My Apologies

2015-11-232015-11-24 Miss Poison Honesty, Life, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing Fibromyalgia, Heart Health, Honesty, Life, Life Vest, Migraines, My Brother, Pain, Patient X, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Stress, Thanksgiving, Writing

Hi everyone! I know this isn’t a typical visiting experience at the moment, but I assure you I am doing my best.

When you’re caring for a post-op heart patient, every single day blends into the one before. I likely wouldn’t know it was Monday if I hadn’t intentionally bypassed Friday and Saturday’s normal routine of running errands, only to overdo it yesterday. I have spent a lot of time putting off every aspect of my life to dispense medication at regular intervals, to pour drinks (apparently I close everything very tightly, who knew?), and coax Patient X to eat a few times a day. These may seem like simple tasks, and they are, but if I leave the room for 45 minutes, sometimes less, I hear a tiny voice asking “Are you hiding from me? Am I making you sick?” That’s if I listen for it.

The fact of the matter is: I like silence and privacy. In fact, I crave these things. I don’t like being up ’til 3:00 a.m. unless it is my choice to do so. I don’t like sitting on the couch for 4-8 hours a day in order to keep someone entertained, because while the TV is clearly on in order to “entertain”, I can’t watch anything I truly want to see (I spent an hour in my room late Saturday night watching an episode of a show that ends in a few weeks because I can’t do so downstairs; some asshole didn’t want to see it and despite the fact that it’s my remote, it’s not worth it.). I find myself looking down at my phone a LOT, and no matter what I do to try to be in bed by 10:30 each night, I cannot sleep.

If you have any experience with a cardiac life-saving device called “Life Vest”, you know that this device can go off for any reason, even while changing the battery. Thursday morning the piercing sound threw me out of bed in its utter alarm, and I went flying down the stairs to make sure he was alive and conscious. He later told me I shouldn’t have panicked; the device has a 100% success rate at reviving someone if anything should go wrong. It’s intended purpose is to shock you back to life if need be, and it can probably be heard down the street. Mind you, from the second they put it on him, he has complained that it’s the equivalent of a “male bra”. It does sort of look like a sports bra and it looks uncomfortable because there’s so much to it, so I’ve had to listen to it go off several times over the last week. I tried sleeping through it Friday morning, as it was still dark. Saturday it went off in the early evening hours, but it was still annoying as all hell to hear the sound out of nowhere. Not as annoying as someone dying in my presence (No thanks, I’ll pass.), but it’s simply that noise itself does not agree with this chronic sufferer of migraines.

Certain types of noise are triggers and unfortunately, I never know what will cause a migraine. I only recently switched up my medication, but I did have a very long stretch over the last few weeks where one migraine lasted over a week. I had no choice but to ride it out. 😦

Today, I hurt from my neck to my toes. There’s not a part of my body that doesn’t feel bruised and battered. Okay, there are a few parts that are okay, but that’s about it.

Thanksgiving in the U.S. is this Thursday. In my last-minute prep attempt, I decided what to make and bought everything yesterday. I am grateful that no one in their right mind thinks it’s acceptable for me to make an entire turkey for two people. I cannot fathom tackling that at the moment. Every turkey I so much as glanced at was over 20 pounds, but since they were frozen solid on top of that, who knows how much they actually weighed. I found something small that will fit the bill. I don’t expect it to last more than two days, which is perfect. Wednesday I will make the stuffing in advance (Let’s face it, I will be eating stuffing Wednesday night. I am addicted.) so that I don’t have to cook for hours on Thursday. Patient X is on a little-to-no salt, low-fat diet. I’ve already broken multiple health rules in order to get him to eat. I’m making a small amount for him with as little sodium as possible. He has told me for nearly a week now that everything I’ve made is “full of flavor”. Apparently that is the component missing in all hospital food. I can safely make sure that the rest of the stuffing actually tastes like something though (Yay!). I’m contemplating a citrus base for the main course. If only I had known in advance that I’d have a sudden craving for mashed potatoes, I would have also put that into consideration because apparently this is a carb kind of week. I still might make them, at the last-minute, providing I have a medication run to use as an “excuse” to do it. As things stand now, I might very well need to get another pie too. While completely unnecessary, it does make Patient X happy. Personally I don’t want vegetables made into pie, but perhaps that’s the American in me. Pie should be something enjoyable if you’re going to have it at all.

I am exhausted, in a lot of pain, caring for someone I normally can’t tolerate for more than short periods of time, and I still have my real life going on amidst all that. I’ve shelved as much as I can for the remainder of the year, but there is still much to do. The last thing I can even bother to think about at the moment are the truly stupid things in life. Wow, that statement covers so much…perhaps one day I will write about it. Hell, I’m lucky I remembered to pay my bills this month with all that’s going on! 😦

I hate the holiday season. It is a constant reminder that I am alone in this world, that my family is gone, and that those who are still alive (minus a few people) are horrible human-beings.

Despite amazing friends and loved ones, despite the adorable sweetness of Cat and Kitten, the holidays suck for me. I did get some nice gifts in advance of Chanukah (Shout out to my awesome Aunt.) and two belated birthday gifts (Again, my Aunt, but also a fabulous necklace from Sweet Blossom Gifts that I adore. If you’re going to be shopping on-line this year and you want something personalized and unique, I highly recommend them. They have everything from coffee mugs and pillows to jewelry. I can say for a fact that the jewelry is stunning in person and their prices are very reasonable.) that were such a lovely surprise (If you know the name of one of my favorite stores, you know I will be hitting up the post-holiday sale.), but I won’t be gift-giving this year. Things are simply too stressful and I have absolutely no time to do it. I barely know my name, the last place I need to be is a store. I also lack the desire to do anything for anyone over the age of five. Everyone knows they’re in my heart and that I am there for them 24/7. They don’t need expensive gifts to remind them of that fact. Sometimes, people truly just want to be thought of in a positive way. I’d rather someone send me a card and tell me something of value as opposed to forcing themselves into stores and not taking the time to enjoy the season itself. Those are precious moments. Actions are just as important as words.

I am trying, with all of my might, to get through the remainder of the year with my head firmly on my shoulders. Patient X has a long road to recovery (If one more person tells me he will be chopping tress down in six months, I will hit them. For starters, he’s never chopped a tree in his life, so I highly doubt he’s going to take that up once he’s healed.) and while he is indeed healing (there’s been remarkable improvement this week), he is also weak and will definitely require physical therapy. His vocal cords are still pretty bad, but hopefully I will know more after his first post-op appointment after Thanksgiving. The fact that I’ll be able to force him off of my couch and into the fresh air, albeit cold, for several hours almost makes me giddy. The not so giddy part is that I do have to go with him, otherwise I won’t know precisely what the doctor says. Let’s just say that the anesthesia that was used has some side effects and there are parts of his memory that simply aren’t there at the moment, which is quite scary for me to hear, but scarier for him because he knows he should know these things and keeps wondering why his brain is foggy and he can’t form coherent thoughts or access his memories. If ever I find that anesthesiologist, I might have to sit him down and explain certain things to him in thinly veiled threats. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had to do it and I’m certain it won’t be the last.

If you’re celebrating this week, I wish you a wonderful, happy, and safe holiday. If you’re not, I wish you were coming to my house so I could cook for you. 😉

Be safe on Black Friday. It’s a fucking jungle of psychosis fueled by insane amounts of caffeine. I will be as far away from the madness as possible. Of course, I will still have someone hogging my TV and eating my food. If you see a good-looking man being auctioned off on eBay, I assure you I’m the seller. LOL.

shoppingwith — This has been me, for nearly a month. I’m not 100% sure what I’m even buying any more.

Patient X

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Patient X is being released into my care this evening after major surgery at the beginning of the month. Discharge was repeatedly delayed by post-op illness and absolute idiocy on the part of doctors arguing over proper procedure. It took them nearly a week to discover that he had not one, but two separate infections. Thank G-d for Infectious Disease Specialists who put their foot down. #Respect Of course, the fact that I called the head of the hospital and informed them that discharging a cardiac patient with an infection is grounds for a lawsuit might very well have secured his bed for an additional three days. For the record, I try never to use the word “lawsuit”, except when it pertains to protecting my family’s health, their rights, or rights in general that may be in a violation type of situation. I know people who throw the word around way too often for no reason. It shouldn’t be used lightly.

I’m nervous about taking care of him for eight weeks (twelve if there are any setbacks) while he isn’t allowed to drive or do much, except the most basic things. For the next two months, the heaviest thing he can lift is a gallon of milk. In 4-6 weeks, longer if insurance delays it, he is supposed to have a second procedure done to ensure that his heart returns to 100% in terms of function. It’s a procedure that should only take a few days. The surgeon informed me that one or more procedures may need to be re-done in 25 years. However, this surgery has given my brother a new lease on life. Never before this absolute wake-up call would he have agreed to quit smoking or make healthier choices in regard to his health. It is sad that it had to come to something so severe, but I am determined to do what I can to make sure he heals properly and adheres to this new “heart healthy” lifestyle. It’s a serious change, but if he wants to live longer than either of our parents did (the situations were, obviously, quite different), then he is going to have to do his level best to commit.

Open heart surgery is rough. I would not wish this on my worst enemy. Hearing him struggle to breathe, cough, and move makes me ill. Knowing that his vocal cords need additional time to heal, along with his heart and wounds, just plain saddens me. That a single soul would tell me to leave for my move and let him recover alone pisses me off. I thank G-d this happened when I was physically in a position to do something to help and was not hundreds or thousands of miles away. In a situation like this, you do not want to get the dreaded phone call. Every time the phone rings and it’s the hospital, I get ill. Once he is released to me as a “patient”, he probably won’t be too thrilled, but he has already said he’s just so happy to be alive that he doesn’t care what I say or do. We’ll see how long that lasts.

I am sure I will utterly lose my head when I find out the total of the roughly fifteen prescriptions he’s going to have to take, only some of which are for the next six months. His surgeon assured him that nearly everything was cheap because they’re generics, but someone ought to clue the doctor in that even Walmart has a list of medications that are on their list of drugs they’ll cover for $4-$10, based on the number of pills and how long it’s prescribed for, but that the others are nowhere near the word “cheap”. The cost of medication in this country is utterly insane, but it’s right up there with the cost of healthcare, one of the biggest rackets on the planet. There is no possible way not to get a headache dealing with the drama.

Over the weekend I received the first bill for two separate tests they ran when he was admitted last month. The physicians who billed will have to whistle Dixie while dead before they see a penny from me. Process that shit to the insurance company, don’t send it to a third-party who isn’t a legal guardian. I am not allowed to stress out Patient X, lest he tear something inside his chest, so I haven’t told him about the bill. I won’t be telling him about any that come. I’m just going to get on the phone quietly and handle what needs to be handled. If you hear about me on the news, don’t be surprised.

As of this evening I will start accepting all gifts of alcohol (or dark chocolate) because I am almost certain my new “water bottle” is going to have vodka in it the second he whines or complains about anything I do. He texted me this morning to make sure his ginger ale would be “ice cold” for his arrival. Tomorrow I get to make Jello and pudding, like a proper little Real Housewife from Hell. 😛 If I get hit by a vehicle this week, it may or may not have been of my own volition. On a good day, there’s only so much bullshit I can take. On a bad day, well, you don’t want to know what I’m like on a bad day.

In preparation for all the fun I’m about to have tonight, and in the weeks to follow, I may or may not attempt to drown myself in the shower. But first, I need to find Cat and Kitten and get some unconditional love. I open their cans; they know where their bread is buttered. LOL. Is it too late for a straitjacket?

Hanging By A Very Fine Thread

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I think what little is left of my sanity snapped Thursday afternoon when I received word that my brother will likely need open heart surgery, providing he is a viable candidate. If that is not an option, he will require a heart transplant. These are the kinds of words that make you want to sink into the earth.

During his last physical his doctor said his heart was healthy and strong, she was very pleased with the results from all of his tests, so I’m asking myself how things got so bad, so quickly. In turn, it’s making me wonder if my heart is a ticking time bomb, despite being told that I “have the heart of an 18 year old”. What does that even mean to doctors?! How can you trust them? Much like lawyers, I’m starting to suspect they’re all in it for the money, minus the few good doctors I do know who are caring, kind, and give 110% to their patients. Why help people when you can simply get paid?! Thank GOD I did not become a doctor or a lawyer. I would not be able to look at myself in the mirror in either profession. 😦

I have been advised to begin genetic testing to find out “what’s in my future” due to this occurrence. I’m much more inclined to look into a crystal ball.. The fact of the matter is, we all inherit good and bad genes. All of us, no one is genetically perfect. I do not want to play G-d with myself. I can understand if I showed signs of something questionable, but I don’t, so the subject matter makes me incredibly uncomfortable. I have already had to tell a family member, more than once, to back off with the know-it-all crap. All I want and need at the moment is emotional support.

My move is temporarily postponed until I know what is happening and exactly how things will proceed. I can’t, in good faith, leave my brother behind in a hospital bed and say “See ya!” That’s not who I am. I know some people would do precisely that, and I am sure someone, somewhere will think that I am a moron for staying behind to take care of him, but I’m not heartless. Surgery will require approximately six months of healing time post-op, and he will need someone to be here for him, even though I won’t be able to do every single thing he might need. If immediate surgery is not the option he & his doctors choose, if things turn to a different type of surgery, like a transplant, I honestly don’t know what I will do.

I can’t spend even 30 minutes inside a hospital. They make me sick and drive me insane. I spent years taking care of my parents when they were ill, and I would not have been able to move or do any of the things I wanted to do at the time knowing that they were sick and needed me. I would have been too far away in an emergency, so this poses a problem for me now as well. I feel bad that I am not with him 24/7. Unfortunately, it did start a fight as to whether or not I “care”. 😦 He does not seem to realize or understand my true value in his life. I have done everything I can to support him through this and be a good sister. I’ve never not been a good sister, I’m not about to start now, but I’m not going to take crap from someone simply because they’re lonely, grouchy, and going through nicotine withdrawal.

When he was in recovery Thursday afternoon at a new hospital he was transferred to, a nurse came to tell him that I had called and was “very worried about him” and that he needed to call me back “right away”. When he asked me about that later on I said “I did not say that.” I hadn’t. I simply tried tracking him down and it took forever once we got disconnected since cell reception in that portion of the hospital is damn near nonexistent. He looked at her when she said it and immediately thought “That doesn’t sound like MY sister. She wouldn’t say that.” I might not verbalize the worry, but obviously I’m not okay about this situation. It’s upsetting and disturbing on more levels than I care to discuss. Who the hell would be okay with it?!

In situations like this, technology is a wonderful thing, though I don’t think I need all the hospital selfies, but I promise to put them in a photo album to show all his future girlfriends. 😉 No, he doesn’t read this.

I realized Friday morning, when he threw me out of bed after less than two hours of sleep because he was finally awake, bored, lonely, and obscenely chatty, that I can’t sit for three plus hours on the phone every single night because he’s awake, though I am glad he is finally resting. Every time my phone buzzes, I jump like I’ve been bitten by a snake. I have the ringer off on the landline because every sound it makes is horrible to my ears. Precisely who makes ringtones for landlines? I want to know. My cell phone isn’t much better. It’s not my personal ringtone choices that bother me, it’s the noise itself. Unless I’m out in public, my phone is always on vibrate. Last night I decided to turn on the “Do Not Disturb” feature on my phone and allow myself to sleep, even if it wasn’t a full night. I knew I needed the silence as I try handling a migraine that has lasted for over two days and the stress of this past week. Up until the last second, he was still arguing with me via text. I cannot deal with that level of crazy. I have my limits.

And yet, it is eerily quiet when my brother is not around talking to Cat and Kitten, slamming my doors, inspecting my refrigerator and cabinets for goodies, blasting baseball or football, asking ridiculous questions, etc. He is the person people see nine times out of ten because I am often in too much pain to do anything outside beyond walking to and from the car.

I am almost certain I scared the crap out of a neighbor when I went outside to bring my garbage can and recycling bin in so that neither of them would go rolling down the street due to the wind. I saw him and his dog coming toward me, he did not see me walking down the driveway, and by the time he looked up, I thought he was going to have a heart attack. As per usual, 99% of the neighbors do not speak to me, and he was no different. They live in the house that drove me nuts for months with the incredibly noisy add-on. On the plus side, the dog didn’t jump on me or bark, always a sign of good training. I honestly didn’t know anyone on the street close enough to me had a dog any more, that’s how quiet this one is. Or perhaps he was simply happy to be out on a walk. I later learned from my brother that he sees this guy walking the dog “at all hours”. He then proceeded to tell me that I’d know who he was if I was not a hermit. LOL. Sue me for minding my own fucking business!

This weekend I am going to attempt to tackle a few things. One, get my brother’s car from the first hospital’s parking lot. Two, try to get over to the hospital with some clean clothes so he will stop bitching (Don’t ask me when I became a maid, because I can assure you that the “pay” on this “job” sucks dishwater.). Three, get groceries. It took me about an hour to realize that the “Shop From Home” app is a piece of shit. I suppose it works fine if you buy the same things every single time you shop, but if you can’t offer me fresh vegetables & fruit with accuracy unless they’re on sale in your current ad, that doesn’t work for me. There is a long list of things you can’t purchase unless it’s in the ad or listed on the site, and it could take longer to compose a list for delivery than it would to simply go and shop myself. An on-line list should not take two hours. Call me crazy, but it should be easier to navigate. I certainly don’t need to pay anyone $20, before a tip, to put an order together and deliver it to me from five minutes up the road. That’s wasteful beyond words.

Everything I need to do should be simple enough, but it isn’t. I am enlisting one of his friends for some help because I’m not superwoman at the moment. If someone can pitch in and throw me a bone to make things easier, that will make a huge difference in my eyes. I hate asking for help, but my brother has driven me insane this week and I’m on my last nerve. I can’t deal with any more of his crankiness. All I can do is my best, if he doesn’t like it, tough titty said the kitty.

I’ve been so stressed and distracted that I damn near forgot it was Halloween. Enjoy trick-or-treating with your kiddos or simply enjoy the holiday aspect for yourself. I know plenty of people who love giving out sweets to everyone that comes knocking tonight. I spare myself the aggravation (I used to really be into it, and perhaps that will happen next year when I am feeling more in the spirit of things.), and I truly have more important things to focus on tonight, but I still hope it is happy and safe for everyone partaking.

If you need me, I’ll be running around like a chicken without its head, but I swear, it’s not a blood ritual of any kind. It’s mere insanity.