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Complaint: Day two, full-blown Migrine
I hurt for you. I would steep you a double-bag cup of chamomile tea, turn lights mostly off, and kill all leaf/snow-blowers in your neighborhood to protect your sanity. (They always show up when I am ill. Always.)
Mary
I went to Tmobile and got my bill printed. I want to show it to the deacons at church Sunday to see if they can help me get caught up.
Now to go to 7-11 to get a drink then go home and eat lunch. Afterwards work on my room.
Hoping you feel better soon .
Commiserations: "Oh, the pain, the pain!"
So I've been thinking ,talked to my oldest daughter last night and she explained in a way I understood why the doctors aren't wanting to put me to sleep ,but I'd like to know if anyone else ,when doctors talk to you here "WHA WA WA WHA WHA WA " like adult speak from the Charlie Brown movies/cartoons.....or is it just me no matter how hard I try to listen ,and I don't consider myself a dumb person ,but I frequently don't understand .
The church won't help.
Complaint: Today's mini-adventure was a trip to the hospital for a couple of medical scans scheduled at 1:00PM. Inconvenient time for me, but that's the schedule they had available.
Weather this morning was not delightful, rain, rain, rain. Got up 6:30AM to get ready for the only bus out of town at 8:00AM. Bus came on time, but since I was so early for my appointment I figured I'd have a proper breakfast at a many decades long popular restaurant in the center of the city, closer to the hospital, and if possible do some early morning wandering/shopping in the city center, maybe even a visit to the National Comedy Center just two blocks from the restaurant. I'd checked the restaurant's website before I went and it said open every morning. Yay! The bus let me off at the restaurant at about 8:20AM, I walk to the door and pull the handle and nearly break my wrist.
It's locked, they're closed. Sign on the door says "Now, closed Wednesdays." It's raining cats & dogs, the bus is gone, I'm standing under an awning trying to stay dry. But having been a good Boy Scout, I'm prepared. I have my waxed leather cowboy hat, and leather jacket on, and am somewhat waterproof. So, I started thinking about "what now?" A couple stores up was an open business, I dropped in and asked if there were any other restaurants open for breakfast within a block or two radius. He suggest one "up the hill", but then I got back out on the street and realized that downtown Jamestown, NY is like a miniature downtown San Francisco, CA, hills, steep hills. I don't do well with hills, especially going up.
So instead, I decided to slog through the rain down the hill two blocks to the Tim Horton's that I knew was there. I get to TIm Hortons, stand in line about 10 minutes, order my food, stick the four dollar bills of change into my pocket, food comes, I sit down, prepare everything to start eating, and I get a freakin' bloody nose.
. So, now I'm sitting in Tim Hortons dripping blood onto my jeans, shirt, arm, and the floor for a microsecond. I quickly reach into my pocket for emergency paper towels that I keep handy, and press it against my nose and hold it for a while until I get my wits about me again, and realize that I'm holding my four dollar bills on my face.
I can't just leave my leather jacket, cell phone, purchased food, bag of takeout donuts & muffin on the table while I go to the restroom for 15 minutes, so I just sit there trying to be inconspicuous. By this time I've fumbled around and gotten the correct paper towels onto my nose and the bloody dollar bills into my pocket, and just sit quietly for fifteen minutes doing nothing but holding my nose. Finally I feel confident that it's safe to gather my belongings while still holding my nose, and attempt going to the restroom to finish up. (Thankfully, I was carrying a cloth grocery shopping bag and all my stuff was able to be fit into it) Of course the restroom at Tim Hortons is locked (of course it is)
. I go ask the servers for the key. Finally, I'm alone and start the process of cleaning up (messy, messy, messy). And yes, I washed both the sink and toilet clean. Now, still being careful of breaking my nose loose again I carefully eat my now cold breakfast. Yay!
OK, day not starting out well. By now, it's 9:00AM. So instead of browsing downtown Jamestown, and because it's now raining cats, dogs, and hogs. I decided to just go to the hospital and wait 4 hours until my appointments. There's always something fun to do at the hospital.
I call an Uber to take me to the hospital, the driver was right there in the drive-thru lane at Tim Horton's, but her navigation device told her to go around the block, confusion set in, she got lost, but eventually, I texted her through the Uber app, and told her that I was at the entrance of the Tim Horton's. It's now raining cats, dogs, hogs, and other barnyard animals, the streets and parking lots are filling up into rivers & lakes. But eventually I get in, but when I get in, she says to me "Enter your PIN number". What? PIN number? What pin number? I don't have a pin number for Uber, at least I don't think I do. She replies "I need your PIN number or the app is going to cancel your ride." ARGHHHH, why do I need a PIN number. I guessed a number. It was wrong. I guessed a second number. It was wrong. I had one more chance, and guessed a third and it worked! Glory be! OK, I got to the hospital, and the day started getting better.
Non-Complaint: I checked in at the hospital front desk, they put me in a wheelchair and pushed me to the other building for the tests. Remember I'm checking in three and half hours early now. I was prepared to wait, but within 10 minutes they called me for my first appointment. Afterwards I waited in the waiting room again and the nurse even brought me a hot cup of coffee, and after another 10 minutes I was called for the 2nd appointment, before I'd even finished my coffee. All tests done and I was home by 11:00AM.
And it's still raining a barnyard zoo.
FYI: Blood comes out of US currency easier than it does shirts & jeans.
And now I have laundered blood money drying in my bathroom.
WOW!!! That's the kind of day that I crawl back in bed for a do-over !!
And to start the morning off right: Just after I'd gotten my morning ablutions done, it was 7:00AM and I hear a loud knock on my door. Nobody, comes to my door. If it wasn't for me paying my rent nobody would know I exist. But there was a knock on my door. Thankfully, I was dressed already, and was able to carry off a polite conversation with the two policemen
at my door. Asking about a previous tenant of the building. I should have taken that as a portent of what was going to happen for the rest of the day.
Okay definitely a start over day ,in my opinion ,and you've lived there how long?
I doubt very many will recognize this quote! Warning!
Eighteen years. I'm not a very gregarious neighbor. The tenant being asked about was from the time when the house was surrounded by the SWAT team hiding behind their vehicles, guns drawn, with bull-horns blaring, calling for my neighbor to "come out!". Fond memories.
Some doctors are not good at speaking to patients, whether because they feel the need to look impressive for ego reasons or because they're just not good at translating med-speak into something non-medical folk can understand. (And also remembering that under a lot of circumstances, it's really hard for the brain to process things like choices when it's locked in on and frozen at undesirable diagnosis.)
When I was going rhrough nursing school, it was absolutely drilled into our heads that we needed to not talk down to our patients, but to talk comprehensibly to them, AND to check in to make sure the doctors hadn't left them at sea.
Depending on the facility you're at and what their resources are, there might be a patient advocate available, and you can bring your concerns to them and hopefully get some help.
Major Non-Complaint: Tests from my scans from this morning came in. No suspicious masses or shadowings. All tests benign, but need continued observation in the future. Good news for now.
It's absolutely bonkers how much incorrect location info is out there. For example, my ex- has not set foot in this house since 2019, but whitepages.com and other such directories will state with authority that this is his current address and phone number, I still get collections notices mailed here for a credit card (only in his name) he decided not to pay off, I got a notice from a towing agency/impound lot that they had his car (had been "abandoned blocking traffic" -- interestingly, he didn't have a license at the time) because this address was still on the title, a ticket from that whole esapade showed up here as well from the government (I assume for the same reason) and then notice of collections for THAT...
Some internet sleuthing and I happen to know that he got remarried (to a family therapist who lost primary custody of her own kids, pretty sure they're a match made in h-e-double-hockey-sticks), changed his name, and moved in with her into the townhouse she's renting. So his name's not on anything, but oddly enough he's not that hard to find. Folk just don't bother verifying the surface level stuff.
(And heck, I still get advertisements for the guy who lived in this house before me, who did business with these companies at some point. He hasn't lived here in 21 years. You'd think they'd give up and cut their losses at some point...)
I would have just shut the door. There is no obligation to answer their questions? I talked to the police last time through my doorbell cam. I never leave my house, never a reason to knock on my door. Everything is delivered. The only time I leave the house is to go to the Aliens with the title Doctor.
This! I was thinking of this last night. You need an advocate or at least someone on your side to sit with you during apointments to take notes, and make sure your questions are answered clearly. And nurses, be they RNs, PAs, are the best to talk to about worries. I love them.
Though most of my doctors with UC Health have been great. But when I was pregnant, the military doctor was dreadful. Treated us like we were cows headed to slaughter. Thankfully I had midwives and medics at the delivery of my son.
A few months after I had bought my house in 2000, I had that knock on the door. The previous owner was wanted for something. After I showed them my military ID, drivers license, purchase paperwork for the house, they realized I was not the woman they wanted. I then volunteered they might check out her other house she had been trying to sell, that had been hers before her father had died and she had moved into the one I had bought. I didn't know the address, but could describe it, its location, and the three different fences in the backyard. They realized they knew it right away. Apparently she was notorious there too. Or her teenage daughter who captured pets and practiced taxidermy. They made the Adams Family look like the Partridge Family.
Yeah, found the bodies, the fumes from that room almost killed me when I was painting it.
The neighbors were extremely happy I bought the house.
Hehehhahah the only time I've had cops at my door was back in 2006 ,they were looking for my ex,who had already been arrested and transfered out of state ,luckily I had kept his letters begging me to send him money or let him come "home",the officers were polite but did insist on looking around ......fun times .....
The only time I had the cops knock at my door, they'd been sent on a well-check. My then-still-husband had sent a mostly gibberish email to his boss on Christmas night saying he was having a stroke so he was going to take an aspirin and go lie down and wouldn't be in to work the next day as scheduled.
Sadly, he wasn't dead. Incredibly hung over, but not dead. Not showing any signs of the stroke he told the officer he'd had. His third, he claimed. News to me. He refused medical transport and locked himself back in his man-cave. The officer and I stood there awkwardly a moment. Officer told me to keep an eye on him (more than my backside was worth to knock on that door, thanks) and left.
(Shocking no one but my now-ex, less than a month later he was unemployed. Again. Thank goodness for Medicaid... Little Dude arrived less than two months later.)
We had cops here once looking for neighborly info about the guy next door who blew up his upstairs bathroom cooking meth.
And there was the time they came to arrest my then-husband. Long story. He's an ex- now.
Complaint: Headache to a smaller roar than yesterday. I kept looking for that little fellow on my shoulder with a sledgehammer. I haven't had a haircut in months, so he must be hiding some near the back when I look.
Non-Complaint: Tuna Fire: My food preparation for the next few days involved making up a box of "Tuna Helper". You know, that box of pasta and packet of dried mystery sauce & seasoning, that you mix with a couple cans of tuna some milk, butter, and water. Dull as dishwater. I usually make it a tad more exciting by adding a small can of stems & pieces of mushroom, and sprinkling it with some black pepper. Meh, better, but I've become jaded by the banality of it. So today I didn't add black pepper but while scrounging around in the refrigerator I found a two month old half of a jalapeno pepper that had dried out. A quick survey revealed no mold (I'd cut off both ends so that it actually would dry out in the refrigerator
). I minced up half of that and stirred it into the boiling sauce. Whoo-Eeee! 
Not banal anymore. Curled my nose hairs. That's-a-spicey-tuna.
I think it is timecto start working on my websites and stop delaying and procrastinating.
i found a Wordpress app I can use on my iPad to work on one site,
I totally get what you are saying... lots of doctors are awful at communicating with patients... there are many factors involved in how this manifests, but most of them either just speak without thinking whether or not the patient is following them, or talk like the patient is a total idiot. I have a couple of friends who are doctors and they agree that many of their colleagues are just not good communicators... they've complained that even in personal life those individuals tend not to listen well or just talk over people... others they feel are just overworked... few doctors have private practices anymore and once you start to work for a healthcare company many end up being required to see more patients than they can keep up with and fall into a pattern of just trying to tell the patient what's going on and what they feel needs to be done, so they can move on to the next patient. I've seen great doctors just plain old burn out because of this... It's probably not you but the doctor... Never feel awkward about asking questions or making them explain something better... it's your health and you need make sure they are doing and explaining everything in a way that helps you best. One of the simplest things that can often change what they are saying or create a more thoughtful communication experience is asking "What would you do if you were experiencing this problem"... it's weird, but I've seen doctors actually add new ideas or more thoughtfully go over stuff with this simple question.