It seems that all I do lately is complain about the way I feel.  I just can't get back to some sort of tolerable existence.  This is also affecting my mood.  I am snippy and short with people.  I am in so much pain I don't know what do to or how to deal with it.

A mouse looked through the crack in the wall to see the farmer and his wife open a package.   What food might this contain?  The mouse wondered. He was devastated to discover it was a mouse trap.

Retreating to the farmyard, the mouse proclaimed the warning: There is a mouse trap in the house! There is a mouse trap in the house!"

The chicken clucked and scratched, raised her head and said, "Mr. Mouse, I can tell this is a grave concern to you, but it is of no consequence to me.   I cannot be bothered by it."

The mouse turned to the pig and told him, "There is a mouse trap in the house! There is a mouse trap in the house!"  The pig sympathized, but  said, I am so very sorry, Mr. Mouse, but there is nothing I can do about it but pray. Be assured you are in my prayers." 
   
The mouse turned to the cow and said "There is a mousetrap in the house! There is a mousetrap in the house!"  The cow said, "Wow, Mr. Mouse. I'm sorry for you, but it's no skin off my nose."

So, the mouse returned to the house, head down and dejected, to face the farmer's mouse trap alone.

That very night a sound was heard throughout the house -- like the sound  of a mouse trap catching its prey.

The farmer's wife rushed to see what was caught. In the darkness, she did not see it was a venomous snake whose tail the trap had caught.  The snake bit the farmer's wife. The farmer rushed her to the hospital, and she returned home with a fever.  

Everyone knows you treat a fever with fresh chicken soup, so the farmer took his hatchet to the farmyard for the soup's main ingredient.

But his wife's sickness continued, so friends and neighbors came to sit with her around the clock.  

To feed them, the farmer butchered the pig.

The farmer's wife did not getwell; she died.

So many people came for her funeral, the farmer had the cow slaughtered to provide enough meat for all of them.

The mouse looked upon it all from his crack in the wall with great sadness.

So, the next time you hear someone is facing a problem and think it doesn't concern you, remember -- when one of us is threatened, we are all at risk.

We are all involved in this journey called life. We must keep an eye out for one another and make an extra effort to encourage one another.

Remember that each of us is a vital thread in another person' s tapestry.  Our lives are woven together for a reason.

One of the best things to hold onto in this world is a Friend.

Okay, try this.

http://kevan.org/johari?name=thebaabee

TIRED

I'm tired today.

Physically tired

Emotionally tired.

Tired of this illness that has caused so many changes in my life.

Tired to others telling me that everyone gets tired.

Tired of not being able to be the me I was before I got sick

 

FRANKENSTEIN

 

This is an interesting tag going around blogs recently. 

 

I want to see what you guys are reading!! 

 

Go ahead and try this!! 

 

Here are the instructions...

 

1) Grab the nearest  book.

2)   Open to page 123.

3)   Find the fifth sentence.

4)    Post the text of the next four sentences along with these instructions.

5)    Don't you dare dig for that "cool" or "intellectual" book in the back  of your closet!  I know that is what you are thinking!

6)    Tag four or five people.

 

 

 

Frankenstein by Mary Shelley

 

“My days were spent in close attention, that I might more speedily master the language; and I may boast that I improved more rapidly than the Arabian, who understood very little, and conversed in broken accents, whilst I comprehended and could imitate almost every word spoken.

 

“While I improved in speech, I also learned the science of letters, as it was taught to the stranger; and this opened before me a wide field for wonder and delight.

 

“The book from which Felix instructed Safie was Volney’s Ruins of Empires.  I should not have understood the purport of this book had not Felix, in reading it, given very minute explanations.

 

Now who to tag......

Nah, just do it everyone.

 

Hugs, Lu

Good morning my friends.  I hope this entry finds you all feeling well.

I'm muddling through my life lately.  Most of the time not knowing which way is up or which way is down.

Lupus has been playing havoc with my body.  Mostly my brain.  I was in the hospital last week for a few days because I have been experiencing dizzy spells.

This hospitalization started out pretty funny because I got sick when I was right outside of the hospital on my way to visit the pain management doctor.  I had parked my car in the lot and attempted to walk up the hill to the hospital.  I couldn't make it and started to become dizzy.  I managed to get to about 100 feet from the door when I lost my breath and started to feel faint.  I sat down thinking that I could rest a bit and then go on.  I couldn't.  I called 911.  This is the funny part.

911 Operator:  What is your emergency?

Me:  I need help.

911:  What is wrong?

Me:  I am very dizzy and cannot breathe (I was gasping)

911:  Where are you?

Me:  About 100 feet from the entrance of SVMC SI.

911:  What street are you on?

Me:  (Gasping and crying at this point)  I'm on Bard.

911:  What are the cross streets?

Me:  I have no clue

911:  Look at the street signs.

Me:   I'm sitting about 100 feet from the hospital.

911:  Can you get someone to help you?

Me:  That is why I am calling you.

911:  What is the cross street?

Me:  Click, I hung up

By this point the security guard had spotted me and brought over a wheel chair for me.  He brought me to the ER.

I was seen right away.  They have this triage thing that they do.  One moment and you will be taken in.  Okay.  My head is spinning and beginning to feel as if was going to explode.

My cell phone rings.  This is EMS, where are you? 

Me:  I am in SVMC ER.

EMS:  You didn't wait for the ambulance?  (was this a question or not, I couldn't figure out).

Me:  911 said they couldn't send an ambulance.  So I got help elsewhere.

EMS:  okay

Me:   CLICK

I hear my name.  And, attempt to wheel myself in the direction of the voice calling my name.  But, I am going in circles.  The nice security guard comes to my aid.  He goes in and finds out that they didn't call my name.

I wait a few more moments and hear my name again.  He brings me in.

All the while I am trying to keep from vomiting because me head is hurting so much.

They do their stuff.  EKG, blood, neuro exam.  I fail the neuro exam.   Of course, I can't keep my head up and am very weak by this time.

The ER doc said my INR level was too high.  I'm being admitted.

I fall asleep.

Wake up to see I am being wheeled to go for a CAT Scan and Chest XRay.

It was as pleasant as an ER experience could be.  I ask for pain meds, I get it.  A big shot in my IV.  If I still have a headache, I don't care now.

I got in my room quickly and went back to sleep.  A nurse wakes me up.  She has a lot of papers and another big shot.

I was there from Tuesday morning to Friday afternoon.  My neurologist's associates come in and out visiting often.  My pain management doc makes a few appearances.  I'm treated well.

It ends up that I have been having increased seizure activity.  My seizure meds are increased.  I need to follow up with my neuro and they will do an MRI.  (They have their own MRI facility attached to their office.)

I am home, very tired.  With a faint headache.  They held my coumadin (jantoven) while I was there.  My levels are too low now.  I have to follow up with the coumadin center.

Hints for a pleasant hospital experience......

Send your nurse flowers while you are still in the hospital.  You become their favorite patient and they do stuff for you.

DON'T CALL 911 WHEN YOU ARE RIGHT OUTSIDE OF THE HOSPITAL, IT MAKES THE 911 OPERATOR CONFUSED.

As I read Loretta's journal this morning, I sobbed.

Not for Loretta, for she has an astounding emotional ability to move on.

I cried for me.

I cried for the loss I feel.

I am unable to see the fix.

How long can I go on fighting.

Not for my life.

But for the battle in my life.

And, what a battle it is.

I long hopefully to win the battle.  Just once in a while.

Which one?  There are so many that plague my existence.

Lupus has declared war on me.

But, there are so many battles.

My chosen battle is PAIN.

The issue is that I am unable to gather the troops.  To bring them together so that they understand what I need.  (the troops being the medical community).

I thought I was winning this battle. 

Well, I believed that I had found my general.  He went by the name of PAIN MANAGEMENT MAN.

I am just a soldier in this battle.

But, my general has no foresight.  He lacks compassion.

I sat sobbing in the chair across from his desk on Friday.

He spoke saying that he did not understand how I could still be experiencing pain.

He went on tosaythat the med I am currently on is equivalent to like 40 vicadin daily.

I asked him what his point was.  He said that maybe my lupus is flaring.

I said..........Duh.

His look was priceless.  His remark not so.

This may be a rheumatological problem, contact your rheumatologist.

I calmly spoke through my tears. Every word thought out carefully.  Despite my anxiety at that moment.

The words were difficult to come.  But, I managed to remind him of the reason I first came to see him.

You are a pain management doctor.  I have pain. I first came here to have you manage my pain.  Not to be given the pain medication speech.

Friday's appointment was an emergency visit.  I was told to bring the rest of my fentanyl patches with me.  I knew the reason for this.  So, they could ensure that I was not an addict.

The next scheduled appointment is for Thursday.

He asked to see the patches I had left.  Of which I had three left.

Which is the exact number I should have left.  That rules out the addict theory. 

And, don't think  I didn't remind him of that.

Then he had an epiphany.  He looked at the patches and then said....

You have the wrong patches.

Apparently it goes this way.  There are three kinds of patches for the dose I am on.

The name brand.

Two generics.

One generic sucks.

The other works.

I had the one that sucked.

His attitude switched.  He knew what to do to help me.

He said you need the sanyo patch.

AMAZING!

I became so angry at him.  Maybe my anger should have been directed to my pharmacist.  But, it was towards PAIN MANAGEMENT MAN.

I said, I'm quite happy about this at least.  But, you should have asked about this prior to your previous belittling speech.

I was so upset at his minimizing attitude.  Do I look like a drug addict?

I reminded him of what occurred during our first visit.  That I had asked for pain site injections.  I had voiced my feelings on wearing 75 mcg of fentanyl on my arm.

That I was hopeful that he would be able to effectively manage my pain.  That when I call crying, it's not because I am looking for someone to decry my feelings.

So, I left there with two prescriptions.  Apparently, 75 mcg is hard to acquire.  Pharmacists have difficulty ordering them.  I left to fill one for 25 mcg and one for 50 mcg.  But, not without his comment that I may have to pay out of pocket for them since my current Rx still has 6 days left.

LOL

The new patches work better.  At least I am not crying out in pain with each movement.

Pain will ever be my companion.

I should get used to it.

But, when the pain is so horrid, it's a hard task to accomplish.

So, I still cry.

Have lost the battle this week.

Not the battle on pain itself, but the battle with SUPER PHYSICIAN MAN. (or all of my physician's).