There’s Good Days, Bad Days and Then There's Mondays

Remember how I said Renee does something everyday that bears reporting, well she really did it today. I apologize for not having pictures for you folks. I’m going to have to start carrying a camera at all times.

It started as the typical Monday, Renee hit the snooze one too many times but otherwise we all got out the door on time. Cassidy had a cold last week but it seemed to clear up over the weekend. She got up with a little cough so Renee gave her a little shot of suppressant before driving her to school.

Renee was planning on going to the allergist to get her shots. She hasn’t had them since November. It’s not a big deal for her in the winter but if she doesn’t build up the immunities before the trees bud in the spring she’ll be miserable.

Renee called me a little before 11:00, she just got a call from school, Cassidy has a fever of 101 and a stomach ache. Renee’s going to pick her up as soon as she finishes up at the allergist. She had already received her dose and was in the waiting room doing the mandatory 30 minute linger before leaving. Renee got impatient and left after 20 minutes. She hopped in the car and headed out. Not even a block away and her hands started tingling, then her chest started tightening, she took a quick right and snaked her way through the Brownsboro Crossing shopping district back to the allergist.

Renee called me at 11:20 and asked if I could pick up Cassidy since she had a reaction to the allergy shots and she couldn’t leave. It was close to lunch so I headed right out. I had to head home first and switch cars. I work for my uncle and he won’t let me use the work car for activities unrelated to his business. Traffic was light so I had Cassidy back at home a little past noon. Renee called me on the cell phone while we were en route and said the reaction was bad. She mumbled something about almost needing an ambulance as I hit the curves on Brownsboro Road and that they were keeping her for a couple of hours. She was in good spirits and concerned about Cassidy giving me instructions on treating the feverish child with Tylenol.

After I got Cassidy settled, I was headed for the door back to work when Renee called again and asked if I could bring her her glasses. She had to remove her contacts due to the reaction. Oh, and could I stop at the pharmacy across the parking lot and pick up a prescription the doctor just called in.

I pick up the prescription and hit the allergist office, thunk. The door’s closed. It’s lunch time and they’re closed for an hour. I had to call inside to get let in. I was then led in to the back where the patient rooms are. And what to my wondering eyes did appear twas our girl Renee with cauliflower ear, and cauliflower nose, and cauliflower cheeks, and cauliflower forehead and cauliflower eye lids. She was also sporting an oxygen tube. It was quite a site. The first thing I said is that we need a picture of this. But her camera phone was full, aargh!

Renee and the nurse told me that she looks so much better than she did before. When Renee arrived back and told them she was having a reaction, the nurse immedialtely brought her back to an examining room. There were no physical signs other than some face reddening at the moment but the nurse phoned the doctor, none on the premises of course, and turned to prepare an epi-pen shot. She turned back to Renee and a shock infused inhale “Ohsh….!” was all that came out. There’s a sound you never want to hear from your nurse. The doctor heard her and asked what’s wrong. She said Renee’s eyes were swollen.

Swollen? Did she say swollen? Renee’s eyes had grown to the size of plums was how it was described to me. Yes, the eyeballs themselves were sticking out of her now puffed face like a cartoon character who’s just been whacked in the back of the head. That quickly, wham, and her face exploded to beyond the picture of punishment of a losing prizefighter.

Renee was having what they call a systemic reaction. This is the mother of reactions. This is the don’t leave her alone for a minute reaction. This is a how could there be only one nurse on duty and a phone-it-in doctor reaction? This is a why the heck didn’t they call 911 reaction?

Two epi-shots, one shot of some other anti-reactive, another medication for the breathing and the oxygen tube cranked to eight (Don’t light a match!) and Renee stabilized. They were this close to calling for an ambulance. They had to call in a second nurse from another facility just to monitor Renee.

I made sure Renee was “fine” and left her with the nurse. I made it back to work within lunch hour parameters and Renee drove herself home at about 3:00 clutching her brand new epi-pen, that I retrieved from the pharmacy, the whole way home. Cassidy was sort of resting in front of the TV while gripping a bucket.

The girls are at it again!

So that’s our Monday, how was yours?

Unsupervised Release

Yesterday, Renee visited her place of employment from which she is enjoying a mandatory medical sabbatical. They call the place a pre-school. Don’t tell the employees but it’s really a reverse day care center where I and other husbands place our wives in the hands of children just to keep them out of the malls.

Renee conveyed that some of her associates lodged a complaint about this blog. It seems some regular followers are disappointed about the recent slow down in content. Many apologies, I will try to correct this as Renee does usually do something worthy of reporting almost daily. Sometimes it has to do with her medical condition too.

Thursday was the last visit of the home health care nurse. Renee has been released from her care. She’s been fully trained on bag changing techniques and has successfully performed the changeover several times without assistance. She’s on her own.

It seems like forever since Renee’s been to see a doctor. A whole week will do that to you. She’s back driving and has resumed carpool duties. Everyone is remarking about how good she looks and sounds. She really has no idea how sick she was.

As for me, I’m back to full steam at work. My blogging has taken a hit but better that than the paycheck. Living gets in the way of talking about life. It’s a curious affair.

We had contact with the Cleveland Clinic on Thursday. On the same day Renee was released from nurse supervision, the surgeon scheduled the next round of surgery. June 24th is the day. It’s a Wednesday. Same deal as in December, pre-op on Tuesday, check in and surgery on Wednesday. Hopefully, we’ll remember to check the no complications box on the admittance form this visit.

That’s it for now. If you run out of things to read here, check out my homebrew blog. Three novice brewzos attempt to manufacture potable adult beverages using grain, water, hops, yeast, and a few dog hairs. The link to the Bier Werkes is on the right. Slainté!

Knit One, Pearl Woohoowhoo!

I have been waiting for a week for Renee to do something worthy of reporting here. She’s just not helping. She continues to recover slowly from the usual pains and soreness following surgery but beyond that, nothing. No unscheduled trips to the doctor, no bad news from test results, its almost like she's trying to get better. Where's the intrigue in that?

Renee has taken up knitting. She’s clicking away in front of the Food Network wishing she could eat what they’re preparing. She’s also getting hooked on Man vs. Food on the Travel Channel, knitting and pearling to the gluttony. I’m not sure if I should request Renee’s nutritionist ban these shows from her diet or just let her munch vicariously on the digital feed. I was thinking about upgrading to HiDef but the increase in pixels may upset Renee’s digestive tract. We don’t want her to over do it.

Renee’s first endeavor with the needles and yarn is a square washcloth. Our neighborhood stitchmaster, who’s teaching her, sells them for $4.00 a pop. Renee must have missed a stitch or two because it is now a triangle. She hasn’t succeeded in making what she planned so the teacher says it won’t sell.

I think she’s wrong. You see, what Renee has succeeded in knitting is a women’s thong. Yes, that’s the first thing that comes to mind whenever she shows it to anyone. And women love to buy underwear, I think more than shoes. Plus, the temperature dropped below zero this morning … so ladies, wool undies is the way to go. Victoria’s Secret has their Spring line out, (I know, I’ve commandeered control of the current catalog. It’s for market research purposes only.) so, you can only get these at the Brownsboro Farm Boutique. Don’t wait, we’ve got winter clearance pricing, for a short time only.

Stepping Out

Is it a good sign when a doctor is scared to enter the examining room?

Renee ventured out on her own yesterday. She had an appointment for more blood work at the family practitioner’s office. After taking off most of December from work, I had to get back at it. Renee was left to fend for herself, this meant driving. Uh oh! We all know what happened with the motorized shopping carts. (See previous post)

I had the wagon since I was on carpool duty that morning, so Renee was left with Old Paint. That’s my little red 1990 Toyota short-bed. It’s seldom Renee’s pick for transportation. With its cloth seats, crank windows and lack of air conditioning, it’s a far cry from the leather clad Volvo. It’s not up to the royal standards of our queen, but with the driving display she put on the other day it was better that Renee was in the trusty old truck.

And everyone loves Old Paint. That is almost everyone, Renee. The neighborhood kids love to play on her and the neighbors love borrow her. It’s a local landmark perched at the edge of the driveway. Renee doesn’t hate her, she just doesn’t love her like the rest of us, jealous maybe?

A legend such as this deserves a song. Here’s an excerpt from ‘Old Paint (Seeing this Country)’ by Bob Masterson
Old Paint is my ride
A little pick-up with pride
She ain’t flashy but she’s sure got some class
And she’s never been cruel
To this hard driving fool
And only once has she run out of gas.

Renee made it to the doctor’s office without incident. The doctor quickly peeked in to the examining room and slowly opened the door. She said she always gets a little frightened when Renee shows up because it usually results in some major medical convention being convened to figure out what’s going on. This day though there was no drama, Renee had a good check-up – APPLAUSE signs lights up.

The doctor was really happy that Renee is no longer gray. Apparently this is not a good color for a human complexion. Too bad, we were working on a contract with Cover Girl for a whole line of Renee Gray. Dang! Another Ralph and Norton get rich scheme goes down the tubes. Homina, homina, homina….

So for a change, we got good news from a doctor. Just for kicks the doc took Renee off of a couple of prescriptions. If this keeps up we may get our kitchen counter back. As a bonus, Renee’s incision has finally closed up. No more ooze letting loose.

Forget 2008, and be not afraid, we’ve got a whole new year to work with.

Happy belated New Year!

Following a pretty harrowing December we’re trying to settle back in to normalcy for January. Renee is starting to move about with only the routine (thank you) post-op effects and she is slowly re-introducing food into her diet. We’re now about where we thought we would be three weeks ago. Just like the weather post-op recovery knows no calendar.

Cassidy asked for a motorized scooter for Christmas. She didn’t get it so she must be really jealous. Renee is now scooting around the local markets in electric shopping carts. The cupboards were bare and she’s going stir crazy so we took her out shopping. She’s not up to walking the entire way so its, zing-ing-ing-ing-ing. You do get plenty of raised eyebrows but you also get extra friendly service at the deli counter. That’s great but could you please slice it the way I asked you to? Friendly service doesn’t necessarily equate to good service.

At Target, I think we needed to go back to the old leaf sticker on the bracelet, this time prone to bumping. Renee was keeping the staff busy putting the racks back where they belong after she tried to run through them rather than around. She escorted Cassidy to the back to try something on and then headed back up front to get a different size. Then here comes Renee buzzing back toward the dressing rooms with a rolling rack of teen-sized under-garments unknowingly hooked to the back of her cart. “Uh, excuse me, Mam, there is a limit of five items.”

On Friday, we were only two days into 2009 and I was already ticked off, at doctors that is. While Renee was in Baptist East Hospital we kept asking the doctors if they were relaying the info to the Cleveland Clinic surgeon. He may want to know if his patient is having complications related to the surgery he performed. We gave each one of the doctors the surgeon’s contact info. They assured us that the information was being forwarded. Were they lying?

The surgeon in Cleveland knew nothing about Renee’s abscess. He did not know she was admitted to the hospital here, nothing, zero communication. This is the absolute number one problem with medicine today. The doctors are all in their own little specialist worlds.

They probably weren’t lying. They were probably planning on sending the info forward at some point in time. It wasn’t a priority for them or their staff. But you’d think that maybe they would bump this up on the priority list since Cleveland may have a pretty nasty bug jumping around from patient to patient that doesn’t rear its ugly head until the patient is discharged.

I emailed the surgeon’s assistant on New Year’s Day. I got an out-of-office automatic reply so I didn’t expect much of a response for a while. At a little past 8:00AM on January 2, the surgeon called Renee. Not his assistant, not an email back, the surgeon himself called at the opening of the next business day. This little detail is a fine example of the difference in service between the local hospitals and the Cleveland Clinic. They listen to the patient and respond in a timely fashion, at least so far that has been our experience.

Renee updated him on all that has been happening. He told her to cancel the January 9 post-op appointment. There’s no need to do a 700 mile roundtrip with all the close scrutiny Renee’s been under. And, despite what her gastroenterologist said about delaying the next stage, to contact the appointment desk and schedule the J-pouch construction surgery for June. The surgeon feels confidant that Renee will be ready for phase two.

Now we need to be sure that Renee’s confidence is at the same level.