Wednesday, February 28, 2018

Days 230-239: 8 weeks, 4 days

I am supposed to be writing about experiences with patients that have deeply affected me.  While there are many situations that I have had wonderful experiences with patients and their families, most of my time and energy is devoted to the wedding.  I had fun today at a little shower at work with everyone.  Then, the handles broke on one of the bags of gifts, so I awkwardly carried them to my car.  It's one of the few times I was a little disappointed that I had to walk across the entire hospital just to get to my car...  My biceps asked that I not make them lift weights tonight.

I've also had multiple people say that I need to add more things that I "want" to the registry, not things I "need".  LOML and I do not really have a lot of stock in material things.  We keep it simple.  We don't want or need many things.  The original items on the registry were the things we wanted.  We can add a bunch of stuff, but then there's also the issue with not having anywhere to put it in our tiny house...  And the fact that we are likely going to end up having to buy the stuff for ourselves over the next couple of years because not all of it is going to be given as presents.

I probably am not going about this the right way, but in my mind the gifts are superfluous.  Everyone is already having to pay to come celebrate with us.  It's going to sound cliche, but getting to spend time with friends and family is far more important than anything anyone buys for us.  There is nothing on that list that we need right now, and sure the stuff is fun, but it is just that.  It's stuff.  I appreciate everyone's desire to give gifts, but really, I just want to spend time with people and enjoy their company.  I don't want to keep being told that I'm not materialistic enough for everyone else...

Sunday, February 18, 2018

Days 220-229: Planning

I really have done a horrible job of blogging each day.  During the past week, we have worked on wedding planning to the point where I'm not having regular nightmares about the day of.  The first nightmare involved me running around the venue doing all the last minute planning.  I'm in my wedding gown, and freaking out about LOML seeing me in my wedding dress.  I even have my sister and brother working to try to keep me from being seen.  I have no idea what I thought I needed to do the day of my wedding.  I woke up panicked that LOML saw me in my dress.

Two nights ago, I dreamed that the hair and make-up crew showed up late, we had to set-up in this huge covered porch with large sheets so that no one could see us.  Then, right before I was supposed to start my hair and make-up, we realized the photographer wasn't there.  He was at the door, really upset that he couldn't make it because his daughter had a play he'd forgotten about when he said he was available for our wedding.  He said a back-up was on the way but couldn't guarantee when the replacement would arrive.

These dreams are strange, and I figure they will continue to worsen over the next 10 weeks.  I can't believe it's 10 weeks away.  We have the invitations done for the wedding.  The rehearsal dinner invitations are ordered.  My mom has finished the numbers for the tables.  I have completed the ceremony script.  We still have to complete the forms for the ceremony and reception music, but have at least talked through them.  I have babysitters lined up, but need to get them the information about the number and ages of the children.  We have our food tasting on March 12, and have picked out the food we want to try; we need to figure out the pricing based on the number of children, etc.  I don't even know what else we need to work on.  I think the photographer and day-of coordinator both have forms for us to complete at some point.

I feel like I live and breathe wedding planning and am not doing a great job at it right now.  I can't seem to shake the feeling that I am inadequate at this.  I feel like I am not keeping up even though I'm relatively ahead of schedule.  I am not maintaining the family relations I need the way I need to with fellowship, the cats, and wedding planning.  I feel like I'm failing on all fronts most of the time.  Even if I'm not, I feel like I am, and when everything calms down, I'm going to realize that I don't really have anything left.

Thursday, February 08, 2018

Day 219: Blessed

I am so blessed to have the support team that I have and keep expanding.  I am a firm believer that if you are humble, if you are willing to be vulnerable, if you are willing to let others help you, you will overcome any difficulties.  This isn't asking those people to take the burden of the challenge and carry it for you.  That is not their cross to bear.  Instead, these are the people that will help you with her comfort in facing the challenge and provide the strength to continue through it.  It's not about pushing the work off on others, but finding ways to support each other in life.  Life is not easy.  It is not supposed to be easy.  If it's easy, you're not fully living.  I didn't adopt all my little creatures thinking their care would be easy.  I have LOML to help me.  He is willing to hold me when I feel like I've failed at caring for the animals.  He helps in getting them medicine and dealing with the crazy diets.  He is supportive despite the fact that he sort of fell into their care.

Yesterday, I got to talk with the team that cares for children with chronic diseases or genetic diseases.  I talked about the hardship of feeling like I was a terrible parent, and how we sometimes look at the parents of these sick children the same way.  About how they could allow their children to get into certain situations or that these children appear to be suffering.  We can say the same of the children of the adults we take care of on the other end of the age spectrum.  It was refreshing to talk with people who didn't look at my like I had lost my mind for the things I try to do for my animals.  It helped having someone in the room who had a cat with diabetes and understood the hardship of caring for an animal with a chronic disease that requires constant monitoring and management.

It's also been really helpful having my mom.  She used to work in pediatrics, and her describing Julia as a baby with asthma was helpful.  She would see so many babies in the ED on bad weather days because their asthma would flare.  There was nothing the parents did that caused the exacerbation, and there wasn't a lot that they could have done to prevent it from occurring.  She was so reassuring and supportive.  It was so nice having her and LOML saying that I was doing a great job with caring for Julia.  Even when I took Julia back to the vet yesterday, hearing the vet say that I had done the right things in the situation we were in helped reassure that I knew how to take care of my sweet girl.

I think that's the hard part.  If it's obvious the medical team trusts the family's judgement, that bridge of mutual respect and team building is there.  Each can support the other in coming up with a plan that is beneficial and manageable.  If it's obvious the medical team feels the family can't manage the care, then the family goes on the defensive.  They feel belittled and demeaned.  They lose their trust in the medical team because they feel like it's an us v. them situation when it shouldn't be.  We all have the same goal.  We all want the sick patient to get well.  At the end of the day, we want to do the best we can on that team in caring for the loved one.

Wednesday, February 07, 2018

Days 211-218: Feline Asthma

One of the most terrifying things is having a sick child.  While I do not have any human babies, I do have several animals (who have been referenced in past posts).  For the most part, they are healthy.  LOML and I do what we can to make sure they get what they need.  Julia, our only little girl kitty, has feline asthma.  While we don't know why or what the original trigger was, for the most part, she has done reasonably well until the last couple months.  The first trigger in January was the heating system breaking.  The more recent was likely the use of pine sol to clean the floors and the terrible weather.  Now we're in the cycle she was in when she was first diagnosed where it took several rounds of IM and oral steroids and bronchodilators to finally smooth things out.  Unfortunately, it is stressful for her to go to the vet, and the stress doesn't help her breathing.  I hate seeing her so tired out, struggling to breathe, and not herself.  It makes me feel like I'm letting her down because I can't seem to get her feeling better.  It's also really scary to think that she might not survive each subsequent cycle of exacerbation.  I feel helpless and sad.  She doesn't deserve to suffer from this disease, and she really does well in between.  Unfortunately, the vet has never seen her when she is doing well, so it looks like LOML and I just let her sit and suffer all the time at home.  That's hard feeling like the medical team looks at you like you're horrible parents for letting your child suffer without receiving medical attention.  The thing is, we don't.  If we didn't care, we wouldn't bring her to the vet when she's acting uncomfortable or can't breathe.  We do our best to follow the instructions we're given for her care.  We really do try to keep her as happy and healthy as we can.  We're just in a bad cycle right now.  The sense that we are being looked at as animal torturers is hurtful.

I realize that there are situations where, in the medical field, we look at patients and families the same way.  How could they allow x, y,or z to happen to their loved one?  Why didn't they bring them in earlier?  What kind of life do they allow their loved one to have at home?  It's condescending and does not allow for the partnership that is needed to care for the very sick patients we are seeing.  Everyone hopes for the best, that the bad parts will pass, and the sun will come out.  The disease that is attacking their loved one is really only a virus, a cold, that will pass.  No one wants to think that their loved one has cancer or something equally bad.  What would be different if, instead of thinking to ourselves all the bad things that come to mind when faced with a critically ill patient that has been sitting at home just as sick, we try to put ourselves in that family's shoes?  What if they thought it was something simple that would pass?  What if they didn't want to see the red flags because they knew it was something bad but wanted to hold onto the hope that it wasn't as bad as they thought?  Don't we all do that at some point or another?  Instead of thinking that the family is neglectful (unless there truly are signs of neglect or abuse), show compassion for them.  It is hard trying to deal with as foreign an area as medicine.  We use language that isn't fully English but say it in a way that people feel even smaller because they don't understand what we're talking about.  They may have had a horrific incident in the past with the medical field and are reluctant to use it.  They don't know all the options, and sometimes the options are presented in a way that makes them feel like their loved one isn't getting the expert care they deserve.  There are any number of reasons why people may avoid the healthcare system until it is far too late.  So instead of belittling them, align yourself with them because you never know when you'll find yourself in the same situation and realize the fear of not being able to care for those you love most.