Frustrating

This is another one of those medical posts I might leave up or I might delete.  I don't need anyone to comment.  I think I am just letting out my frustrations and getting over it. 

I am still mad that I got sick. Is that rational? No it is not. But facts don't make it less frustrating.  I am tired of doctors and drugs and appointments and insurance compainies and pharmacies. 

After a brief break, I started again. The hospital called out of the blue and wanted to schedule a CT Scan. I scheduled it and never asked who ordered it.  It was pulmonary.  I read the results and printed them. 

I had a follow up with my primary. He didn't want to give an opinion and said to wait for pulmonary to follow up. They haven't.  

Today I had an appointment with cardiology. He did not mention anything, but when I read the clinical notes on line, he found decreased lung sounds. Should someone be worried about this? Or the "numerous" nodules grouped in my lungs? Or am I being a big nervous baby? 

The cardiologist has ordered a test I have never heard of that will see how I am doing on the medication. It did not sound like a big deal. I looked it up. I will have IVs and the test itself will take 90 minutes. So a bigger deal than a CT Scan.  But it sounds like I will get some good answers (whether I want them or not).  And he did schedule an appointment to talk about these results. 

And here is what I am really mad about.  I have been doing everything right. I started walking at the gym and am up to 2 miles a day.  I completely changed my eating habits, cut out sodium and caffiene. I have lost over 24 pounds since the heart incident in January all on my own.  And none of these doctors noticed. Why do they even weigh you? What is the point?  

Today the cardiologist asked if I had noticed a weight gain. I know it is because we are worried about retaining fluid.  But good grief. I said NO, actually I have lost almost 25 pounds.  He said, gosh, how did you do that?  

I'm petty. I am mad.  Shouldn't they compare numbers from your last visit? Jeesh. I feel like their first words should be, oh, you have lost weight.   

And because I am me, I don't mention this.  The cardiologist actually described me in the clinical notes as a "pleasant woman of 69".   And then he doubled my medication. 

I would also like to add that my family has not mentioned anything about my weight loss - like "mom, have you lost weight?"  or "mom, you look really good" or any acknowledgement.  Do they not notice? 

 

Two Days

I can't keep up, I'm sorry.  I never meant to go missing for so long without posting.  I wouldn't be here at all if I hadn't had to dig in some old photos and got ahead with my Memory Mondays.  For no reason I can fatham, I feel like I am running backwards in life. 

Here is how I spent two days of my life.  

My son is a police detective. Our town has decided to "change the colors" of our police department. Who knew police departments had "colors".  All of his uniforms and jackets and accessories have insignia in the old colors - a brown background, green and black lettering, khaki accents.  The new colors and grays and navys. This affects me how?

He usually wears street clothes. But due to personnel issues and the offer of additional pay for overtime (he needs a new roof) he was back in uniform for Memorial Day weekend. And he needed at least one shirt and one jacket to have the new insignia.  Each sleeve on each garment requires the large badge looking thing and the sergant strips so that means 4 patches for each garment.  And because he is my son, he waited until the last minute.

We started by using my seam ripper to remove all the machine stitching from the factory when the shirt and jacket were ordered. This took me quite a while.  

Let me insert a special issue.  I had cataract surgery recently.  For my left eye I had a regular lens inserted. What I did not know was that it would worsen my close up vision when it corrected my distance vision.  So when we did my right eye, I paid the big bucks (almost $2000) for the bifocal lens. Unfortunately I am always the "one in a million" and the lens improved but did not correct my vision.  At this time I have different prescriptions for distance and for close up for each eye. I am wearing bifocals I bought on amazon that are the correct precription for my left eye but not my right eye and clear for distance which is my left eye but not my right eye.  This means it is fun to see small details. 

Back to day one.  It took me all morning just to remove the old patches.  The only good thing I can say is that the pin holes from the factory stitching left an imprint to line up the new patches.  

I used long quilting pins to line up the first sleeve and decided maybe it would be easier to sew them on by hand.  I used to be quite the handsewer.  Well, the patches are heavily machine embroidered and have some kind of plastic coating on the back.  My thinner needles were almost sharp enough to force throught the patch, but the needles would bend or break. And my thicker, stronger needles were not sharp enough to go through the patch.   

By afternoon I gave up and went for our two hour walk.  When I came back, I re-pinned the first sleeve and decided to use my sewing machine.  I have not used my sewing machine in a long time.  I had to wind a new bobbin in navy thread.  I remembered how to do that.  Then I had to thread the needle. I spent almost 20 minutes and could not get it threaded.  I finally rigged my husbands shop lantern to shine on the needle and bobbin plate without blinding me and got the needle threaded.  But the bobbin seemed jammed.  

Using the lantern along with a lamp and ceiling light to try to see what I am doing. 

I spent all kinds of time trying to remove the bobbin holder.  I looked on Youtube and chats . I was getting very frustrated.  I finally googled troubleshooting my sewing machine model and was reminded that after you wind a new bobbin, you have to move one little piece back where it was before the bobbin will work.  Duh. I knew that.  

Taking a photo of the needle with my phone to enlarge it so I can see if there is thread in the needle. Because I did "sew" one patch on with an unthreaded needle. 

I did a practice round with an old patch on one of my husband's old work shirts. Then had to rip it out. 

So finally we are ready to sew patch one.  Did I catch the other side of the sleeve while trying to sew it just past the shoulder? Yes, twice.  So then I got to pick out that patch and redo it.  Did I catch the opposite side of the sleeve on both large patches on the jacket? Of course I did.  I did manage to sew one set of stripes on with no problem. And then I caught the sleeve on the second sleeve, had to pick it and re-sew it.  

Picking out stitches and entire seams that have caught in the sides of the sleeves. 

Then I went to bed. 

The next day I was sure would go better.  This shirt was short sleeved and would be easier to twist.  I caught the sleeve on the first large patch and had to pick it and re-sew it.  I repeated the same steps as the day before, sewing, picking and re-sewing both of the large patches and one of the smaller ones.  

Then I pressed the jacket and the shirt, walked two miles and went to bed. 

When he picked them up I told him that I would like to offer to pay the cost of whatever a professional would like to charge to redo the patches in the new colors on all the other articles of clothing he has.  How I ever survived two girl scouts and three boy scouts, I will never know. 

And that was two days of my life. Ier thick and have a plastic coating on the back. Couldn't push a needle through

Memory Monday: Memorial Day

My grandmother and my mother had a firm belief that every family must travel to our local park, known as Memorial Park, and have a family picnic on Memorial Day, regardless of weather.  

Here we are on a freezing cold Memorial Day 1983.  Left to right - a very pregnant (with my fourth child) Miss Merry, my mom in her blue coat, my dad clutching a cold beverage while bracing himself against the wind, my grandmother setting the table her way and my poor husband assisting her. 

Memory Monday: Graduation

 Sorting through old photos and I found these from 1974. 

My graduation photo. We had a choice of b/w or the new thing - color. I chose black and white because my best friend chose black and white to match her two older sisters. 

The photographer recommended we wear white sweaters for contrast and for our 8x10 "oil" tinted photo our parents framed, he would tint the sweater the color of your choice. My friend and her sisters all wore the same sweater and had it tinted different colors. I am pretty sure mine is white in the 8 x 10.  

Meanwhile I had two younger brothers and their portraits on the wall were normal color photos. 

Graduation Day