me that all she heard growing up in 1940s-50s’ Brooklyn from my grandmother was, “We are poor.”  “You can’t have that because we are poor.”  It’s a part of who she is now, I am sure, and I am hoping things turn around for us before I ever have to tell those words to Tyler.

I guess it’s not a contest on “Cooking Up Faith” to see who has it “the worst”.  But I think what BFM is doing here is a wonderful thing and if my family gets nothing from this, I think this is a blog worth seeing and a woman worth being blessed for what she is doing.

The times I have come to BFM’s blog I have read things that have comforted me.  BFM composed a “Letter From God” that is interspersed with scripture.  If you have ever read my blog you will know that I am not one to quote from scripture or speak about my faith, although I do have one, but some of what she wrote, along with the biblical quotes really spoke and comforted me and so I will leave you with just a couple:

You are a mother now. Your life will never be the same. You will have fears and anxiety that you never knew you would have.Don’t worry“I am holding you by your right hand – I, the Lord your God – and I say to you, don’t be afraid; I am here to help you.” (Isaiah 41:13)

You will wonder about your child’s future.Don’t worry. “For I know the plans I have for you,” says the Lord. “They are plans for good and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.”

A Meal in the Mail

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Little Man Down!

Tuesday at around 11:00 we got a call from Tyler’s daycare, telling us that he was running in the playground and had fallen on his right arm, on the grass.  Tyler wanted ice and the staff was moving his arm and he seemed to be okay. No more calls so I stopped worrying.

When Grant brought Tyler home he told me that Tyler was complaining about his right arm. He was holding it funny, not using it and not letting us even near him.  Grant said that when he picked him up he was fine so he thought that Tyler was laying it on a little thick.

I remembered back to the time when I was seven years old and had broken my arm.  I did everything I could to tell my parents that I was “fine” and that it didn’t hurt any more.  I was scared to death of going to a hospital!  I kept saying to Grant that Tyler wasn’t faking.  He stupidly threw a stuffed animal at Tyler to see if he would catch it and instead it just hit him!  Idiot!  That’s Grant I’m talking about.

I called the pediatrician and he thought we should go to the E.R. to have it x-rayed.  We packed up Tyler’s beloved Eeyore, snacks, and books and headed out.  There is only one hospital in our area that takes Tyler’s Family Care (poor people) insurance, and it is supposed to have a good reputation.

Tyler was doing pretty well, he told the admitting nurse that they had been running a race but that “wasn’t such a good idea”, that he was a “special boy” and that he was “very funny”.  We told the nurse that Tyler has Tourette’s Syndrome, OCD and Anxiety but was otherwise healthy.  She examined Tyler’s arm and said the doctor would want to pinpoint the exact pain so they would have to not have to give him excess radiation.  Hmm, I must be a walking x-ray by now.

He got a bed pretty quickly.  The first thing that happened was a doctor came over to us and said, “Okay, let’s see, now your name is Rupert, you are six-years-old and you have something wrong with your stomach?”  Wrong kid! The doctor exited gracefully.  Maybe we should have left then?

The nurse gave Tyler some ibupropen which mostly came out of Tyler’s mouth and dribbled down his hospital gown and the bed.  After a while it was time to go to x-ray.  Now, I clearly had my cane, but the stupid nursing assistant, this beautiful, blonde, Nordic ice princess says, “Now Mama, you carry him to x-ray.”  I looked at Grant, “I can’t carry him!”, so Grant did.

Your would have thought we were taking Tyler to the electric chair, he screamed and wiggled so much, plus his arm was hurting.  Grants pants, perfect timing, started to fall down and some stranger says, “I got it buddy, I got it” and pulls his pants up for him.  We decided Tyler should walk.

So he’s walking, doing okay and he trips over…air…and falls, ON HIS ARM.  Tyler and I simultaneously start screaming and crying.  An orthopedic doctor saw the fall and said, “This child doesn’t go anywhere any more without a stretcher or wheelchair!”  The dumb-ass nurse’s aid says, “It wasn’t MY fault!”  I wanted to smack her. Tyler is almost in shock.  “I-I c-c-can’t s-stop crying”, he kept saying.

Grant at this point is livid.  He wants to see the patient advocate, he’s talking filing complaints and lawsuits.  How do you allow a little boy to be carried and then walk to the X-ray, when he is scared, medicated, tired and in pain?! Who just walks to the x-ray room anyway?!

Tyler and Grant finally get into x-ray, where now they have to take like 20 x-rays, to make sure he has not broken any other part of his arm after the fall.  So much for radiation caution.

It turned out that Tyler has a broken elbow.  They splinted it and put his arm in a sling.  We have to see an orthopedic surgeon in a few days for more x-rays, and then maybe a cast.  No school for Tyler for at least two days. As they are doing the splint, the dumb-ass nurse’s aid is ON HER KNEES apologizing to me, telling me that it is standard procedure for the mama to carry the child to x-ray.  A social worker was there too.  I said, “You know, I don’t think this is such a great procedure, PLUS I told you my son had Tourette’s Syndrome, OCD and Anxiety.  He didn’t need any more trauma!”

More profuse apologizing from doctor’s, janitors, the social worker, and all the crappy orange juice we could drink.  They fast tracked us out of there and we brought Tyler home, where he went to sleep about 1:30 this morning.

Grant and I were known as “accident-prone” kids.  Tyler, unfortunately has started earlier in the broken bone department than the both of us.

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