I dialed 911 one afternoon because I thought that I was having a heart attack. I had been wide-awake for two nights with a pounding heartbeat, but without the shooting left arm pain, the anxiety of the possible outcome doubling the tightness of shoulder muscles and the paces across the living room floor. Continue reading You’re Not Right
A continuation of the Roanoke story: down, almost gone, but not finished.
The Activity Director and her staff did a terrific job of scheduling creative activities for the residents of the home. There were dry erase boards at two of the nurses’ stations that listed the activities by day and by hour. Continue reading Permanent Marker-The Sequel
The transport ambulance had been 45 minutes late for the 3-hour drive to the convalescent home. And, on top of that, it was raining. Neither of the drivers seemed overly concerned, continually chit-chatting about things that had nothing to do with patient care. Continue reading Permanent Marker
I walked into the doctor’s office and yelled “Doctor, Doctor, it hurts when I move my arm like this!”
And my doctor said “Well, you’re just getting old”
That’s her answer. Every time. Not matter what my complaint. “Doc. Notice how this bone’s sticking out of my shoulder? Sortta like Quasimodo? I think something’s wrong”
“Well, you’re just getting…” Yea, yea, I know. Continue reading Snake Oil