Sunday Stroke Survival: Update on Cardiologist

 

You know a couple weeks when I did my mini rant on my cardiologist? I thought to fire him. Don't get me wrong, I still may. But doing the heart cath just to placate me. He actually found something. Not one but two blocked arteries.

Maybe he learned something akin to how to listen to patients. Maybe some humility. But I doubt it. Guess he's right by his way of thinking I don't have a heart condition because he's already fixed it. but something wrong and he can't figure out what it. All week long he's been trying to puzzle it out. My blood pressure and heart rates are through the roof. Instead of making things better, they've gotten considerably worse, and my life is an awake H3LL!

After two stents were placed at the carotid arteries, blood flow should flow more freely, right? That the heart caths and stents are designed for, right? I have been home for a week and a day since they performed the cath on the 22nd. I spent the entire weekend after discharge in bed asleep having very lucid dreams. I woke my daughter one night saying I was in labor! I was on the verge of being taken back to the hospital by a very worried daughter, when I awoke Monday. On Monday, the increased dose of my blood pressure medicine and an additional blood thinner was ready for pick up. I went into the bathroom when I heard an all too familiar sound. It was my heartbeat. 

It was like a drum beating in my head and I started getting short of breath. I barely made to my dining room chair. I was wheezing bad. I looked at my desk confused. I couldn't Remember why I'd sat down there. 'Sit there and calm down. The air will come.'

I was still fumbled around with things around my laptop. Inhalers! That's what I was looking for. It's the first time in about ten years that I've had a full-blown asthma attack. It took me by surprise. Y'all know me by now. You know I listen to my body like a mechanics listen to an engine and it whispers speak to me. I know how my body reacts or should not react. Something was definitely off with mine. I remembered the protocol rescue first to open air pathways for the steroids to get into my lungs. It has been drummed into my head. Asthma is the only sign that I was a premature baby and it's been a major factor in my life my whole life. It's only been compounded with all my allergies recently.

Albuterol increases heart rates, so the drumbeat was back in my ears. I grabbed my pulse/O2, O2=93 and flashing 96, P 127. That explain the drumbeat. Whenever my

heart rate goes higher than 100 BPM. It vibrates the tiny bones of my inner ears and eardrum works in reverse echoing bodily sounds instead of outside noises like normal hearing. I'm not really sure how it does it or it does it for anyone else. I just know immediately when it does. I used to use it as a tool when I ran strips of V-Fib and was on medication for it years ago. I only used the pulse/ox monitor for him. I've been using it for to monitor my own low heart rates the past few years.

Maybe, whatever switch the neurosurgeons at Emory hit to reverse my BP and HR into low gear was tripped by the heart cath switched it back on. I'm second guessing here. I just don't know. It'd be nice to know what and where that switch was. Think of the medical implications. Maybe, God just said, "Honeymoon's over, kiddo.  Time to get back to life." Or maybe, I was put on this Earth to be Queen of Abby Normal to baffle medical folks. All hail the queen!

The problems is that the return of my high blood pressure puts more strain on my leaky, damaged heart valves. If I have a resting heart rate (sedentary, lying around with your feet up) of up to 127, can you imagine how fast it beats when I'm up and moving? Yeah, you get the picture. I feel like a pile of dog poo and I can't do much. No, I'm not saying all this for pity mongering nor from the self pity mode. Maybe, I brought another doctor to his knees. By throwing his attitude back in his face demanding, "You were supposed to make it better! What did you do to me??" It's humbling when for a god-complex doctor has to say, "I don't know." But honestly, I secretly take joy that I've made him a better man/woman for their next patient. 

All I want is I want to live this life the best way possible!

                                            Nothing is impossible.

Sunday Stroke Survival: Update

My Botox is in. I'm starting to get some relief of the cramping although actual movement and control haven't kick in yet. It will sometime in the coming days. I'll be calling Monday to set up my therapies again. I can't remember when I've been so excited about going. Imagine, seeing positive gains towards recovery!!

I know it's only temporary at this point, only lasting so long as the Botox is working, but the fact is, I'm meeting goals again other than just maintenance. Last time I managed 2 full minutes of standing, a full weight bearing, without my AFO before the spasticity kicks back in. It might not sound like much, but it's 2 full minutes of freedom after 12 years of my ankle and foot being locked in paralysis and/or spasticity. With support, I can sit, stand, and shift weight from my left and right foot for about 20 minutes without my AFO. It will take time to get new pathways rerouted in my brain and strengthen the muscles to combat the spasticity. 

Whew! It's been years since I've had any positive reinforcement to keep at it and hope alive for recovery. As I end every post with "Nothing is impossible," it is pretty tiring and almost trite to keep hope alive and stay positive. For now, 2 minutes of pre-stroke(s) normalcy is enough.

I had a mini nosebleed this week. In the wee hours I went to the little necessary room and noticed two small drops of blood on the floor. I reached for the toilet tissue to apply it to my nose. I also checked that a hand towel was in easy reach. The wad of toilet paper conveniently stuck in the blood to plaster it to my face as I applied pressure to the right sinus near the bridge of my nose. I was in the bathroom between my daughter and son in law's bedroom and mine, so I was within hollerin' distance of them. I kept waiting for the flow to either pour down the back of my throat or out of my nose. The seconds turned to minutes, it didn't. I gingerly remove the pressure from my nose and waited. Nothing. It had stopped on its own just that quick.

Needless to say, I didn't go back to bed. I sat at my computer for about three hours just in case it started again. I was terrified it would. Finally, as the birds outside began chirping and the skies lightened, I went back to bed. In the following days, no reoccurrence of the nosebleed. All I can do is raise my hand to heaven and say, "Thank you, Jesus!" It's nuts to have to live this way, but at least I know what the cause is not that really helps.

I had my visit with the vascular surgeon and the ultrasound showed a little more progression (ballooning) of my triple A (Abdominal Aortic Aneurysm). But it's still in the "wait and monitor" category. We talked about the swelling in my legs. He didn't think it was a vascular origin problem because diabetes was no longer in my mixed-up medical history. With my Hashimoto's diagnosis though, he thought it was more a lymphedema problem. A blood test was needed to confirm. They also scheduled me for an ultrasound of my carotid arteries. It's been a year since it's been done. 

My heart cath was done Friday. Nothing unusual was found or at least nothing stent worthy. He did have a look at my three leaky valves. Yes, he confirmed they were leaking. (Hurrah!) Maybe he's not that bad at cardiology. He talked to me about valve replacement to which I refused. I'm still looking for a new one.

Nothing is impossible.

Sunday Stroke Survival: Dangerous Abscess

On Thursday, I awoke and got out of bed as usual. Except I couldn't bear weight on my AFO clad foot without a knife stabbing like pain in my ankle. Where it bulged out a bit, I couldn't visualize it. My daughter was off from work because of catching COVID-O. She's been fever free for 5 days, so she wasn't contagious anymore. She was going to take me for my ultrasound of my triple A at the hospital.

There was no help for it, I was wheeled everywhere in the transport chair. When my daughter had looked at it and barely touched it with a yelp from me, she said it looked like cellulitis to her. I scoffed at her but still had her to draw around the margins with a Sharpie to monitor size of it. If it wasn't better by Friday, I'd ask my neurologist before my Botox.

By Friday morning it was worse. Definite heat poured from the area. The redness reached down to my toes and to about three inches above the ankle into the calf, but the abscess was still the same size. By my appointment time, the pinkness and swelling areas reaching my mid-calf. I couldn't fasten two straps on my AFO on my old AFO. Remember, it's 3" too big. There was so much swelling that I couldn't put my shoe on.

Anyhow, the neurologist came in and looked at it. Ignoring my yelps of pain from me as he pressed and prodded it. He said it wouldn't interfere with the Botox, so he proceeded. He recommended going to an urgent care or hospital ER to have it drained and be put on antibiotics. Rather than waiting for hours in the ER, we opted for a soc in the box. It would be faster. There was one less than a mile away. It was also sponsored by my hospital of choice.

The nurse practioner came in and examined me. She wanted to drain it and start me on antibiotics. She didn't think she'd get much out because while raised, it didn't feel too liquidity, but she'd try. We discussed a *caine drug first, or to go ahead and just do it. I opted for just doing it and getting it over with. Cold spray and a bit of pressure as the scalpel sliced the skin. It was done before a yelp could form on my lips. Then came the painful part, the squeezing to get the pus out.

"So much is coming out," she exclaimed. She'd changed position of her hands to squeeze more out. Then, "Oh!" My daughter who was helping hold my foot from jerking, "It got you."

The nurse practioner laughed, "It sure did, but we got it."  

I was thinking the whole time she was talking that she was talking about pus (infection) was coming out, so I asked my daughter when the nurse practioner left the room to find a bandage, "How much pus did she pull from it?"

"About an 1/8th of a teaspoon onto her scrubs," my daughter answered. "It looked like the core came with it too."

"Then what was she talking about so much is coming out?"

"That was bloody tinged fluid."

The nurse practioner came back in. Keflex or Bactrim?

Most definitely Bactrim. Keflex gives me a nasty vaginitis as a side effect. It was called into my pharmacy. I was told to come back for a recheck in 3 days which we'll do.

I was sore and bruising, but none the worse for wear.

Saturday was a strange day of the feverish type. I went from hot to freezing in my 76℉ room still unable to bear weight on the leg. My old AFO held in place by my swollen leg even without straps. Now, it's evening and my temperature is 100℉ by my digital thermometer. I knew I hit 100 even before the thermometer reading because it felt like my eyeballs were boiling in their sockets. My daughter asked what I did in these cases because I'm allergic to analgesics. I sit in a tepid bath. I couldn't do that here because we have no bathtubs in this house. The shower it was. It brought my temperature down to 99℉ so I felt better and got out.

The redness was back to my mid-calf too. My daughter's diagnosis may have been right, after all. Cellulitis. Well, the Bactrim should take care of it. Sulfur was used quite effectively during WWII as an antibiotic. Unless the cellulitis is MRSA based. The next twenty-four hours will tell me a lot since the pus wasn't sent to a lab.

If the redness and swelling do not go down some, I'll be hitting the ER for a stronger antibiotic. The site of the incision is still oozing a little bit but trying to heal. I imagine there can be some fluid caught on a swab to be sent to the lab with little trouble. Especially since there is no new cyst like raising to be had. In the mean time, it's back to bed for me.

Nothing is impossible.

Sunday Stroke Survival: What's Ahead

 I'm beginning to have doubts about my cardiologist choice of doctors, I had an inkling at our first meeting and now after my last appointment, that inkling has started to rattle inside. It's like you suspect there is something wrong with your car, nothing really major at first. It's just a suspicion until a rattling or vibration starts. Then you really know something is up. That's how I now feel about him now.

I moved up my appointment from the 15th to last week. I was that concerned about my fluid retention and the heart twinges I'd been feeling. Not really chest pain like angina, just little twinges that last maybe 2 seconds. These had the duration of 20 minutes to an hour. They occurred while I was not active or exerting myself in any way. I was concerned enough to move up my appointment.  I was puzzled and couldn't figure out. I needed to pick his brain as I had done in the past with my other specialists.

When I mentioned a possible link to my heart condition. He was like what heart condition. I reminded him of my status post MI. the stent placement, and three bad valves in my heart thinking he hadn't reviewed my chart before coming in. Unbelievable but understandable in a busy practice. Tech did run a 12-lead EKG after I was put in the room. He said, the stent fixed my heart from the MI, right? I nodded. What about my valves, I asked? Oh no need to be concerned over them. The nuclear study and echo showed only minimal leakage. The edema in my waist and legs? Oh, that isn't coming from your heart. As we age, he began. I halfway tuned him out at this point. He was speaking to me as if I were a child.

This irritates me to no end! I can understand trying to be helpful, but he was borderline of being condescending. He was basically telling me that I had no heart condition. That this visit was a waste of my time and his. All my other cardiologists were wrong and just stringing me along for the past fifteen years! Who would you believe?

He did placate me by scheduling me a heart cath on the 22nd to check on my heart twinges. He doubted whether he'd find anything. I was wondering if he'd be surprised like Dr Bolch was when he had to place a very large stent in my heart in 2005? He didn't think he'd find anything either. He was just placating my regular cardiologist who had seen me through four years of heart concerns. Not that I'm wishing for this mind you. I'm just saying. I know this isn't a Munchausen Syndrome type thing or anything like that. I know my body and listen to it. It may be time to interview a new cardiologist.

Conversely, I love my new endocrinologist! He took the time to read up on Hashimoto's before my appointment with me. To me, that's a sign of a good doctor. He wasn't afraid to say I don't know. We actually had a good chat and exam. He took time examining my thyroid and goiter. He even had me do a swallow test while he examined me. When I mentioned changes in my nails and hair, weight gain, he countered with questions about exhaustion levels and insomnia. He ran another complete thyroid panel and said I should have one done every three months instead of biannually to catch charges before the levels drop off severely. I agreed. He could fine tune it to monthly if needed. I read a NIH study that recommended this approach. This way we might head off the devastating effects of the spontaneous nosebleed symptom of this disease before it happens again and better sleep patterns. Proactive thinking, I love it.  

I was offered a way to live with this disease and not crimp my style too much. He gave me hope. It may not cure me, but at least it's a way out of my doom and gloom box.

What a difference a good doctor makes. I didn't bother my cardiologist with a referral to a vascular surgeon, I left that up to my PCP who I saw later in the day when I got the referral to an orthopedist for my shoulder. Of course, I got that referral too. As I said before, when I say refer me to a good doctor, I mean a doctor you would send your mother to. I'm looking forward to my Botox and getting back into therapies again. Onward we go to more positive gains. 

Nothing is impossible.

Sunday Stroke Survival: A Whirlwind of Doctors

 The last two weeks has been a whirlwind (think tornado) of doctor visits and tests. 

First up was my new Endocrinologist (finally!). He's the old, country doctor sort, and handpicked by me. While he didn't really know that much about Hashimoto's disease, he welcomed the challenge. I imagine he'll be doing a whole lot of research between this appointment and my next one. Yes, he's that type of doctor. Meanwhile he listened intently to what I knew and symptoms I was experienced. He reviewed my blood work and scans. He ordered more like a scan of my lymph nodes which were enlarged also. He basically followed my other endocrinologist's recommendations and treatment plan until he could find out more. He wrote down the information about from the specialist in CA. At this point, I knew I had chosen this doctor well. No god-complex in this doctor at all. I left the office feeling good about my choice.

Next up was my neurologist for Botox. Another finally. The Botox was all but gone from my arm and leg, but unlike before I actually made positive gains in therapy unlike the past four years. I can now, so long as the Botox is working, almost straighten my elbow voluntarily, and I can stand up without my AFO so long as I place my foot in proper alignment fist. It's the first time since 2016 I've been able to do this. Unfortunately, it doesn't work this way when the spasticity is at full force yet. We discussed changing my blood thinner to something "weaker." He said that there wasn't any. But since I was still having small strokes in spite of the Plavix, he was more inclined to increase it rather than decrease it. I had the neurologist's office call in a prescription for PT and OT to start again in around in a week. This is the first outpatient therapy center that takes a month to get into.

Next up was my cardiologist.  After reading the EKG, he determined that the fluid retention was indeed caused by my heart. He wants to schedule another nuclear study to confirm. I scheduled it for two weeks. I posed the same question to him about my Plavix. He agreed with my neurologist. 

Okay, that's two votes against my changing blood thinners. Now both specialists said if I could take aspirin... but I'm allergic to aspirin. I also know if the nuclear study shows what I suspect, then the subject of valve replacement surgery or heart transplant will come up again. Then I'll have to go through my reasoning as to why I won't have either with this doctor. What I don't understand is why the valves could have gotten worse. I have no high blood pressure nor rapid heart rates to aggravate my condition. I guess time has finally caught up with me. It's only 6-15 years past normal outcome predictions. In hindsight, not too shoddy but I'm the Queen of Abby Normal. All hail the queen!

Lastly, my PCP. I asked my PCP at his "interview" appointment did he love his mother? He said he did. Okay then, when I say a "good doctor" I mean a doctor that will listen and treat me as if I was his mother. I've actually seen him more than my "ologists" because the insurance gods require a follow up after a hospital stay or visit. I need a referral to a good orthopedist. With the renewed movement of my shoulder after Botox, my old Rotator cuff tear or maybe a new one is acting up and is quite painful in OT and at home. Considering my PCP was a roll of the dice, I like him.

Well, I guess my PCP wasn't the last and then there's all the testing. So, it begins or it continues. Sigh!

Nothing is impossible.

Sunday Stroke Survival: Holding Patterns

Right now, I'm in a holding pattern with my physical and occupational therapies. I quit showing positive gains and started losing ground as my Botox waned. I've stopped the appointment until a week after I get my next round of shots in two weeks. I found at my last sessions that I was getting more frustrated because of the back sliding progress. Better to save the billable hours with Medicare and my supplement on forward progress than waste them on frustration. In a perfect world I wouldn't have to pick and choose, but we all know this ain't a perfect world.

So, what am I doing with three extra hours a week not spoken for? I'll be pouring them into crafting projects. I've kind of pit them on hold while waiting for us to move. So much so that I even bought a plastic drawer storage container to hold it all. I had to buy another dual temp glue gun after the mini glue gun dropped a 2" piece of hot glue on my leg resulting in a 2nd degree burn just above my right knee.

While waiting for it and the longer, dual temp glue sticks to arrive My youngest granddaughter shopped at the nearest Dollar Tree for future items I'd need for my year-long crafting project plus Christmas for my huge family throng. I ended up buying a second set of storage drawers to keep it all tidy and organized. 

I'm currently looking for a folding card table to use for my battery powered sewing machine/ crafting table for the new house whenever we do move. My 600 sq ft apartment will be replaced with a master bedroom suite at about less than three-quarters the space, but that's okay because I have so little personal stuff. The craft/sewing table will fit between the wall and the side of the bed that I don't use. A queen-sized bed is way too big of a bed for me and one cat. Although it is comfortable.

So. I'm not wasting time twiddling my thumb. As for packing to move, that's not an issue. You see I've basically never unpacked since I've moved here a year ago. My clothes were packed in two large totes. One had warm weather clothes and the other was cold. I simply unpacked and repacked each tote as the seasons changed. The kitchen is another story. That will take about an hour separating my stuff from theirs. All the rest is still packed up from my move here. The rest of the house is the kids' domain. I don't what goes with us or stays. But I'll help them if they sort it.

For now, we are waiting on our seller and closing. Hopefully, it will be before the counterparts for this house.

Nothing is impossible. 

 Have you been searching for a blog post from me for the past few months and found nothing?! 

 TADA! HERE I AM!

Yep! I was MIA for the past several months. I've been found by a few of you long time readers who sent emails checking up on me. So, I thought I'd post a few pixels here to let y'all know I'm still alive.

The truth is that my Hashimoto's disease has been kicking my hinny. Coupled with the exhaustion that plagues me there's a new (or new to me) side to this disease that has cropped up... spontaneous nosebleeds. While aggravating to most who suffer with them, it has a serious component for us folks living post stroke. We are all on some kind of blood thinner to help prevent a subsequent stroke. Therein lies the problem.  My first nosebleed I stood up from my desk intent on going to the bathroom. It took almost an hour to get control of it and stop it.

I wasn't so fortunate with the second one a couple weeks later. I awoke from a nap and started pouring blood from my left nostril. Every place I stopped and had to let loose of my nose, I left a sizeable puddle of blood (about 1/4 cup). By the bathroom sink where I grabbed a couple hand towels, by the freezer where I pulled out the ice pack, and final stop in front of my transport chair. At this last stop I couldn't contain the blood within the hand towel anymore and grabbed another clean one. It was pouring straight from my mouth into the floor. My shirt, bra, and both towels were totally soaked through when I texted my daughter, "HELP!" She came through the two doors separating her room and mine at a run. She'd just come in from work.

She tossed me a roll of paper towels as she went to the bathroom for a towel. I looked into her eyes pleading. "Hospital?" I nodded. There was at least a pint of blood on various floors and towels. One granddaughter was just getting home from school, and the other one was coming home to do laundry and get help with her Anatomy & Phys studying. Both were brought up short by the sight of their momma wheeling their grandmama out front door covered in a bloody bath towel. My daughter and one of my granddaughters helped me into the car. 

We only live 1 and a 1/2 miles from the nearest hospital, but in that time. I'd covered most of the bath towel in blood. A hospital worker chased after us with masks, and then realized I couldn't wear one. My daughter donned hers. I tried to check in but was immediately wheeled into the fast-track side. My daughter went to move the car and I was alone with blood pouring out of my mouth, through the towel, and onto the floor as I tried to answer their questions. Their voices were getting farther and farther away. "Stay with me. Open your eyes." Then my daughter was there. I could hear her but couldn't talk to her. She even used my given name. She knew how much I hated that, but I couldn't reprimand her.

My body was lifted onto a stretcher, and I was wheeled to the real ER. I watched the whole scene from somewhere else. I could hear everything being said around me. Having worked emergency medicine prior, I knew I was circling the drain. They tried to start an IV of fluids and blood. The doctor called for an intubation kit, and then I was back fighting them all off. They had packed off my left nostril to try to stop the bleeding which it marginally did, but blood still trickled down the back of my throat. I'd cough it up and spit it out from time to time. They'd estimated I'd lost a little over two pints of blood. I was admitted.

Three days later, I was whisked away to have my nostril cauterized. The ENT said he burned off the usual suspects and repacked my nose. In other words, he couldn't find the exact veins that were bleeding. The trickle of blood down the back of my throat slowed but didn't stop totally. each morning I awoke with a film of it on the roof of my mouth. I was discharged home a couple days later. That was the end of January. The first week in February, the ENT pulled the packing out-- all 18" of it. I started back on my blood thinners a week later and waited for the next nosebleed. It took a month for the blood tinged mucous and blood clots to stop coming out, but it's stopped for now. Until the next time.

I'm just curious. What would you do? Not taking blood thinners supposedly increases your chances of having another stroke by 75% or roll the dice and don't take your blood thinners in case of nose bleeds. Chance the nosebleeds and take the blood thinners, or chance another stroke?

I got on my Plavix and bought a humidifier. I also squirted Oceans nasal spray up my nose twice a day. I'm doing everything I can think of to head off another nosebleed if I can.

My heart is another issue. My ankles are swelling, and waistline is holding fluid. A lot of fluid. My weight can fluctuate between 10lbs and 30lbs per day. It can make breathing rather difficult. So, I'm stuck in this sedentary life, and I don't like it at all. I hardly recognize myself. So, I haven't been blogging. I really haven't done much of anything except trying to heal and get my strength back. But at least I've touched bases with y'all.

Nothing is impossible. 

Research and a Decision

I've been doing quite a bit of research on my Hashimoto diagnosis. Mainly self help because I don't have a endocrinologist yet. I just want to feel better or at least not feeling so exhausted all of the time so I can get more done. There's also the issues with my heart and cold intolerance. My heart rate and BP have switched back to normal to borderline high normal putting additional strain on my leaky valves. And temperature wise, anything less than 80℉ and I'm grabbing a throw or my flannel shirt. My hands and feet are freezing cold.  I've also gained fifteen pounds and the fibromyalgia flare up too. Although most of what I've talked about here was the sleeping/exhaustion issues.  ALL of it has to do with my Hashimoto flare up. There is so much more to this disease. What I've mentioned is just the highlights. It's totally maddening!

So, the number one culprit in a flare up with Hashimoto is gluten which mimics thyroid cells to antibodies. Almost every site I went to said so. Interesting enough, the one two-hour video, lists glutens as public enemy #1 for all auto immune illnesses even more than night shades. It had to extremely interesting for me to listen for two hours. So after a month of research into a gluten free diet, I decided to do a 30-day trial to see if it makes a difference. It's going to be difficult because I'm cooking for others too.

Nearest I can figure, I've had this disease for a minimum of one stage or other for two and a half decades! But, only recently that a doctor looked at my medical history with all the diagnoses, all my medications, what I was telling her, and put it all together. Even my allergies are a symptom of Hashimoto. According to the doctors, Hashimoto is triggers by a strong emotional event and an infection/virus that is stubborn to "cure." That's been my whole life.  LOL  

As I back tracked, I found it all fit into this neat little package. The craziest part is it isn't caused by the thyroid gland at all. The thyroid gland is a major player though that causes the majority of symptoms that leads to the diagnosis. My thyroid is responding to being under siege by antibodies. It's a misfiring of the BRAIN that causes my own body to attack itself. My poor brain. It may weigh only 2% of my body weight but it controls so much of who we are. Unfortunately, there is no miracle medicine or treatment for this disease like so many ailments like living post stroke striving for recovery. But...

Nothing is impossible.\

Botox is In!!

 The Botox injections are in and working. Or at least, beginning to. The pressure on my ankle pulling it to the inward and downward spasms are lessening. Now, I just need to get into physical therapy to get some gains to combat the post stroke spasticity. It will means Tens application, physical stretching, exercises, and yes, even dry needling to make it all happen.

The things we go through trying to recover what we lost. Or, for me, to recover what the spasticity has taken away because I was well on my way towards recovering my arm and hand function when the spasticity gradually took it all away again. Darn post stroke complications or side effects. I could play woulda, coulda, shoulda until the cows come home... if I had some to begin with. But it doesn't change the facts. It is and I have to get it back.

Rebecca over at Home After A Stroke and Dean over at Dean's Musings have posted over and over about how many repetitions it takes to recover. Both have been at this longer than I have. The amount is staggering, but none of us quit. We're all working toward recovering.  So, once again I'll get ready to get up and go. In the hope of strengthening my tricep, extensor muscles and my ankle enough before the Botox begins to wane. The spasticity won't pull me over the abyss into full fledge painful contortions again.

This I can fight. The fight for a PCP and endo will have to wait for days between therapy sessions. I'm picking the battles I can almost win. I waited for the painful cramps during the six months of doctor scheduling. The didn't occur until the week before my Botox injections. That's a positive because normally they would have started the week before my three month Botox injections. I'm not discounting God's Grace in all of this either. I've been thanking and praising Him for weeks now. 

  Nothing is impossible.

Sunday Stroke Survival: Still Sleeping, But Getting Some Things Done Too!

Have you heard of store shelves left empty without restocking? I witnessed it today. It was panic buying  before a hurricane. I asked a stock person if there was any dishwashing detergent in the back. Sadly, he shook his head. I was left the grocery not buying quite a few items on my list.

Now, I use coupons to shop with. I don't buy twenty or thirty of the same items. I'll buy maybe four of a given item. That's my personal maximum.  I have made a conscientious decision toward stock piling items in my stores of open one buy two to replace it. This way there is enough for everyone. Sounds logical and responsible, right?

Pre COVID lock/shut down there was abundance, if not a glut, of choices. Since the reopening the choices are limited brands available and number available. Not that I'd buy a case of anything at today's prices. There would have to be a very good prices cut like 2000 prices.

Today, I'm missing our chickens and quail. I bought two 10lb bags of leg quarters for a pretty good price under $7 each...even this spring. I could get it it for $4. That's how much price have gone up. You can't see me but I'm shaking my head in disgust. We even grew our own too. We could buy straight run chicks twice a year and butcher them. Twenty-five quails provided us with meat and eggs in an endless supply chain. But that was before on the acreage. I'm in the city now and those are impossible to do here. Quail possibly, but certainly not chickens, not roosters. Only for raising eggs for your household. That won't feed us meat for the table. At least not very long. Even stretching the daylights out of it, will this household of four maybe three meals.

 I brought my prized chicken leg quarters home. I had planned on vanning it bone-in and thought better of that. I put the chicken in the pressure canner with assorted herbs and seasoning. It only took 25 minutes to cook the chicken. I pulled the chicken out, pill the meat off the bones, and returned the bones back into the canner. These will cook another two hours under pressure for a mineral rich bone broth and I did add some bones from the freezer too.. The chicken meat will be jarred and canned as meat in a

broth base. Each jar holds roughly about a pound of meat. There'll be enough broth in each jar to make a gravy. Perfect for a casserole,  pot pie, BBQ chicken sliders or sandwiches. or chicken salad for our family. I also got six pounds of ground chuck to can up. Between the two, I should have a full canner load double stacked with refried pinto and black beans for a total load of nineteen meal protein options for us. That's another thing I didn't het that was on my list Navy Beans. I wanted to can a case of chili beans for our food stores too. My son-in-law loves my chili. I found an abundance of canning jars at the local Ace Hardware. They have both Ball and Pur (a Chinese offshoot). Last week. they had them 35% off so I snatched up some cases of half gallon and quart jars. In case you're interested, I chose the Ball brand. I usually buy American when I can. I do miss my free Amish store jars. Sigh!

Not a bad day's work, but now I'm beyond exhausted. My foot is propped up for now, waiting for the bone broth to finish in my small pressure canner. Just twenty more minutes until I can turn off the heat. I'll let it naturally pressure down while I sleep, and can it up tomorrow. There should be two gallons of rich bone broth in there or 6 pint jars in there and a steaming mug of enriched for me bone broth to start the day with for me. I only slept 14 hours today. That's better...somewhat

Nothing is impossible. 

Sunday Stroke Survival: Answers and Murphy's Law

In case you hadn't noticed, I've been MIA for the past few weeks. In my last post, I told you how I was exhausted and sleeping so much. I was too exhausted to type. I think I've found the issue but am at a loss of how to solve it.

No, I haven't gotten a PCP nor endocrinologist as yet. In desperation, I called my Medicare supplement company for a doctors list that would take my plan. They said they were five and I thought. "Fine, that's a good start." I rarely need my PCP anyhow. He/She would mainly be responsible for a clearing house for my other specialists and refill my allergy meds. I have this thing with my PCP, I usually won't bother you so don't bother me. I'll go in for my post hospital and semi annual checkups, but that's about it unless I need a referral to another specialist like an endocrinologist. I called several thyroid specialist here but they all require a local PCP referral even though I send them faxed records from my previous endo quite easily. GRRR! Murphy's Law hit #1

To compound the issue I received the list of PCPs and endos from my insurance company. Of the five they have listed only one has a contact phone number but a FL address. The other four are blank except the name. So being a computer savvy individual, I do a computer search and even broke out the phone book. you know that huge, paper book with white and yellow pages you get once a year. Nothing. There were no listing for these doctors anywhere! Well, poop! I think maybe they are part of a hospital physician's group that aren't listed singly unless you search their groups. So, I search the groups and still nothing.  So how are you supposed to find them? I thought of going to the AMA site but that's like finding a needle in a hay stack. I tried phoning the one doctor that I at least had a phone number for and was told by an automated voice there was troubled with the phone service to please try again later. ARGH!!! I tell you, I can't win for losing. Murphy's Law hit #2

So left to my own devices, I started researching the symptoms on the web. I'm so exhausted I'm sleeping 16 out of 24 hours a day. I had a cardiac stress test last week and drifted off twice in three hours during it. This is insane! Oh, and the stress test results were fine. So that rules out any cardiac causes for my exhaustion. Last week I stopped the two medicines that were raising my heart rates and blood pressure. They were causing my heart to race constantly even while sedately sitting in my chair for hours/ Even without these meds my blood pressure and rate rates are borderline high for to weeks now. The meds would make them higher. During my stress test my numbers got scary. After they stops the drug and everything should drop down to normal, my B/P but mine went up to 190/110! But, the staff didn't seem concerned. When I had my first stroke my B/P was only 185/98! I'll see my cardiologist Monday. I'll address these issues then. It seems my body has switched back into chronic high B/P and ventricular fib mode again. I'm beating my fist on the desk. Murphy's Law hit #3

In my research, one diagnosis kept coming up no matter which reputable site I went to...Hashimoto disease flare up, or acute hypothyroiditis. Treatment by an endocrinologist is highly recommended. Zing! Slaps my own forehead. Why didn't I think of that??!! Murphy's Law hit #4 

Isn't it grand to be in a Catch-22, or Murphy's Law circular trap? I should be well versed with Murphey's Law being a Murphey. The "e" stands for extra oomph. LOL One day, I'll sit up in heaven and laugh, but that's not today. Today, it just seems to be yet another impossible situation I've gotten myself into. I feel like this

But as y'all know...

Nothing is impossible.

Sunday Stroke Survival: Sleep Perchance to Dream

I've been extremely tired lately. Four hours of uninterrupted sleep has been the best I can manage. It's been strange but it's been my semi normal sleeping pattern for so long, anything else seems abnormal. Since moving to southeast GA again, I had extended periods of exhaustion. Granted my pain levels have creeped up a bit with the delay of getting botox and the stress of trying to replace doctors are added into the mix making the tiredness I'm feeling almost understandable. Almost.

This boggles my mind. Y'all know me. I'm the never ending cheer leader. The go-getter. The full steam ahead gal. And yet, it's all I can do to get out of bed some days. I texted the family that dinner was ready last night. My daughter came in and looked at me saying, "Ready for bed already?" I responded that I never got dressed in the first place. It was true. I'd thought about changing clothes, but instead after taking my second doses of pills at 11 AM, I had just crawled back into bed and slept until 3PM. I sat at my computer dozing after my third doses of medicines until it was time to take my bedtime meds at 11PM. I crawled into bed and slept until 5AM.

Sunday morning trying to stay awake again. I repeated Saturday's pattern of sleeping off and on. It's been a losing battle.  In fact, this has been going on for a month. This was going on for as long as my heart has been acting up. I saw my new cardiologist on Monday and he said it was unlikely that my fatigue was caused by my heart. Of course the fatigue could also be from the Hashimoto Disease, but without a PCP to order blood work or refer me to an endocrinologist, I'm pretty well stuck. Does the chronic fatigue that happened with my first stroke worsen over time? I never heard of it worsening.

Too many questions and issues to deal with, and not enough answers. Bu then again...

Nothing is impossible.

The Podiatrist's Visit

 I had my second podiatrist's appointment yesterday and I noticed something strange about him. He never sits down. There isn't even one of those roll around stools for him or staff in the treatment rooms.

Okay, so I get my toes clipped and smoothed with a roto-tool. No issues with that, but then came the shaving down of the callus which honestly, had become quite painful. The familiar knife twisting in the foot with every weight bearing step pain was back after only ten weeks.  For this procedure he raised the chair as far as it would go and tilted it back as far as it would go. I was in the position of almost doing a head stand. Not really, but it sure felt like it.  Even so, he had to bend his knees to see what he was doing with the scalpel. This was no short man. Later, standing beside him,  My head may have touched his arm pit and I'm five foot squat.

We talked about ways to reduce the callus permanently or at it not reaching this painful status between appointments. I was already doing the moisturizing massages every night. Finally he said a foot transplant. I guess it was a running joke between he and his other patients. But it got me thinking, what if it were possible?

Since the spasticity is caused by a short circuitry in the brain, wouldn't it also effect the new foot? Probably. Darn. So much for that fix. The options of ankle and foot reconstruction/fusion surgery is still on the table as is the amputation above the ankle/foot and prosthetic option. Both are extreme measures to keep me walking on my own two feet without pain and AFO so to speak. But is it too extreme? Or, should I go quietly into a wheelchair for the rest of my life?

Nothing is impossible.

Sunday Stroke Survival: Another Week Down

A dat late again .Sigh! It seems it's about all I can do anymore. But time eventually passes. I do keep myself busy to make the waiting go by faster and keep frustration at bay. My project that I've taken on is the family's food provisions. September is Preparedness Month. Actually, I started this project in June.

This house has a 20'x25' pantry with two upright, 27 cu ft freezers plus an additional refrigerator/freezer in it. It was almost bare. I've having fun trying to fill it. I've laid in a couple months of paper goods like paper towels, napkins, and toilet paper. But things like Tampax, menstrual pads, urinary pads, and adults diapers are also stockpiled. Once again, couponing has saved my bank account as I squeeze pennies into dimes. In  fact the $5.00 a week I spend on Sunday papers (2) more than pays or itself in savings. A lot of weeks, I'm buying about $500+ of products for at most $75. My goal is not years or decades, but are least six months with to start with. I've reached my goal in laundry supplies and most of the nonfood goals.

I'm not ignoring the food stock either. Slowly, I've been getting this big city family's going out every other night to grab something to eat, or just buy what they need for a couple of meals at a time to a more home based eating routine. It's been difficult converting them over even with the COVID mess last year. Gone are the half eaten takeout containers to be replaced by real food. Granted some are leftover real food foe them to take for "lunches." It's so much better for them too. I'm not stuck cooking every night either, it's only 3 or 4 meals a week plus the stockpile.

For the stockpiling of food stuff, I'm consolidating what's here by looking before shopping. When I first got here and started cooking. I'd find three or four opened containers of the same thing plus two or three unopened containers in different cabinets and in the two kitchens (2 fully equipped kitchens and a partial outdoor one. Plus a small "snacks" one in the bar area). I wasn't really being nosy, but really?!  I'd be cooling or planning a meal and ask my daughter if she had a certain ingredient and she'd answer, "yeah, somewhere." Then, began a mad rush to find it. I found ingredients everywhere. I reorganized, consolidated, and redistributed all the food prep areas, It was back the way my son in law's grandmother had it. There had been too many cooks in the kitchen since she initially organized it. This also went a long way in filling up the master storeroom too.  I could see what we had and what to buy. It was much easier to keep inventory too. My inventory guidelines are simple. Open one, buy one once you've hit a baseline. To reach your baseline, it's need one buy two or three.

As far as food stuffs I've put by so far, I've canned 6 months worth of pickles, kimchi, sauerkraut, French fries, hash browns (cottage fries), diced onions (dehydrated), garlic (dehydrated), ginger (dehydrated), and assorted commercially canned vegetables. What is lacking is meat. I still haven't found a cheaper alternative to the higher priced grocery option. Meat prices get higher and higher as weeks go by. Although I did lay in about 3 months of mylar packaged, commercial tuna from a killer sale (sale price - coupons=free) . If I'd had more coupons. I would have gone back got more. So the pantry isn't looking so bare anymore. It's a quarter of the way filled. Not too shoddy in a three month time frame. 

In case you were wondering, my cost of this stockpile was $581 (I budgeted $600 for groceries each month/$320 a month for household) out of $2,641 for grand total of a 80% savings. You can't tell me that combining sales and coupons doesn't work. And, none of the coupons were doubled, only stacked between rewards, rebate offers, store and manufacturer coupons. Total time spent compiling data necessary to do the deals about ten hours a week. Thank God for the internet and other crafty folks out there! Average number of stores visited and time spent shopping, about 2-3 stores and two hours a week in stores. I'm not a die hard couponer who goes to ten stores to get the deals, or buys unneeded stiff because I can get it for free, and hopefully resell or donate it. I probably would have saved more. LOL Remember, I'm a firm believer in...work smarter, not harder.

Nothing is impossible.

Sunday Stroke Survival: Breathing a Bit Easier

 Sigh! Better late than never.

The past two weeks, I've had a difficulty breathing. Yes, all that extra fluid from my ill heart finally hit my lungs. I knew it was happening and knew it would without a cardiologist's help. Lasix in high doses can be a scary thing, even for me. My wheezing got so bad, I could barely manage ten steps to the bathroom without getting raspy breaths let alone back to my seat again. I hit my inhaler so often I barely needed the drugs to raise my heart rate. My inhaler is albuterol so it raised my heart rate and blood pressure. Yes, it was that bad.

I've finally got a local cardiologist!!! Or, will have after the 13th. I just have to hold out until then. What was really shocking to me was my weight gain. Now knowing I have a heart issue, I weigh myself every morning. For me, it's the best indicator of how much of a fluid load I'm carrying. I went to my late afternoon neurology appointment and as part of my check in I got on the scale. I can usually count on a 1-5lb variance between my at home scale and any doctor's office scale. But the reading showed as 15lbs higher!! There was no way I could have gained 10lbs in less than 12 hours. This was fluid weight. My feet were puffy and my middle was muffin topped over my jeans. No wonder I was huffing and puffing over the walk to the treatment room, several hundred feet. When listening with a stethoscope my lower lungs sounded wet like I'm going into CHF (congestive heart failure).

With my midodrine and metotoprol taken early in the AM by the appointment time, my heart rate and BP was in normal limits, 72 & 124/80. Imagine what it would be without the drugs and the walking. So when I got home, I doubled my old dose of Lasix to 40 mg and spent the next 8 hours peeing every 10-20 minutes urinating. The next morning, I held off the Lasix until noon because that's when the weight piled on from fluid back up began. It was after I started my daily routine and I was up on my feet more. Sure enough, my wright was up 5lbs heavier than my first rising weight. By 1PM, my weight was up  7lbs when I took my 40mg of Lasix again. My side note was that I noticed my affected foot's shoe began feeling tight. I'd found an important indicator to the fluid build up. 

After looking at the situation realistically, I bought diapers to see me through until my cardiologist's appointment.  You see I don't know how to juggle my meds any more than I've done so far. I may need some other medical intervention like a pacemaker or a total change in medications. Both of those take a doctor. Since my bladder sling tore, my urge to urinate and actually going is about 30 seconds. It's no longer a small to medium gush of urine, easily handled by a pad. But with the Lasix, it's a GUSH that lasts several seconds and repeats with every step until I reach the commode. Think of turning on the tap full force for a 5-second increments. Even having 20 pair of panties and pads can't keep up with the flows with the Lasix. Even with a diaper, pants or shorts are left in the drawer for at least the first four hours after taking the Lasix. It's just one more thin between my backside and the commode and every second counts...even diapers have their limits. I have thought about upping my dose to 60mg of Lasix but I'm not comfortable with that without medical supervision, I'd bought a 90-day prescription the week my old cardiologist changed my dose to as needed so I have plenty.

I've been watching the flooding with Hurricane Ida, I've been going through the similar battle with my body. I hope the cardiologist has an answer I can live with...anything less than a transplant and open heart surgery. This is where I draw the line and refuse. But at least now they know what causes my v-fib and cardiac arrest during surgery...a drug allergy to propofol, an anesthesia med. Sharp, good work Emory team for the diagnosis! It was traced back to my egg yolk allergy. How's that for great detective work?

For now, I'm breathing easier and moving again. I caught russet potatoes on sale this week so I canned up some more French fries and some great waxy, baby potatoes to can whole. Every little bit counts.

Nothing is impossible. 

Sunday Stroke Survival: I Am Okay with Dying

 You know it's strange the thoughts that filter through your brain just before falling asleep at night. Sleep for more than a few hours is impossible right now. I'm fighting the painful the cramping of spastic muscles. Come on Tuesday plus a week for Botox to kick in. 

This was the case tonight. I slept for two hours. But as I fell asleep the thought struck me that it was okay if I died. Upon awakening, the thought hung with me and I decided to explore just why I took such comfort in that thought. I was really at peace with it. I mean, sure, I was  awake anyhow. I was in pain, but at three AM I wasn't about to take a pain medicine that would knock six hours and leave me hungover for ten.  I have a low tolerance for pain meds. I decided to gets up and put my arm sling back on. It did nothing for the cramping, but the additional support helped ease the effects of gravity. Putting on my AFO was a feat worthy of a circus contortionist because my big toe goes upward and the rest curled under as my foot strained downward and inward in the cramping position. Massaging the arch of my foot and my Achilles' tendon helped expedite the process some. It's more like feat in perfect timing than actually relaxing the foot to get my affected foot into the 90° orthotic when my foot and ankle are like this. But I manage.

I hobble to my computer by way of the refrigerator for a drink. The Velcro crackles as it fights against the muscles trying to pull my foot out of position as I walk. I finally plop down in the chair and the spasm relaxes a bit as I take the load bearing duties off my affected leg. Three more hours until I can take my next dose of muscle relaxers. The cranberry juice and tonic water will help some too.

<I'm wearing my "This is NOT the life I ordered" t-shirt as a night shirt.>No, I'm not on the pity pot. I'm just telling it like it is in my living post stroke life.

I'm in my rational/analytical thinking cap. Back to the thought in question. Why had that thought about it being okay to die bring me comfort? Most people would be terrified or fighting against the thought of dying. But that isn't the case with me. It may not been the life I ordered, but I've made the most of it.

• I know what awaits me...heaven. I have no doubts in my mind of that outcome.
• I've lived a full life with no bucket list of unfulfilled desires. I've never believed in a bucket list. I've lived my life fulfilling my desires short of a full recovery from my strokes. With the birth of great-grandchildren, it completed my parenting journey. My adult children and half of my grandchildren are set, and a firm groundwork has been laid for the rest.
• I'll be with my beloved again. This is my greatest wish. I feel we were short changed in our lives together. We only had 25 years, but there should have been so much more and eternity sounds great...that might be enough time together. I miss him terribly with each passing year.
• I'm ready to die. No, I'm not suicidal just tired. I've had more ups and downs on this roller coaster life than most folks more older. And yet, I'm thankful for the growing experience each has taught me along the way. I've been rode hard and put up wet in my stall too many times. 
• I feel like I'm just biding time. I'm still doing because I'm still breathing. My life is completed.

I feel I'm blessed by this realization. It's satisfying to have a sense of completeness and accomplishment. 

Nothing is impossible.

Sunday Stroke Survival: Waiting and Combating Frustration

Better late than never.

I know I'm not the only one that combats frustration while in a holding pattern. I haven't written here or anywhere else in a couple of weeks because of it. For me, it's doctors, or should I say getting new doctors in my new locale. I mean all of my old docs treated me like I was going to die instantly if I didn't do this or that immediately. And yet, it's been three months since I've seen a doctor an I'm still here. So much for being a sick, dying, old woman. 🤣   Now, that's not necessarily true. I am a sick, dying, old woman who has a complicated medical history. I just haven't had some doctors tell me so in months.

The stress it could cause not only frustration, but anger, grief, depression and a whole lot of harmful baggage nobody needs. It is like a weighted blanket, not the good kind like PTSD patients use. These other issues can eat you alive, hamper recovery, and cause actual damage to your body.

So how do I beat it? Or, at least not let the frustration beat me up and consume me? I often say that it's all a matter of perception and mind over matter. Your brain is a powerful a part of your body. Even a damaged one like for us stroke survivors or should I say, dead gray matter. In a lot of ways, we're better than everyone else because we've beaten the odds and we survived the game of life's roulette table and we're on our way back or getting a do-over. Although, it doesn't feel like that sometimes. But, life is what it is and all you can do is make what you can of it. If you aren't happy about somethings in your life figure out what you can do to change.

Keeping mentally and physically active starve frustration. By being active, you don't dwell on the problem feeding the frustration. So what am I doing? 

For the mental half, I printed a list of all the cardiologists and PCPs in the area. I run the list by my daughter, she has lived in this town for 17 years, half of which working in the medical field.  At the very least, she knows who the real stinkers are. This information is worth its weight in gold and those names are stricken from the list. It narrows down the list considerably. Then, I'll let my fingers do the walking. I'll give each practice three working days to respond and then move to the next name. When I gave my daughter my list I had her rate the doctors by stars three stars meant the practice was the ultimate and no stars meant they were passable. If she knew nothing about them, they got a question mark. I have to say there weren't many of these. So far, I'm slowly making my way down each list. I'll play computer games to rebuild and strengthen weakened areas of my brain, or watch a movie on Netflix, Amazon Prime, Disney. or YouTube. But, I'm doing something with my mind other than feeding my frustration.

I'm in a Catch-22 situation as far as the physical side of the equation. To walk and do I need adjustments made to my AFO. To get an appointment to an orthotics place (Hanger or another of 4 options), I need a PCP because my podiatrist is just  a DO not a MD that insurances demand. I need dry needling or Botox to make the spasticity in my foot and ankle behave which would help in the meantime. That isn't possible until after the 24th when I see my new neurologist (another waiting game). 

My brace not fitting right allows me to stand and walk in twenty-minute increments. So I'll sweep my apartment and sit down with my foot elevates above my heart for an hour. Then, mop my wood floors and back down again. And, so goes my days. By 11 PM, I'm exhausted by the up and downs, and I'm ready for sleep. At 5 AM, I'm back at it again. By the time the sun is high enough in the sky, I'm puttering around pilling this or that weed, talking to the plants, and communing with God, I'm still keeping my twenty-minute on and off my AFO clad foot. During the lull, I've got my phone app tuned to His radio and I'm praising Him the whole time I'm off my foot sitting on my outside door steps. I tend to push my limits when cooking or preserving. Especially, with the final touches. I pay for it by having to prop my foot up for the next several hours.  The dishes don't get done nor food put away until I've gotten the swelling and pain down. I'll be good for twenty minutes or so before I'm back in the chair. I'm really missing my wheelchair or beloved's rollator because I could sit and do. They got left in the barn during the move and we haven't had a chance to go back and get them yet. Mel is still holding onto them for me. 

But for now, I'm doing without. I think Medicare part B would pay to replace the wheelchair. It was bought 9 years ago not under Medicare. The rollator was my husband's as the shower chair, and bed side commode was too. so my Medicare should pat to replace them, shouldn't they? That leaves me with the problem of who writes they prescription to order them? I'll see the neurologist later this month and I guess I could talk to them when I ask for a PT order. Or, does PT order them? Or, does my PCP, if and when I find one? It was so much easier when I was in the hospital before I was discharged home after my first stroke. Sigh! 

Breathe, Jo, breathe. This kind of thinking is a trap to fall back into frustration. Okay, it's time to get busy. I couldn't manage to do the dinner ,dishes last night. Everything was rinsed off and stacked so they are ready to be washed up and then there's a peach cobbler to make for dessert tonight. That will keep me busy until the rain stops. tuning in the app on my phone. Here we go, another day's work begins...

Nothing is impossible.

Sunday Stroke Survival: Being Paid for Waiting

 Do you ever wish you could be paid for waiting on doctors? I sure do. No, I'm not a doctor nor play one on TV. A doctor thinks nothing about agony he/she causes while awaiting decisions being made or even having you wait in their offices for hours past your appointment times. You have nothing better to do, right?

My old cardiologist's office called me after they faxed their notes to my prospected cardiologist's office. That was four weeks ago. I've had a minor bout of congestive heart failure as 25 lbs of fluid squeezed my heart and lungs. It's a good thing I didn't throw away my Lasix after my doctor discontinued it. It's also lucky I remembered how to balance my electrolytes with that great of a fluid loss over the next three days and continue doing it while I'm waiting to get their approval for me to be their patient. I could push the matter and just go to the hospital and take pot luck of the thirty cardiologist in town. Knowing my luck, I'd get Dr. Iamgodnknowit whose the worst in town.

That goes for my choice for PCP, Endocrinologist, ENT, and Allergist too. What is wrong with these people? Is my money not good enough for them? In Cornelia, doctors said they weren't accepting new patients which is understandable. There are only 15-minute spots available in a week. Granted, my medical history is a nightmare, but don't they have student loans, huge mortgages, country club dues, and alimonies to pay? If my medical history is too much for them to feel comfortable with, tell me so I can look elsewhere. After all, I got nothing better to do than wait on them. I don't have a life worth living.

I am trying to live my life post stroke to the fullest. I've got a garden to create, a family to grocery shop and cook for, and I can think of half a dozen things I'd rather be doing instead of this waiting around. Of course, I'm doing most of those things now while waiting on them but my frustration levels are high.

This too shall pass. Breathe. And Repeat.

Nothing is impossible.

Sunday Stroke Survival: Decision Making Process Post Stroke

 Some cognitive decline is expected after a stroke. While I had little difficulty with prioritizing tasks that need to be done. When faced with tasks that need to be done while my foot and AFO impairs me is a different story. It just takes one more thing to upset the apple cart, now I have two- healing broken bones and increased spasticity. 

I know before getting up I have to put my AFO on first or I'll fall with the first step I take with my affected leg. The spasticity has gotten really bad since I was unable to get my scheduled round of Botox injections in June. My foot arches downward and inward. You'd think I'd be able to walk on my tip toes, wouldn't you? But no, the inward rotation increases with weight bearing so it would be foolhardy to do so because the foot would roll farther inward. Not to mention when it does a hard spasm on top of the spasticity the shoe and brace have to come off or more bones will break. There's no denying the spasms nor controlling them. Unfortunately, it will get worse before I can get into the neurologist for my injections. 

After I prepare dinner each night, I usually get a hard spasm in my foot and ankle. Most of the times, my daughter (unless she's working late) will come in and put the finishing touches and serve the plate while I'll painfully hobble to my chair, take off my shoe, and AFO, massage and prop my foot up. It's that last half an hour of standing and moving that gets me. It's now to the point of almost an hour before I can don my brace and walk again albeit with a manageable amount of pain, instead of two hours of spasms like it will be. I can at least get to the bathroom and back again. This is how I'm managing my day now. Fifteen to twenty-five minutes of activity to an hour rest, but I am doing. I can no longer wear my new AFO with the spasticity so high. I'm stuck in my old AFO that allows for the swelling and the spasticity, and the straps need to be replaced. Come on PCP so I can get an appointment with a brace maker!

Wednesday night, I was just finishing up dinner when a spasm hit as usual. Nothing spectacular, just my butter fried chicken (my mother's recipe), boiled potatoes with herbed butter and corn on the cob. I called for my daughter to help. She drained the potatoes and tossed them in the herbed butter. She prepared the plates and brought me one at my dining room dinette before taking two plates to her husband and her into the main dining room of the house. I do so miss eating at the big table  with family. It'll be better when my granddaughter comes home from the west coast next month. She's my cook's helper. She's becoming quite a cook.

About an hour later, the rain started. The skylight in the kitchen started dripping. I hadn't put the pitcher down before because it wasn't raining. I shrugged off the sweater I'd donned. I'm just not used to air conditioning anymore. My daughter keeps the thermostat at 68℉ which is a little chilly to me since my blood pressure and pulse rate took a nose dive after my Baclofen removal surgery in 2019. That's even with the meds to raise both. *I digressed, sorry* I donned my AFO and headed to the kitchen. The pain was manageable as I hobbled across the distance. I grabbed a couple of paper towels to wipe up the water and placed the pitcher on the floor to catch additional drips. Come on two days in a row without rain so my son-in-law can recaulk the skylight and have it cure!

Of course with the dripping sound of water, the urge to pee hit me. There was no way I'd make the thirty odd steps to the bathroom. I'd just have to gush into my pad. Then, I noticed that my daughter had not put the extra fried chicken away. A quick reach under the sink to get a container so I could make chicken salad for the kids' trip out of town. I had bought croissants for the sandwiches. Just the thought of buying them still irks me, but some things just have the wait until I'm back up on my feet again. The gush had bought me some time. Another gush on the way and I was sitting on the commode.

Relieved, I hobbled back into the kitchen to run a sink of washing water in the sink. I was putting the last dirty pot in the sink when a twinge just above the ankle told me it was time to take a load off so I grabbed what little bit of trash there was to throw it in the trash can as I went. I hobbled back to my chair. The dishes would wait until the morning. I'd noticed that my bathroom trashcan was full but I'd save that chore the next time I'm up and so it goes. It's a good thing I can see a sequence of events when needed/

Prioritizing tasks has been my blessing living post stroke. It doesn't always go as smoothly as this, I wish it did. There are still times, after nine years of living post stroke, I forget to don my AFO first before getting up. All it takes is standing up to realize my mistake. Luckily, I haven't fallen in my hast of having to pee. Or, have to back track to get things done. It is what it is.

In other matters, I started a new blog. It's focus is on senior living self reliance and how tos from a disabled view point. I'll eventually start a YouTube channel along the same lines. Just because you are older, single, disabled, and living the senior living community life style doesn't mean you can't help yourself along the way. You ain't dead yet! You can find it here.

Nothing is impossible.