Dr. R got a new PA a couple of years ago, Carolyn. Every once in a while, she likes to tell me the story of how we first met.
It was 10pm on a Saturday night, and I called the answering service, because I was vomiting blood. For the record, it wasn't the first time it had happened, and it is just a symptom of the Bartonella. Anyway, the answering service connected me to Carolyn, who was on call for the first time of her career with Dr. R. And I was her first call.
Me: Hello?
Carolyn: Hello, this is Carolyn. What's going on?
Me: Well, listen, I don't want you to freak out, but I'm vomiting blood.
Carolyn: And you don't want me to freak out?
Me: Right. I'm just calling to let you know.
Carolyn: Are you going to the hospital?
Me: Absolutely not.
Carolyn: So, you're vomiting blood and you're not going to the hospital?
Me: That's right. The last time this happened, I went to the hospital, and they pumped my stomach. They didn't believe that I hadn't swallowed a bottle of pills, so they shoved a tube down my throat and pumped my stomach. I would rather die in this hotel room, than have my stomach pumped ever again. So, no. I'm not going.
Carolyn: I see. So, I'm not supposed to freak out, and you're definitely not going to the hospital, and you're just calling to let me know.
Me: See? We're going to get along fine! Are you freaking out?
Carolyn: A little.
Me: Don't worry. It'll be fine.
I like to call it "on the job training". The "on the job training" for me was the notion that I could fire my health care providers. I had always been under the impression that you did what the Doctors and Nurses told you to do, because they knew what they were doing. Having had a very close working relationship with nurses for the past 7 years, I have grown into a different understanding. When I have a PICC line in, I have a nurse come every week to change the dressing, and monitor my state of life (or unlife).
Here are some of the nurses that I've had:
Disney Land nurse - would sit on my couch and jabber on for hours about the wonder of Disney Land until I would fall asleep. Eventually, I would just pretend to be asleep to get her to leave.
"I've been conned" nurse - could have retired 2 years ago, except a con man made the moves on her, and took her for everything she was worth, so now she still has to work, and is ANGRY about it.
The Nose Picker - she would sit talking to me, and put her hand up over her face, and, with the other hand would pick her nose and then eat it...like a 6 year old.
The Bare Hander - I had to tell her EVERY TIME to put on gloves.
The Ripper - the insertion site on my arm is covered with a giant tegaderm. Picture a very large, very sticky piece of tape firmly stuck to my arm. She would walk in, and just rip off the tegaderm. And when I complained, she told me I was being a baby, until my arm was a raw, weepy mess.
The PICC puller - tried to change my dressing, and just kept pulling more and more of my PICC line out, until I finally yelled at her and got her to just stop. At which point she started crying.
The Converter - wouldn't change my dressing until she had tried for 5 minutes to convert me to Mormonism.
The Chicken - would say "oh god, oh my lord, oh dear", every time she tried to change my dressing. A clear way to instill confidence.
I now have a fabulous nurse (Terri) who knows that there are only 2 other nurses (Katie and Jolene) that I will allow to change my dressing. I have a firm rule against strangers touching me, because I'm tired of the shenanigans. And I'm tired of having to train nurses who come to change my dressing, because I can do it better myself with one hand, than they can with two. I mean seriously people, you can probably learn how to do this from youtube.
Admittedly, I have become difficult with my nurses, but really, it's out of necessity. It was the nose picker that made me draw the line. There's only so much a girl can take. Terri would tell you that there's only so much a nurse can take. She trains nurses at the hospital in PICC care, and her favorite story is about some girl who forgot she had a PICC line in, and went swimming in Quaddick lake. I have no idea to whom she is referring...
Nice writing !!! Love reading everything you write .
ReplyDeleteDear Alessandra;
ReplyDeleteI'm not going to gush at you; I don't think you need a bunch of maudlin sympathy. I do want you to know that I think your writing is a special kind of courage; you are laying your life out for strangers to see. The big deal here is that what you write may save someone else from the misery that you have had to live with for so many years. I hope one day that I'll be able to give voice to all the shit that happened after the first time I was diagnosed with breast cancer. If you're brave enough to talk about the humiliations that acute disease drops in your lap (and on your head, and under your feet...) then I need to pull out of my gut all the bs that goes with chemotherapy and radiation and weird medications that try to kill the cancer without actually killing you, at least not to all-the-way-dead. Bravo to you, and to your mum who talks to people she doesn't know, and to Andrea, who sounds like a star, and the very best kind of friend that anyone could possibly have. For what it's worth, you're in my thoughts and my prayers. If a red-headed woman with Bull Terriers comes up and says hello at a show one of these days, it's just me. Victoria Corse