Okay....things just get better and better. Shortly after my last post on Wednesday I'm sitting on the couch in the family room enjoying my Judge Judy marathon and a god awful storm starts rolling in...buckets of rain, banging thunder, lighting all over the place. And guess what...the house gets hit by lightning. There was a huge sound like an explosion, the house shakes like an earthquake hit, and the smoke detectors start going off. Both air conditioning units go out (we have two zones), the GFCI outlets trip, the garage door opener stops working, both phone lines die, and suddenly the sprinklers start going off in the backyard, even though that unit is just a battery operated thing hooked to two hoses. But we never lost power. Now, I used to be handy out of necessity because my ex was not handy at all, but since I've been married to Jim I haven't had to be. If something goes wrong I can just yell, "JIM!" and he takes care of it. Well, now I'm in the house by myself (Jimmy slept through the whole thing like a rock) and the handy brain synapses had to kick in and now I'm running around...checking for holes in the house, checking circuit breakers, checking that the refrigerators are still on, finding the reset button on the garage door opener, getting the GFCI's reset, etc. I was scared to death and thinking, of ALL days I have to be alone here it had to be today.
So the next morning I'm on the horn with the HVAC guy and Verizon. Luckily my HVAC units are covered under a service contract. As soon as the guy opens up the panel on the first unit he says, "I smell something burnt..." Yeah- no kidding. So the control board on that one was fried but he was able to bypass a bad relay and at least get the thing to turn on so I could have air downstairs. The only bad thing is now the blower will never shut off so I'd have to manually flip the disconnect switch if I want to kill it. The upstairs unit not only has a fried board, but the compressor is fried as well. So it's been 90 degrees here with high humidity and we can't get the upstairs unit fixed until next week when the compressor comes in. But it wasn't too bad because at least I have ceiling fans. Hell...I grew up with no air conditioning so I can always go get a box fan like we used to have when I was a kid. Verizon came and said that the fuses on the outside of the house had fried so he replaced those and I had phone again. The garage door opener guy is coming Monday.
Right in the middle of this I get a call from Jim that he's being released. I told him he's going to have to sit his ass in the lobby because I can't leave the house to come and fetch him yet. Luckily, his parents came a few hours later and his Dad and I headed into Philly and picked him up.
He's feeling much better today and will go back into the office on Monday. Unless some other catastrophe happens. Now we've got to wait until he's done with his 11 days of flagyl and try to get all his procedures rescheduled. No one will do surgery on him if he's got infection in his body.
Friday, June 29, 2007
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
Wednesday June 27, 2007 9:01 PM
JIM HELD HOSTAGE, DAY THREE. Yup...he's still in the hospital. The bad thing about this stint is that the visiting hours at Jefferson are much more restrictive than they were at Lahey, plus I have to take the train into Philly, so I can never be there when the doctors are making rounds, and I have to rely on what Jim tells me about what's going on. Today Jim tells me that they're not SURE if he has C-diff yet...they're growing the culture in a petri dish somewhere, but they're treating him as if he has it anyway. And today he had a sigmoidoscopy. Mmmm mmmm. Those are fun. I'm sure several of you readers out there have had one of those, especially if you're over 40. It's like the poor-man's colonoscopy. That's when they pump air up your butt and check the lower part of your colon. I think it's so stupid, though, because that test only checks one third of your colon, not the whole thing like a colonoscopy would. But who am I....I'm just the wife.
They've been giving Jim regular meals and he's been as creative as he can trying to get them down. Last night he cut the roast beef into tiny pieces and then covered them in mashed potatoes so they would slide down and not get stuck. But today they "forgot" to bring him dinner so they scrounged up some jello for him. They want to see how his colon reacts with food in his system. According to him, the flagyl is making him feel a lot better and there's a possibility he may get out tomorrow. The only positive thing is that I can watch whatever tv shows I want....no Roswell shows...no Military channel...no "out-there" theories of the universe....no numerology and the Bible. I've got my DVR and I'm going to have a Judge Judy marathon tonight.
Jimmy's worried. He told me tonight that he's scared Daddy will be in the hospital a long time. He also got in trouble at camp today. Now get this....while I'm in Jim's hospital room I get a call from some idiot at camp who asks me if we've taught Jimmy that he should keep his hands to himself. I SOOOOO wanted to tell her, "No...we told him he should go up into a bell tower with an automatic rifle and start picking people off...." What kind of an asinine question is THAT to ask a parent? But I have to restrain myself because I'll only make things harder for Jimmy if I open my mouth. Turns out that Jimmy made a magic wand in Harry Potter group today and some kid on the bus was trying to take it from him, so Jimmy whacked the kid with it. Now, I know Jimmy shouldn't have whacked the kid with it....o.k.....but what happens when you take a bone away from a dog? Yup...you get your hand bit. But I put the fear of God into Jimmy tonight and told him if that happens again just tell the counselor....don't try to take matters into your own hands...or you're going to get thrown out of camp.
They've been giving Jim regular meals and he's been as creative as he can trying to get them down. Last night he cut the roast beef into tiny pieces and then covered them in mashed potatoes so they would slide down and not get stuck. But today they "forgot" to bring him dinner so they scrounged up some jello for him. They want to see how his colon reacts with food in his system. According to him, the flagyl is making him feel a lot better and there's a possibility he may get out tomorrow. The only positive thing is that I can watch whatever tv shows I want....no Roswell shows...no Military channel...no "out-there" theories of the universe....no numerology and the Bible. I've got my DVR and I'm going to have a Judge Judy marathon tonight.
Jimmy's worried. He told me tonight that he's scared Daddy will be in the hospital a long time. He also got in trouble at camp today. Now get this....while I'm in Jim's hospital room I get a call from some idiot at camp who asks me if we've taught Jimmy that he should keep his hands to himself. I SOOOOO wanted to tell her, "No...we told him he should go up into a bell tower with an automatic rifle and start picking people off...." What kind of an asinine question is THAT to ask a parent? But I have to restrain myself because I'll only make things harder for Jimmy if I open my mouth. Turns out that Jimmy made a magic wand in Harry Potter group today and some kid on the bus was trying to take it from him, so Jimmy whacked the kid with it. Now, I know Jimmy shouldn't have whacked the kid with it....o.k.....but what happens when you take a bone away from a dog? Yup...you get your hand bit. But I put the fear of God into Jimmy tonight and told him if that happens again just tell the counselor....don't try to take matters into your own hands...or you're going to get thrown out of camp.
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Tuesday June 26, 2007 9:41 PM
Guess what? Jim's in the hospital AGAIN.
We went to Texas last week for my cousin's wedding. This is my father's sister's son. I'm really glad I went now because I found out when I was there that my aunt has cancer again and has opted not to do chemo. Apparently last time she did chemo she suffered two strokes, and she doesn't want to go through that again, so this will probably be the last time I see her. Jim felt lousy before we left. I kept telling him that he didn't have to go....I would go with Jimmy and we would be fine, but he kept saying he had to "protect" me. Protect me from what I don't know. Turns out the whole time we're there I can see he doesn't feel well and I'm constantly asking him, "Are you o.k.? Are you o.k.?" Well, whatever. He went and was miserable. He's still running to the bathroom constantly and I can't get him in to the gastroenterologist until 7/2.
Sunday night when we got back he spiked a fever of 102. That was the last straw for me. I called the gastroenterologist Monday morning BEGGING her to take him early but no go. She just suggested I take him to the emergency room, so I took him to the ER at Thomas Jefferson University Hospital in Philly. I decided to go there instead of Kennedy in Washington Township because all of his specialists are out of Jefferson. It just made more sense. So now instead of taking the train I had to drive him, which I hate, because driving in Center City is a bitch. But I did it. So we were there for TWELVE hours. Yeah...TWELVE hours. Luckily I got my in-laws to get Jimmy off the bus from camp and put him to bed and stay overnight.
So while we were on our way I warned Jim about gastrointestinal problems and doctors. I suffered for years with the symptoms Jim had and went through close to a dozen gastronenterologists. All I got from them was a shrug of the shoulders and "take fiber pills." Now come on.....what would you think would happen if someone running to the bathroom 20 times a day takes fiber? DUH. I finally had found someone who treated me for inflammatory bowel disease with a drug called Azulfidine. I took that for a couple of years and my problem finally went into remission and I didn't need the drug anymore. Then a few years later I ate one of my ex-sister-in-law's tainted meatballs at Christmas and while my ex and I both got food poisoining, he got over it in a day or so and I stayed sick for another two years. This time azulfidine didn't really help, so I went to MORE gastroenterologists, plus emergency rooms, etc., and finally when I was ready to off myself because I couldn't take it anymore I found a doctor who gave me Cipro. I took that all the way up until I was pregnant with Jimmy, then tried Asacol for while, which was o.k. Now I'm much better and just take Cipro occasionally if I have a flare-up.
Now, I really was hoping that Jim wouldn't have to go through the years of hell that I did. So we're sitting there with the doctor and I'm telling her about the progression of what Jim's gone through and what we've tried and she says to me, "Are you a doctor?" and I said, "No, but the lower G.I. tract is my specialty" and she says, "Well, you really should be a doctor" (Ha! Not with THOSE malpractice insurance rates! I've been trying to talk Jimmy into being a plumber!) But then she didn't want to do much for Jim but have him wait for his appointment on Monday, and then I'm insisting "NO...THIS CANNOT GO ON ANYMORE! THIS CANNOT GO ON ANYMORE!" and she finally agrees to order bloodwork, and not that I want Jim to be sick, but I'm PRAYING that his white blood cell count will be high because maybe then she'll do a scan of his abdomen. Well, his white blood cell count was high, she orders the CAT scan and whallah! They find inflammation in his colon. Gee- there's a big surprise. At 11:00 pm they decide they're going to admit him.
No here's what really got my dander up. Okay...I'm glad he got admitted and they'll get to the bottom of what his problem is, but JEEZUS CHRIST....all I got for years was "take fiber" and not a single shred of respect for my problem. THIS guy goes into the emergency room ONCE for this problem and BOOM- gets admitted. What's THAT bullshit all about? I mean, I don't begrudge the guy for getting help right away, but you know what the difference is? Now, only the women will understand this because there's definitely discrimination in the way women's complaints are handled by doctors and the way men's complaints are handled by doctors. JIM IS A GUY AND I'M NOT. That's what it boils down to folks. There has been research done on why women are catching up to men in death by heart attack and one of the reasons is that if a woman complains of pain, she has "anxiety". If a man complains of pain they assume he may be having a heart attack and work their way backwards.
But anyway....enough of my soap box. It's water under the bridge now. So it turns out he's still got a little touch of pneumonia, which is not a shocker because he had a raging case a couple of months ago, and the problem with his colon is called "C-diff" which is an organism picked up in hospitals. So the theory is that this is probably another souvenir from Lahey Clinic. So they started him on Flagyl (which is an anti-biotic...I've had that one before, too). I'm not sure when he's getting out, and he doesn't have acess to e-mail. Man....did I get the heeby-jeebies walking through that hospital corridor looking for his room today. Flashback....flashback...flashback. Dr. Kaulback stopped in to see him and said, "What the hell are YOU doing here?" and when I got there I said, "ENOUGH of this hospital shit, do you understand?" But you know what this means now, right? His tests for his throat have to be pushed back, his teeth have to be pushed back, his therapy has to be pushed back, and his throat stretching so he can eat has to be pushed back. I am so DONE. Last night while I was hanging in Center City I kept taking a walk to see if I could find a bar. Apparently I was walking in the wrong direction. I guess that's a good thing.
We went to Texas last week for my cousin's wedding. This is my father's sister's son. I'm really glad I went now because I found out when I was there that my aunt has cancer again and has opted not to do chemo. Apparently last time she did chemo she suffered two strokes, and she doesn't want to go through that again, so this will probably be the last time I see her. Jim felt lousy before we left. I kept telling him that he didn't have to go....I would go with Jimmy and we would be fine, but he kept saying he had to "protect" me. Protect me from what I don't know. Turns out the whole time we're there I can see he doesn't feel well and I'm constantly asking him, "Are you o.k.? Are you o.k.?" Well, whatever. He went and was miserable. He's still running to the bathroom constantly and I can't get him in to the gastroenterologist until 7/2.
Sunday night when we got back he spiked a fever of 102. That was the last straw for me. I called the gastroenterologist Monday morning BEGGING her to take him early but no go. She just suggested I take him to the emergency room, so I took him to the ER at Thomas Jefferson University Hospital in Philly. I decided to go there instead of Kennedy in Washington Township because all of his specialists are out of Jefferson. It just made more sense. So now instead of taking the train I had to drive him, which I hate, because driving in Center City is a bitch. But I did it. So we were there for TWELVE hours. Yeah...TWELVE hours. Luckily I got my in-laws to get Jimmy off the bus from camp and put him to bed and stay overnight.
So while we were on our way I warned Jim about gastrointestinal problems and doctors. I suffered for years with the symptoms Jim had and went through close to a dozen gastronenterologists. All I got from them was a shrug of the shoulders and "take fiber pills." Now come on.....what would you think would happen if someone running to the bathroom 20 times a day takes fiber? DUH. I finally had found someone who treated me for inflammatory bowel disease with a drug called Azulfidine. I took that for a couple of years and my problem finally went into remission and I didn't need the drug anymore. Then a few years later I ate one of my ex-sister-in-law's tainted meatballs at Christmas and while my ex and I both got food poisoining, he got over it in a day or so and I stayed sick for another two years. This time azulfidine didn't really help, so I went to MORE gastroenterologists, plus emergency rooms, etc., and finally when I was ready to off myself because I couldn't take it anymore I found a doctor who gave me Cipro. I took that all the way up until I was pregnant with Jimmy, then tried Asacol for while, which was o.k. Now I'm much better and just take Cipro occasionally if I have a flare-up.
Now, I really was hoping that Jim wouldn't have to go through the years of hell that I did. So we're sitting there with the doctor and I'm telling her about the progression of what Jim's gone through and what we've tried and she says to me, "Are you a doctor?" and I said, "No, but the lower G.I. tract is my specialty" and she says, "Well, you really should be a doctor" (Ha! Not with THOSE malpractice insurance rates! I've been trying to talk Jimmy into being a plumber!) But then she didn't want to do much for Jim but have him wait for his appointment on Monday, and then I'm insisting "NO...THIS CANNOT GO ON ANYMORE! THIS CANNOT GO ON ANYMORE!" and she finally agrees to order bloodwork, and not that I want Jim to be sick, but I'm PRAYING that his white blood cell count will be high because maybe then she'll do a scan of his abdomen. Well, his white blood cell count was high, she orders the CAT scan and whallah! They find inflammation in his colon. Gee- there's a big surprise. At 11:00 pm they decide they're going to admit him.
No here's what really got my dander up. Okay...I'm glad he got admitted and they'll get to the bottom of what his problem is, but JEEZUS CHRIST....all I got for years was "take fiber" and not a single shred of respect for my problem. THIS guy goes into the emergency room ONCE for this problem and BOOM- gets admitted. What's THAT bullshit all about? I mean, I don't begrudge the guy for getting help right away, but you know what the difference is? Now, only the women will understand this because there's definitely discrimination in the way women's complaints are handled by doctors and the way men's complaints are handled by doctors. JIM IS A GUY AND I'M NOT. That's what it boils down to folks. There has been research done on why women are catching up to men in death by heart attack and one of the reasons is that if a woman complains of pain, she has "anxiety". If a man complains of pain they assume he may be having a heart attack and work their way backwards.
But anyway....enough of my soap box. It's water under the bridge now. So it turns out he's still got a little touch of pneumonia, which is not a shocker because he had a raging case a couple of months ago, and the problem with his colon is called "C-diff" which is an organism picked up in hospitals. So the theory is that this is probably another souvenir from Lahey Clinic. So they started him on Flagyl (which is an anti-biotic...I've had that one before, too). I'm not sure when he's getting out, and he doesn't have acess to e-mail. Man....did I get the heeby-jeebies walking through that hospital corridor looking for his room today. Flashback....flashback...flashback. Dr. Kaulback stopped in to see him and said, "What the hell are YOU doing here?" and when I got there I said, "ENOUGH of this hospital shit, do you understand?" But you know what this means now, right? His tests for his throat have to be pushed back, his teeth have to be pushed back, his therapy has to be pushed back, and his throat stretching so he can eat has to be pushed back. I am so DONE. Last night while I was hanging in Center City I kept taking a walk to see if I could find a bar. Apparently I was walking in the wrong direction. I guess that's a good thing.
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