Sunday, September 28, 2014

On a Lighter Note

So I looked over my last few posts and we need some

light heartedness.
But I can't give it yet.

I was too tired to finish up how the rest of the  infusion day went. - After the kind nurse held my IV in place and then I left the hospital with Padre....

- for documentation purposes on my 2nd dose, I left that place like jello; prednisone veins caused bursting in the IV arm and capillariess up my right arm- leaving it to hurt pretty bad.

As I tried to walk down the hallways of the hospital with my cane I took note of everything. Actually, my cane pulled me along! I went slower -because I had to.  No amount of mind over matter was working, Readers! I almost asked for a wheelchair when I came upon an open doorway but the staff room was empty! So I took a rest and walked slower. And I kept my head high.
(which was hard to do. I was praying it wasn't permanent. And if it was, that it wouldn't get worse and I'd be using my finger to navigate a big huge wheelchair. ahh! Turns out I improved a bit. Yay!


(Glad those football pads provide a multitude of protection- even from cameras!)

Barely outta the Infusion room I came across a person in scrubs. Said hello. REally said hello. Met the person's eyes and smiled. The sun was streaming through the windows and as I came upon two nurses ahead of me in the hallway. They also met eyes with me and said hello... and something else because we had an exchange of niceties that I can't recall but it was in essence words to cheer me on. I was limping, using a cane, and obviously must have looked in some serious need of rooting a person on. I appreciated that. (Because I haven't quite yet embraced my handicaps and limitations. Yes, I high five others, usually grandmas, using canes but I haven't felt for a minute that this is what I want in life; to lose or become limited in my abilities. Nope. )

The person they were helping was in a wheelchair, connected to some serious equipment along with the IV- so I was prepping myself for my first glance and smile with this person. When I reached the point where I passed the trio, she looked up and expected me to not acknowledge her. Or at least it seemed.

Her eyes were the the last of the light in a shell of a body that seemed to be on its way out. So I smiled at her and said hello and to.... take care. And nodded. Continueing on dragging myself by a cane down the hall after the Entyvio seemed a heck of a lot easier after seeing this woman.

Wow. Is this post not lighter yet? It will, hang on. Only five out of the twenty plus encounters didn't respond to my 'openness.' The lady was dressed really professional, seemed to work for the hospital and was talking to a subcontractor or something about the lay out of the floor. I guess. She was pointing out the poisiton of the elevator in conjuction to.. whatever... why am I adding these details?

Someone grab me a journal.

Good grief. I guess I am recalling all of it with A LOT of clarity because that infusion was poignant. Everything can change on a dime. +

I walked in somewhat crippled and gimped out officially crippled. For whatever reason. I mean, right now, as I type, I have soaked a foot in epsom salts, heated up a calf muscle and then the foot because my legs are killing.

Another note to the prednisone community on here- watch out for long term/ no turning back damage to tendons and ligaments. Foot pain. Ankle pain. Fractures?  Loss of elasticity? They feel like glass. There is some throbbing going on and I pivoted earlier and it felt like I almost broke my leg below the right knee.

Right now I also have to strap on my boot to keep the left foot stretched out. Both feet have fasiitis.

Okay- ready for the light part? I managed to get to the lobby and sat down where three people had to take in the second time I cried. First of all, it was so pretty outside. High 80's, flowers still bluming, people talking and walking. A person leaving the hospital with their flowers and such with them as they waited for a ride. Green grass. So this is light, right?

(how long since Padre has graced the covers of my blog! He is expounding on something technical to do with computers or Apple upgrades, or something that is waaayyy over my head under the circumstances. Heck as I took pics of the flowers for you I struggled to even hold the camera. That's some post Entyvio weakness, folks.  )

Well, I did still feel pain and I had to wrangle on my ankle braces for extra support because that trip from the infusion room was harder than any other I've had- walking wise.

There is a fountain that I concentrated on in order to endure the pain I felt and the headache/migraine. My whole existence felt on a basic level. Concentrating on breathing. Noticing all that it took to get that oxygen into my lungs real deep and then slowly let it out.

I just stared at the water go over the light orange rock. Entranced by this rock's..... beauty? The water's..... continual burbling over it? Pretty zen, that is for sure. But I was holding onto the sight like it were a life jacket or raft or that round thing they throw in the water when you are overboard.

 DAng brain. Forgetting words.

 I took it in like a museum painting. So here was this pain in me and then this beauty and with it appreciation for life.  And the tears came again. Things get lighter, hold on.

They [tears] washed over my cheeks like that water on the rock; down off the top where it glistened in the afternoon sun and then fell into the pool below. I didn't full on bawl. 0Only a few tears actually escaped.- And I had some make-up in my purse to help with the mascara lost in all of the day's events. (which is highly unusual but I have mascara and so I have to use it,. right?)

Three folks next to me didn't seem to be bothered by me. They were wrapped up in their conversations and there wasn't the acknowledgement I'd felt with the others I'd encountered. Maybe it was because the Infusion Floor is next to ICU and so there is more of a reverence?

Anyway, I saw the truck pull in and I headed outside, opened the door and


(once again- random flowers by a nice lighting addition to the front yard. Fun for cool evenings and lit up the yard for those coming and going in the dark. Like me. From a neighbor's house or whoever had to turn the water off if it was still turned on. Worst feeling. When ya are snuggled up for the night and the sound of the water on- just the timer shut off. doh! WHY did Padre not put in a sprinkling system??)

Could Not Get Into the Truck. Wah? My right leg gave out like  person who is hypnotized falls back into a sleep at the snap of the hypnotist's snapping fingers. Gently it just gave way and I fell into the seat.

Now, Padre had texts with me through out the whole afternoon. And I noticed that he was a bit emotional behind his darkened glasses. But it was business as usual after i got into the truck and back to real life!

That is what is so weird about illness; you can't bring anyone along for the ride. So much happens that I have to keep on top of and, yet, not let anyone feel the stress of it. To get it outta the way so that I can just be Mom. Make meals, do laundry, nag about socks on the ground, etc., etc.

Kids need to hear the truth- be honest with them and see that you are okay. But it amazes me about what "goes down" in an appt. or an infusion that only me and the nurses/doctors/ janitor really comprehend. Then I have to tuck those things away and carry on when I am back to "real life."


(This is why I have to tuck things away! I gotta root this kiddo on. And, believe me, I had no idea how handy Coach Guilford's pep talk have come in handy when trying to give them to Jaden. Whew!)

And all I can remember is him telling me about jpegs and gigs, and technological stuff. And how he'd been looking At Bish's RVs over at the mall and that they had one that he thought would be perfect for a family member and the dimensions to it.

(waiting for it..... they like to kneel while they wait for the other guys to eat up the clock in a huddle)

That's right, Readers. I have inherited my gift of, "lots of information to give" from the Padre gene pool. I closed my eyes and nodded but declined the offer to go look at something to do with the technology sermon I was hearing, but I had to get home so I could be there for J. after school.

I suppose the moral of this post is that if you want a lighter read, the hospital isn't probably the best place to start. Whatever funny I had to say, I'm sure will end up in a later post.

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