Chronic Pain Lifestyle

Pain Pumps & Me Part 8

Pain Pumps & Me Part 8

    It seems to me that it’s been a very long time since I wrote the Pain Pumps & Me series and published it here. I truly thought that my pump was working properly, my medications had been straightened out, and all was well with my world. Well, I was wrong again.

   The pain has continued to get worse and I am wondering just how much more this mortal body can take. I called my pump nurse and told her my sad tale. She was well aware of my plight because I had already discussed it with her at my last refill. She talked to the doctor and got back with me. The message was to increase two of my medications and see what happens. All that happened was my side effects got worse along with more pain. 

    The next step was to see the doctor. My appointment was scheduled at 9:00 but we didn’t get to see him until 12:30 but it was worth the wait because he took the time to answer questions I had about the pump. Questions such as do pumps that use only Baclofen (a muscle relaxer) get granulomas? Yes they do. What causes granulomas? They appear to be dose related or concentration related so it is better to use the least amount of medication as possible. He prescribed Neurontin for me to take until my next visit in three weeks. I tried but it simply has too many side effects for me to continue to take it. Neurontin, Lyrica, and Cymbalta are all FDA approved for diabetic neuropathy pain and are often used off-label for neuropathy caused by other diseases. I am diabetic and all three of these medications do help me but those side effects can make the cure as bad or worse than the pain they are meant to relieve.

    I went back to see the pain doctor earlier this week. I had no idea what to do about this whole fiasco. The pain is still so bad and I know I’m just about to the safe ceiling limit for intrathecal medications. After another long wait he finally comes into the exam room and makes himself comfortable. (This is a good sign.) He asks about the Neurontin and I tell him that it works on the pain but the side effects are very bad. He said that in that case the Neurontin did not work. I asked why and was told that any medication that works but has side effects so bad you don’t want to continue it, does not work. Then he said it is time we check out the catheter to make sure it doesn’t have a leak or scar tissue enclosing it or one of several other things that can go wrong with one. I’ve had this catheter for 16+ years and that’s a very long time. Even though I got a new pump last year we didn’t change the catheter out because of my spinal disease, Adhesive Arachnoiditis.

    The process to check out the catheter is simple. The medication is removed from it and a dye is injected into the catheter itself, not the pump. Then they use an x-ray method called a fluoroscope to watch where the dye goes. I do have a leak and a couple other problems. I’m not getting my medications where I need them and I’m not getting the full dose due to the leakage. The scheduling office will call me with a surgery date to replace the catheter. I hope it is very soon.

    It’s hard to describe how I feel just knowing that there is once again hope for getting much better pain control. Until then I’ll continue to hobble along while trying to do my best. At this moment my best is to go have a bowl of oatmeal.

Wanda

The Gospel According to Granddad

Hi,

I found this funny and it is a real story, not a joke though it could sound like one. Having raised three boys I can understand how the mix up happened. We have grandkids now and I've learned this little boy is right. The gospel of grandpa reigns supreme.

I wish you all a good, low pain life.

Wanda

"I have a son who will be five in June, and it is a constant adventure. For example, on Sunday, we went to a local wildlife preserve with some friends, and it is about a 40 minute drive from the city, so we made sure everybody used the bathroom before we left. We pulled into the parking lot, at which point my 23 month old daughter became carsick, and so I was distracted. As soon as we stopped the van, my son leaped out the door, ran to edge of a small ditch, and dropped his trousers to relieve himself. We were busy cleaning up the mess in the backseat, so we didn't say too much about it. So we carried on our walk through the preserve, and as we reached the entrance gate again, where the washrooms were, we asked who needed to go, and he informed me that he didn't need the toilet. Those were his exact words, and, in retrospect, I should have paid more attention to them. We got back to the van and started to put the little ones in their carseats, when he ran up to the top of the hill overlooking the parking lot, and in front of about twenty highly amused spectators, dropped his trousers once again!  He looked like a fountain statue. I, of course, strongly protested, saying "You just told me you didn't need to use the toilet!" He then proceeded to inform me that it was okay because we were outside, so it was just like camping, and “boys don't need toilets when they're camping, Mummy! Granddad said so!” It can be hard to argue with the gospel according to Granddad!”

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My Curtain Of Memory

Hi Dear Friend,

Below is an article I wrote today. I’d like to know if it is OK this way. What I mean is does it get the message across that God can take someone in as bad of a physical shape as I’m in and use me again? That’s how I mean it. How I learned to play the piano, why I only play one way, why I had to quit, the bitterness of that and now I’m playing again on a limited but much needed basis. Maybe the whole post should be trashed and just use what I told you here. You know how women like to talk!! Get back with me because I won’t post it until you do.

Thanks,

Wanda

MY CURTAIN OF MEMORY

   One of my favorite gospel songs has a phrase that says, “roll back the curtain of memory now and then…” Today I am doing just that, rolling back the curtain of memory about my years of playing the piano.

    We lived a country next door to my father’s parents who were farmers. My parents were “city workers” so I spent a lot of time at my grandparents. I learned lots of things there including how to play the piano. My grandmother played by ear and could read shaped notes. She couldn’t read round notes. I don’t know how old I was when I started trying to play what I’d hear her play but I got fairly good at it.

   The problem with that still haunts me today. Even though I took years of piano lessons and forced myself to learn to play some very simple pieces of sheet music for recitals, I still play the way I did back then. Of course I’ve gotten much better at what I can play and I do know how to read round notes. I even took organ lessons as an adult and more music lessons. The last piano teacher I had taught me how to do more with the way I play church and gospel quartet music. Learning anything else takes lots of practice and discipline. I don’t mind the practice but I hate not being able to express myself in what I’m playing. I just never could learn how to express Bach or Beethoven. Besides that nobody I know wants to hear me play classical music.

    I was about ten when I played the piano for church the first time. The pianist who played the first song before Sunday School wasn’t there and the church pianist wasn’t on time either. The Sunday School Superintendent asked if anyone else could play. My mother spoke up and said I could. I remember playing “Bringing In The Sheaves” in the key of C. That was the beginning of my music career.

                                                                                                                                                                     On March 20, 2000 my life as I knew it ended. I have Systemic Lupus. This is an autoimmune disease in which the body’s immune system gets confused and thinks normal, healthy body tissue is an invader such as a germ or virus and sets out to kill it. It can attack anywhere in the body without much, if any, warning. On this day it was my colon that got attacked and I lost so much of my body’s fluids that I went into shock. My daughter-in-law found me unconscious and got help. I was in a coma for eight days and on life support for part of that time. I have no memory of these events. I went to bed at home and woke up in this strange place. I was in shock for an extended time and the doctors had no idea what shape I’d be in when/if I woke up.

    I’ve had to use a walker ever since this happened. I use one with wheels and glides. I have a wire basket attached to the front to carry things I need.  I can’t stand up unless I am holding onto something steady. I also have to use a wheelchair/power chair lots of the time now. I lived in a “brain fog” that took me to some interesting places when I slept. I wasn’t very aware of lots of things. I developed Myoclonus Jerks which would cause me to fall if I happened to be standing up or walking. I would fall straight backwards most of the time. I couldn’t get up by myself. Needless to say I had to have 24/7 care.

    One night around 10:30 my husband was watching TV and I was walking to put something down on the table. Suddenly I had one of the Myoclonus Jerks and fell. This time I knew something was different. I couldn’t move my right arm and the pain was so bad. He wanted to help me up but I said, “No, go call an ambulance”. I did not know a person could scream so long and as loud as I did when the paramedics set my arm for transport. I had surgery to put in a rod and pins to “fix” it. I had PT at home three days a week and I was getting nowhere with it. Then I fell again and re-broke it. This time the orthopedic surgeon put in a shoulder joint replacement.

    I never got back much use of my right arm. This ended my piano career. It ended just about everything I couldn’t do with my left arm and hand. I became even more dependent on others to take care of me. A special brace is now attached to my walker to support my right arm and I can use it to help guide the walker. The shoulder replacement joint got infected right after surgery. Good old staph but it wouldn’t go away. For two years I was on and off IV antibiotics at home. Insurance didn’t pay for this or for the sitters. In 2004 the joint replacement was removed. Now I do not have a right shoulder joint at all but I am much better off without it. My arm has improved lots but I can’t raise it. I can type, eat, sew, and brush my teeth. I still can’t comb my hair with it.

    In 2005 the Lupus launched an attack on my liver. This put me in the hospital, again. I was there for 10 days.

    When I left the hospital that time I started getting better. Very slowly, just bit by bit I improved. Actually God worked a miracle. I came out of my “brain fog” and I don’t visit strange places in my head anymore. I can eat again and have gained back the weight I lost.  But the best thing that has happened is that I can play the piano once again. The bad thing is that I got so depressed and I didn’t really know what I was doing and I gave my piano away. I can’t buy a new one so my church let me bring home the keyboard to practice on. Still it isn’t a piano. I want my piano back that my parents bought for me but it’s too late now.

    Now I can play the piano for Sunday morning service. This really tires me out and it does cause pain but it is pain that I gladly endure just so I can play the piano again and express my love for my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. This is a great miracle if people will just see it for what it is.

    I also play for the church quartet. My husband sings in it and has for many years. I was always upset when he sang. I got down right mad at God because I couldn’t be a part of that anymore. After years of playing piano for church I was back on the side lines.  We had another pianist so I wasn’t needed. Then I was too sick. I didn’t think God ever could/would use me again with the only talent I have and believe me it is one talent not ten like the good servant got in the Bible parable.

    Now, Praise God, I am able to play for the quartet and my husband and I are working together again. I can’t express how happy this makes me. The peace, the love, the memories—old and new—are bringing us closer together again. It’s like starting all over with a clean slate. We are re-building bridges that were lost while I was so sick. Quite often it is the little things that make a big difference. The touch on my shoulder; an unexpected hug; a wink; a smile; or a sparkle in his eyes. These are new and wonderful again.

    But for tonight I’m scared. Our quartet is singing tonight in front of a whole bunch of strangers. It is the spring choir festival at another church and several churches will be there with their choirs. I’ve never played before this many people and these people know music. Our daughter-in-law will be singing and she’s a semi-pro. The main problem is that I can’t hear the quartet unless they are right beside me because I’m almost deaf. Then I’ll have to be helped to the piano along with my walker and my navy tote that conceals as much of my supra pubic catheter drainage system as possible. Play. Then reverse the process. At least we’re supposed to be first on the program. I’ll let you know what happens and how I feel when I get back.  Wanda @4:30

    Hello again. It’s after the choir festival and I survived it!!!

    I was able to enter the sanctuary via the handicapped ramp leading into the front of the room. It was right beside the stage but it was the wrong end of the stage for me. I needed to be where the piano was not the organ. Also I had three steps to get up and there aren’t any handrails for support. The choir chairs had been brought down and put in front of the stage/altar area so that I couldn’t walk on the floor to get to the other side. I was helped onto the stage and I had to walk all the way across it to the piano. There wasn’t a thing or a soul up there but me and my trusty walker. I was looking down on a completely filled sanctuary of about 225 people. Thankfully they were busy talking and I don’t think many noticed me at first.

    I needed to warm up and get the feel of how this piano played so I got a hymnal and start to play very softly. That did get more attention and I was asked to play louder so I did. Then it was time to begin and our quartet came up to sing. They came over to the piano where I could see and hear them. We did just fine. I didn’t get nervous and shaky at all. I knew what I was there for and I did it. I was there to give praise to God as was the quartet and all the other singers/musicians. Everyone did just great and we had a wonderful time. I liked the applause but there was something I liked even better. When my feet were once again on the ground floor I looked up and saw my daughter-in-law, her mother and our mutual granddaughter all smiling and happy and beaming. They are the ones who were with me when the doctors said I was ready for Hospice care and they are the only ones in the building who really knew what this playing of one short song meant to me.

    I hope that all who read this will understand that God can and will use anyone for His glory if you are willing.

Wanda

My Friends Live In My Computer

   MY FRIENDS LIVE IN MY COMPUTER

    Every day I get several jokes from people I’ve only met via the Internet. Every few days I get something that is uplifting and very worthwhile.   All of these are very important to the state of my health. These can be funny and make me laugh and they will probably be the only laughs I have on many days. I’m not saying that my husband and family don’t have any humor in them. What I’m saying is that I don’t have much humor in me because some days the pain just won’t let good things shine through. The saying I’ve seen a few times online says that “my friends live in my computer”. This is pretty much the truth for me and many chronic pain patients around the world. I don’t like using the word “patient” to describe us. We are more than that and just because we have been injured or got sick doesn’t change who we are. We are still fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, grandparents, friends, etc. However how we are able to live in and respond to the world has changed. Unfortunately most of the world does not allow for these changes. We gain Handicapped Tags and Placards along with assistive devices while we lose friends and many times family.

    The One Person we can not lose is God. Sometimes we may think we have when times are really black but if we have truly accepted Jesus as our Savior and Lord then we will always be safe. John 3:16 tells us: “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life”. KJV

    It doesn’t matter what the state of our health is, it is the state of our heart that others see and respond to. With the exception of number 1, which involves driving a car, I don’t see anything here we can’t do in some small way. It never ceases to amaze me when I get comments about the things I share here. It makes my day worthwhile just to know that a few words here can help someone else on the other side of the world or in my backyard. When the heart is happy, no matter how weary the body is, one can lay down in peace and hope to stay there long enough for a good night’s sleep. Pain tends to make sleep disappear except when we want to stay awake. I haven’t figured that one out yet.

    I don’t remember which friend sent me the email below first or even second. It is the fact that I have these wonderful friends who live in my computer that helps make this so special. I’ve left it the way I got it and while I did forward it to other friends and family I’ve decided to share this with all of you who are willing to read it. Perhaps it will help you and you’ll send it on to someone else too.

    I believe these words to be true.

God bless you all,

Wanda

WHAT GOD WILL ASK (author unknown)

1. God won't ask what kind of car you drove. He'll ask
how many people you drove who didn't have
transportation.

2. God won't ask the square footage of your house.
He'll ask how many people you welcomed into your home.

3. God won't ask about the clothes you had in your
closet. He'll ask how many you helped clothe.

4. God won't ask what your highest salary was. He'll
ask if you gave some to help others.

5. God won't ask what your job title was. He'll ask if
you performed your job to the best of your ability.

6. God won't ask how many friends you had. He'll ask
how many people to whom you were a friend.

7. God won't ask in what neighborhood you lived. He'll
ask how you treated your neighbors.

8. God won't ask about the color of your skin, He'll
ask about the content of your character.

9. God won't ask why it took you so long to seek
Salvation. He'll lovingly take you to your mansion in
heaven, and not to the gates of Hell.

10. God won't have to ask how many people you
forwarded this to. He already knows whether or not you
are ashamed to share this information with those you
love. Repost this if you believe in God.

May God bless you.

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25 Signs You've Grown Up For Good

Hi,

A friend sent me the item below. My reply is simply this: “Maybe it's time to stick my fingers in my ears and close my eyes while I'm saying over and over again: "I refuse to grow up!"

I hope you enjoy this one.

Wanda

25 signs that you've grown up for good 1. Your houseplants are alive, and you can't smoke any of them. 2. Having sex in a twin bed is out of the question. 3. You keep more food than beer in the fridge. 4. 6:00 AM is when you get up, not when you go to bed. 5. You hear your favorite song in an elevator. 6. You watch the Weather Channel. 7. Your friends marry and divorce instead of "hook up" and "break up." 8. You go from 130 days of vacation time to 14. 9. Jeans and a sweater no longer qualify as "dressed up." 10. You're the one calling the police because those %&@# kids next door won't turn down the stereo. 11. Older relatives feel comfortable telling sex jokes around you. 12. You don't know what time Taco Bell closes anymore. 13. Your car insurance goes down and your car payments go up. 14. You feed your dog Science Diet instead of McDonald's leftovers. 15. Sleeping on the couch makes your back hurt. 16. You take naps. 17. Dinner and a movie is the whole date instead of the beginning of one. 18. Eating a basket of chicken wings at 3 AM would severely upset, rather than settle, your stomach. 19. You go to the drug store for ibuprofen and antacid, not condoms and pregnancy tests. 20. A $4.00 bottle of wine is no longer "pretty good shit." 21. You actually eat breakfast food at breakfast time. 22. "I just can't drink the way I used to" replaces "I'm never going to drink that much again." 23. 90% of the time you spend in front of a computer is for real work. 24. You drink at home to save money before going to a bar. 25. When you find out your friend is pregnant you congratulate them instead of asking "Oh damn, how the hell did that happen?" Bonus: 26: You read this entire list looking desperately for one sign that doesn't apply to you and can't find one to save your sorry old butt; Then you forward it to a bunch of old friends cuz you know they'll enjoy it too. I’ll have you know, that number 23 doesn't apply to me....so there!

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BLESSINGS

  BLESSINGS

   For several months I’ve been meaning to write about my blessings but I just haven’t been able to get the right words down on paper or more accurately on computer. Then a few days ago as I was looking for my Easter music I came across an old song I’d completely forgotten about. As I sat down to play this gospel style hymn I also began to look closely at the words. This song describes the way I feel so I’m publishing it here.

It is Easter time for most of the Christians in the world and this song was written by The Easter Brothers, James, Russell, and Edd.

THANK YOU, LORD, FOR YOUR BLESSINGS

   “As the world looks upon me as I struggle along, and they say I have nothing, but they are so wrong; in my heart I’m rejoicing, and how I wish they could see, Thank you, Lord, for Your blessings on me.

   “I know I’m not wealthy, and these clothes are not new, And I don’t have much money, but Lord, I have You; And to me that’s all that matters, tho’ the world may not see, Thank you, Lord, for Your blessings on me.

Chorus:

   “There’s a roof up above me, I’ve a good place to sleep, There’s food on my table and shoes on my feet; You gave me Your love, Lord, and a fine family, Thank you, Lord, for Your blessings on me.”

   Health isn’t mentioned in this song and I can’t leave it out.  Perhaps the authors had health in mind when they used the words “struggle along”. This is my big struggle. The struggle may be different things for different people. I’ve lived in chronic pain for so long I can barely remember not having pain everyday. This morning as I was trying to wake up I was in a dream about a time and place where I lived and didn’t have pain. It was a good memory. Then I woke up completely and re ality hit. Where is the Aleve when you really need it?

   Health is the great equalizer here. I’ve met rich people and I’ve met poor people in the doctor’s office waiting room.  Let’s take a look at the Pain Management Clinic waiting room. One half of the people there are in severe chronic pain. Why only one half? Because the other half brought them there.

   The truth here is that some people have better surroundings to suffer in than others. But it still comes back to what’s going on inside us—inside our head, our heart. It’s like the song says: “…in my heart I’m rejoicing…”.

  Friday I have to visit the pain doctor for a "procedure" because the pain is more than my pump can handle. Facet injections are OK but not an epidural steroid injection. I can't find out which one he wants to do from the nurse so I just have to go and see what happens. I hope this helps the sympathetic pain which is what this is supposed to be.

   Saturday we have Easter egg hunts to take the grandkids to.

   Sunday we celebrate the 2000+ anniversary of the resurrection of Jesus from the dead. This is the greatest event in the history of this world we live in. Christ arose! Amen!

God bless,

Wanda

Miracles, Grandkids & Mistakes

MIRACLES, GRANDKIDS & MISTAKES

    Some people say that I am “fortunate” to have lived as long as I have. But I’m not that old, am I? No, I’m not but I won’t tell my physical age because my inner being doesn’t feel that old. When I told my youngest son that he can’t be 29 because I’m just 18 he looked at his wife and said, “And you think I‘m crazy? Now you know where I got it”. I didn’t ask what “it” is. My doctors told me that I have “Someone” up there taking care of me because they didn’t do anything to bring me through that particularly tough lupus attack. All they did was put me on life support. I call that doing something to help. After that attack in 2000 I had several more, the last being in early 2005. Once again I was “fortunate” to have survived the lupus. Not only did I survive, I got better—lots better (though never whole again). Why? Miracles. God sent miracles my way. He answered my prayers as well as the prayers of others. Praise God!!

    Now I can spend “quality” time with my grandkids. I can’t do much outside the house though. I’m stuck in here because it is too hard to get out the door with this walker I have to use at all time. When I tried it alone I ended up hurting my shoulder and arm. I guess if it were a matter of life and death, I’d get out the door. I do have a wheelchair ramp so once someone holds the door open I can get out safely. The truth is that no matter where I am, I am in constant pain. This is the life of a chronic pain sufferer. We live on a tight rope while trying to juggle a somewhat normal life so we are bound to fall off and we hope there will be a safety net below us when this happens. Usually there isn't one. My biggest problem is getting mad at the least little thing that goes wrong or not my way. It's a constant battle for me.

    I have one grandchild who stays with me after school and any time school isn’t in session. This included last summer. I have two more who come on weekends most of the time. The fourth one comes less now because age brings on more activities with friends and school. The other two live too far away so I only get to see them a couple of times a year.

    I can handle the oldest grandson just fine. He’s 11 now and is lots of fun to be around but he is a boy and boys do tend to get into trouble if not watched closely. The eight year old who stays after school is also fun to be with and I don’t have many problems with her. However when she wants her way it’s very hard to convince her that no means no. “What part of NO do you not understand?”  The two who come on weekends, ages six and eight, are harder to deal with than just one alone. But this is normal since sisters do tend to get into disagreements from time to time. They are fun to be with too. In case you don’t realize it I’m a proud granny who loves to be with her grandkids. I love being a part of their lives. They have just accepted my disabilities as part of life. Three of them learned to pull up and walk by holding onto my walker with me.

   This week is Spring Break and I’ve had the grandkids here with me but not all on the same day except for Monday. Grandpa doesn’t usually leave me alone with the kids when three or four are here but Monday he had an emergency at work and was gone all day. So, the four of them wanted to go outside to play. It was very warm and sunny so I said, OK. What could they get into since I told them to stay in the yard? I couldn’t go out but I could look out the windows and see them. I watched as they ran around the house playing chase. Then hide and seek. They played with the neighbor kids for a short time. Lastly I saw them outside the bow window in the dinette. They seemed to be having fun and I couldn’t see anything wrong. I just saw the tops of heads moving around. Then the youngest, age six, comes in to ask for ice cream. “No, not until after lunch which is now. Go get the others”. Then I took a close look at her and noticed she was covered in mud. That’s right MUD and she’d tracked it all through the house while looking for me. Needless to say when the other three showed up they were also covered in mud. Had it rained lately? No. But a nice eleven year old boy can carry a water hose around the house, hook it up and make a mud hole to play in. Whose Idea was this? The eight year old only child. Who used Scout training to make it a good mud hole? The oldest sister. What about the youngest? Her suggestion was to take off their shoes before getting into the mud. Was granny mad? YES!!!!!!

    So I had them clean up and eat lunch. I told them to stay inside and watch TV or play games. Then I made my second big mistake of the day. I turned my back on them by going to another room for something. When I came back, they were outside again and right back into that mud hole!!!! This time with shoes on. I sat down and gave in to laughter. What else could I do at this point? When supper time was coming up I called them in again. I sent the three girls to take a shower and the boy to take a bath. They put on their third set of clothing for the day. We had to go to the funeral home for a visitation. 

    Then grandpa came home and saw the clean kids but the very dirty floor and carpet. Yep, dried mud everywhere. He wasn’t happy at all about this. He set the kids to cleaning up their mess. They had to pick up their toys, vacuum the floor and get ready to go. Grandpa called one son to come get his kid. The boy we took home. The other two went to the funeral home with us.

    Here I sit today. The two sisters are watching TV and want some ice cream. I said after lunch which is soon. I’m here because God used His miracles to preserve my life on Earth for a while longer. He’s given me these extra-ordinary times with my grandkids. I know they will soon be too “grown up” to want to spend this much time with a granny who can’t get around very well. I try to cherish every moment even when they disobey. It’s part of the learning process. I will have to try harder not to make mistakes with them. I want this to be a refuge for them. I want them to know that I will always be here for them. It’s a big commitment but it is worth it.

   I pray that getting into a mud hole is the biggest mistake these grandkids and I ever make. I should have watched them closer but they should have not done it because they knew it was wrong. Still I am the adult even if I am “disabled” in my physical body. Besides, it is funny now and this will hopefully be a good memory for the five of us and our generations who will follow.

Wanda

"How Doctors Think"

       I've often wondered what doctors think about when they meet a new patient. I'm very apprehensive when seeing a new doctor. Will he/she like me? Will he/she understand what I'm trying to get across about my current health problem? I know they are pushed for time so I have things I take with me to help with the confusion of a long set of diagnoses. I have a list of all my medications and how to take them. I have a list of all allergies as well as current doctors and how to contact them. Emergency numbers and insurance companies are there too. This saves lots of time.

     Then there is the problem of how to look good but not too good to be as sick as I say I am. I have copies of many old medical records. So many times I would tell a doctor how bad my pain is only to have the doctor write in my chart that I was in no noticable pain. What is "noticable pain"? Tell me and I'll do it. Can't this doctor just believe me? Actually, no.

     Then what about the time I had pain in my right arm and hand. It eventually became numb and I couldn't use it. I would drop things. I saw more than one doctor about this. Each time I was told that this could not be coming from my back. I'd had three lumbar surgeries years before and another just a month or so before so it had to be from my back, right?  OK, where is it coming from? "Well, you have this pain because you want more narcotics and I'm not going to give them to you. Goodbye."

     All of these doctors placed me in a catagory or box as soon as they heard the first few words I said. Finally one young doctor asked what the white spot was on my right arm x-ray. It was a tumor. Imagine that. Those doctors were right. It wasn't coming from my back but they failed to look outside the "box" they put me in to look for another answer. If he hadn't asked his supervising doctor that question I never would have known that it was diagnosed as being a calcuim deposit. I could have lost the use of my right arm due to this.

     This is my own lead into "How Doctors Think" by Dr. Jerome Groopman. This doctor has elected to take us as patients behind the scenes and tell us how doctors arrive at their diagnoses, both good and bad. I think every person who ever visits a doctor or has family/friends who do needs to read this book. It might do doctors some good too. The only interest I have in this book is to tell people it includes many important things that we overlook or don't know how to ask. This has allowed me to see my doctors as highly trained people but people can make mistakes no matter how highly trained they are. It's up to me as the patient as well as my family, or friends who help me, to know how to properly communicate with our doctors. It isn't complicated. It is simply a matter of knowing what to ask or insist on. Interesting concept here. This book is available at bookstores and online too.

Happy reading,

Wanda

Perspectives

     I wish I could take credit for writing this selection below but I can't. However I can say that we have to look at our lives as they are now. We have become "defective" and we can't be "fixed" by modern medicine. The majority of people can't understand this.

     We understand when someone gets cancer. They usually do every thing possible to "cure" the cancer and it either works or it doesn't. They live or die.

     But what happens when one is in chronic pain that can't be seen? I'm not interested in "other people" right now. I'm interested in us--the ones in pain. We're disabled in some way. We can no longer do the things we did before. Our life is changed and we do not like this at all. Many can no longer work at jobs they loved and that provided for a family. Women can no longer care for the house and kids like we did before. Our goals have to change and not for the better. As long as we keep our goals/aims up to what they once were, we will always fail.

     We have to take a really good look at what we are now and what we can actually do this day.

     I wake up in the morning and give myself time to get in touch with my body. Where do I hurt; how much do I hurt; what can I realistically accomplish today? Maybe the best I can do is to get up and have breakfast then go back to bed for a short time. But maybe I can get up and have breakfast and go on to actually pick up some of the mess in the house or do one of my hobbies.

     Some days I don't do much but others I do a lot considering the condition my body is in. Notice I said body, not mind. Thankfully my mind is free and clear so most of the time I can think straight. It all boils down to Perspectives about life. While the article below is comparing the rich and poor it says a lot about how we look at every thing.

     Being truly rich or poor happens inside not outside. It happens in our spirit and soul. It is what goes on inside that makes each of us unique. Genesis 2:7 tells us this, "And the Lord God formed man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living soul".

If you were to look at my "outside" you would see a baby boomer who is obviously ill and who doesn't have much by the world's standard. If you could look at my "inside" you would find a person who is happy to still be alive and a soul that sings most of the time, praising God. In this Perspective I'm very rich.

I'm also wealthy because I have friends and family. I appreciate living in a country where I can write this without worrying about being persecuted. We all need to appreciate our soldiers who are willing to die to keep us free. (This is not about politics.) It's all about Perspective.

Wanda

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On their return from their trip, the father asked his son, "How was the trip?"
"It was great, Dad."

"Did you see how poor people live?" the father asked.
"Oh yeah," said the son.
"So, tell me, what did you learn from the trip?" asked the father.
The son answered:
“I saw that we have one dog and they had four.

We have a pool that reaches to the middle of our garden and they have a creek that has no end.
We have imported lanterns in our garden and they have the stars at night.
Our patio reaches to the front yard and they have the whole horizon.
We have a small piece of land to live on and they have fields that go beyond our sight.
We have servants who serve us, but they serve others.
We buy our food, but they grow theirs.
We have walls around our property to protect us, they have friends to protect them."

The boy's father was speechless.
Then his son added, "Thanks Dad for showing me how poor we are."

Isn't perspective a wonderful thing? Makes you wonder what would happen if we all gave thanks for everything we have, instead of worrying about what we don't have.

Appreciate every single thing you have, especially your friends!

(Author unknown)   

Perspective: Poor People

One day, the father of a very wealthy family took his son on a trip to the country with the express purpose of showing him how poor people live. They spent a couple of days and nights on the farm of what would be considered a very poor family.