fabrisse

At the end of August, Sis and I drove my car to Atlanta which means it now has about 1100 miles on it. Our main objective was the Georgia Aquarium. It was lovely, and I got to meet a Beluga whale named Kina.

Our secondary objective was to talk to Passport Health about what vaccinations we needed for our trip to South America in December.

Chikungunya was a disease I'd never heard of before. It's mosquito borne, so although we are going to be on a ship most of the time, we opted for it. For the same reason, we wanted the Yellow Fever vaccine, but it's not great for people over 60. We left it as one to discuss with our primary care physicians. Whee. Since it's mosquito borne, I'd like to get it, but the potential side effects are sufficiently scary to make it worth the discussion.

We got TDaP boosters. I was also thrilled to find out that the Typhoid Fever vaccine comes as an oral medication which has to be taken for four days. Since it didn't leave me with a red circle around a dot that has its own fever and hurts like hell, I definitely approve of it. Last but not least, we had the first of two shots for Hepatitis A.

The reactions were minor.

We also got some heavy-duty bug spray for our clothes. Supposedly, it lasts up to 7 washes. And we made sure we had recommendations for medications to take with us.

I'm scheduled for COVID-19 and Flu shots next week. I'm under the age for the COVID shot, but my severe asthma should get me the all important doctor's note to let me take it. I see the pulmonologist's NP on Monday. Fingers crossed. We're also crossing fingers that Sis can use my asthma to get her COVID shot.

In honor of the current irrationality surrounding vaccination, I'd like to share a video:

Watch on YouTube

The best thing in my life right now is submitting my fandoms for Yuletide.

Those of you who've known me since I lived in Boston -- heck, some of you who've only known me since DC -- probably know that I get bronchitis. A lot. The only reason that I haven't been diagnosed with pneumonia since 2005 is because I've had the shots (and boosters) to prevent it.

What I haven't had -- at least according to one of my Boston doctors -- is asthma.

In the past year I've had 5 bouts of bronchitis and one of tonsilitis with coughing. This isn't good. My primary care sent me to a lung specialist and last week I got a lung function test (Google has failed me as to the actual name of the test) to ascertain whether asthma was an issue.

So. The test uses spirography (Google didn't entirely fail me). I blow into a tube. My base lung function is recorded. Then I blow into it four more times after having various levels of a drug that inhibits lung function. If you don't have asthma, you might feel a little light headed, but it won't cut down your ability to blow out into that tube by much.

I did the baseline. I did the minimal level of the drug. Then I did the second of the four levels. The technician stopped the test and said, "I'm not a doctor. I can't diagnose, but I'm pretty sure that you have asthma." She then gave me the albuterol which should help my problem before I have to drive.

Now, I was a bit surprised that they could tell so quickly, but since my eyes had darkened and I felt like I was going to faint for the first time in nearly 30 years, I was just as happy to stop.

The next morning, I had my official diagnostic meeting with the physician's assistant. The first words out of her mouth were, "I've never seen a test like this." I went from full lung function with none of the drug, to about 95% lung function with the first dose of the inhaled drug. On the second round, I dropped to just under 40% lung function. Apparently, the 40% isn't that rare with the fourth round. It's why you're given albuterol to help you breathe before you're allowed to leave. But dropping that far that quickly is rare.

I'm on a drug called Trelegy which tastes bad, can give me mouth thrush, and makes me feel worse. I haven't had a serious cough since March or April, and that wasn't bad enough to go to the doctor. Since I've been on the new drug, I've been coughing like it's an Olympic sport. It's great for my abs, but the rest of me hurts.

I plan to contact the doctor's office tomorrow to find out whether this is normal in the first week or so of taking the drug. But I started this on Friday. It's Sunday, and I feel worse than I have since my last bout of bronchitis.

Keep your fingers crossed.

After being released from the emergency room, I found a hotel for the night. I slept late -- checked out on time, but I was glad I found a hotel with noon checkout rather than 11 a.m. -- and then drove for 40 minutes to a Jewish Deli just outside of Charlotte.

[n.b., Savannah, GA hosts the oldest continuous Jewish congregation in the U.S., Mickve Israel, but doesn't have a single real Deli. I've been craving Matzoh ball soup for months. Finding out that there was a decent deli in Charlotte meant the world. For the record, there is an older synagogue in Rhode Island, but they fizzled out and reconstituted rather than existing continuously.]

They had Cel-Ray soda. The turkey reuben was made with a turkey pastrami. There was good old-fashioned cucumber salad to go with it. I got two quarts of Matzoh ball soup to go. They had sturgeon by the pound. Next time, I'm getting sturgeon. Or kippered salmon.

I was later than I'd hoped getting home, mostly because my GPS told me to keep left when I needed a right lane exit at the Talmadge bridge in Savannah, but it was otherwise uneventful. I took a break at the two hour mark. It was pretty good.

Today has mostly been spent in bed. I know I should exercise. I know I should write or open boxes or do anything, but I mostly slept. I had a little phone argument with Sis. She doesn't want to put in solar power because she felt it didn't do anything for them in CA. I pointed out that Dad would have gotten the tax credit; this time she will. I also pointed out that they were never without power in CA. We've already had 9 days sans electricity and with hurricane season and tornados on the rise, I think this is necessary. I'm also worried about what tariffs with Canada will do to the oil supply. Keep fingers crossed on this.

It's been rough emotionally for the past year. Mom died on a Saturday, but it was just before 29 February, so everything is offset by two days instead of just one.

Last year, on February 15, the Thursday before her death, a dear friend of hers, the only one who could come and whom Mom wanted to see, came to visit. She and her SO went in and talked with Mom in the morning and let me have a long walk that I desperately needed. They came back in the afternoon, but Mom was non-verbal. Still understanding what was going on. They asked about her time as a stewardess and she squeezed their hand when United was mentioned. They'd brought us a lovely coffee cake, too.

This year, on Thursday, the four of us are going out to dinner at a restaurant Mom liked. It's not exactly a year, but it feels like it because it's the Thursday again. They've been to visit family in Florida. On the way down, they stopped at Beaufort National Cemetery and found Mom and Dad's grave. We're a stop on the way back.

I'm in the emergency room. I had overwhelming chest pain while driving. Will let everyone know more later.

Eta: just had a CAT scan. [I think Texaco Mike will do the reading.] They're more concerned about a possible pulmonary embolism than a heart attack. I should probably mention that Dad had TB.

Eta2: I am ensconced in a hotel. 7 hours in ER. No scarring on my lungs. No calcification in my heart. I already have a Primary Care appoint in 2 weeks, which I've been told is soon enough for a follow-up. I have a heavy duty Pepcid prescription.

I have five cousins on my father's side of the family; the three around my age are by Uncle's first wife. His only daughter is a year older than Sis and just lost her elder son. My oldest cousin, whom I will call Sonny, died this morning never having left the hospital after his admission for extremely low sodium, pneumonia, strep, and flu.

Cousine barely made it from the west coast in time to say goodbye. The brother between her and Sonny will get there tonight.

Sonny went into the navy at 18. He was discharged for mental health by the time he was 20. Schizophrenia runs on his mother's side of the family. Ships in the 1970s were easy to find drugs on. I knew about "drug-induced schizophrenia" (I'm pretty sure it would be called something else these days) from the time I was 13.

Sonny has been in and out of V.A. and charity facilities since he was released from the military. Uncle and, later, Cousine have looked after his finances so that it was virtually impossible for him to score drugs -- other than cigarettes -- and so that, unlike many of his contemporaries, he always had a roof over his head.

We can say that he smoked himself to death. It's true. We can say that he might have been treated differently if schizophrenia were better understood or if his family had realized he was prodromal when he enlisted. That's also true.

I saw him three years ago, for about five minutes, when we went to Blacksburg for Thanksgiving. The last I saw him prior to that was 1972.

This post brought to you by bronchitis! I stopped coughing two days ago, but my ribs hurt. The doctor has put me on three drugs, plus two shots and a nebulizer before I leave her office. If I'd waited until next week to be seen, it would have been pneumonia no matter how many preventive jabs I've had.

ETA: The memorial service is on Friday. Sis has midterms, so I'll drive up Thursday, hopefully with a cell phone.

Let's start with AAAARRRRRGGGGHHHH!

We called a plumber to take care of issues with the seal around our toilets. They came by on 15 November. It was supposed to be a $600 fix. Then, it went up to $1000 because more problems than we'd realized were found. Then, they said, pay us $300 for the little bit we were able to do, but we needed a more in depth estimate because things were bad.

The estimator came on 19 November, and there was so much moisture -- the house had been feeling a bit dank -- that we needed industrial drying fans and a fairly major overhaul of both bathrooms' plumbing. Apparently, there's the reason it's called a U-Bend in the UK; it's not supposed to look like the Gordian Knot. The previous owners in 'updating' the house had made major mistakes: different types of pipe jerry-rigged together, PVC and corrugated steel in the same sink trap doesn't work. The bathtub overflow/drain had been put in wrong and with gaskets that let water go directly under the house because they had DRILLED INTO THE PVC to 'attach it' in the crawl space. The three holes were each about the size of a quarter.

Industrial fans went in. We went into a hotel on 25 November. Our contractor came by the next day and accused the estimators of using too many fans to overcharge our insurance. He gave us a fair estimate, and, as we'd literally discovered only an hour earlier that the buyers had pulled out from our house, agreed to float the cost until the house sold. In the event, his estimate was reasonable and we'll be able to pay it, though things will be a might tight in the ter Brugghe household until we find new buyers.

The buyers pulling out should have meant that we got the Earnest Money they put up guaranteeing that they would not pull out after a certain date. We were on contingency and their buyers had pulled out. Originally they asked to work with us to buy the property with a later timeline, so pulling out entirely was a shock.

We don't get the Earnest Money. I think our Realtor has been leading us around by the nose. Sis really likes her because she helped when the family first got to Savannah and Dad liked her. I'm furious.

The original estimate for finishing the bathrooms was 13 December. When our contractor found out that Sis had surgery scheduled for yesterday, he put more workers on it. In taking up the floors to correct the issues we had, he discovered that some of the damp was because the prior owners -- who advertised the house with completely renovated bathrooms -- had not put in the flooring correctly. We picked and purchased new floor tile for that bathroom on Monday. Since Monday was Dad's birthday, we'd planned to go to the cemetery, but we ended up buying tile instead.

Anyway, more problems were found, but the contractor fixed them. He's kept images for our insurance, but we're not certain if the claim will be approved as these weren't problems from Helene or other natural disaster.

We've been told we can't sue the prior owners even though it was their shoddy work that created this problem. We can't sue the Inspector who didn't catch these issues either.

Sis had her rotator cuff surgery yesterday. The bathrooms weren't finished yesterday thanks to the extra problems being found, but we were able to leave the hotel today. [BTW -- 4, count them FOUR, fire alarms went off at the hotel in the night over the last three days. Not the most restful stay we've had.] She's recovering nicely. Her new shower floor looks nice. I can have a bath if I want. Our toilets won't leak. The dogs can come home on Saturday, per her doctor.

If I succeeded in embedding the image, you can see the pattern of my new floor tiles. It seemed appropriate that we found a NATO compass rose on Dad's birthday. He loved his time at NATO.

Yesterday,

( Error: Irreparable invalid markup in entry. Raw contents behind the cut. )

It means they think Mom's in her final days. I gave her morphine for the first time to help her breathe.

I'm alone all day with my mother. The hospice service has been fantastic. They've made certain that I could go to my doctor's appointment [Yea! Antidepressants!] and someone, whether nurse, CNA, chaplain, or social worker is scheduled to come by every day except Sunday. It helps.

Sis will take the night shift tomorrow night, maybe Saturday night, too. I'm looking forward to my own room for the night(s).

I had two long pieces that I meant to write this week. The first, on Monday, would have been about the evacuation from Vietnam which happened on February 12 and the second would have been yesterday talking about Mom and Dad's first date. But I haven't the bandwidth at the moment.

We found out yesterday that dementia!Aunt doesn't remember having been in Savannah for a week. She didn't remember it the day after they returned home.

I love you all and appreciate your notes and messages. Huge hugs.

My uncle called me a good hostess. My dementia!aunt physically threatened me. They've just left for the airport. I'm relieved. I'm a little conflicted.

A volunteer who works with the hospice will come sit with Mom tomorrow while I have my doctor's appointment. With luck, by COB tomorrow, I'll have my new reading glasses, my antidepressants, and about 4 hours where I'm not making certain Mom is okay.

Mom should be home in about half an hour. The Hospice care people have been better about communicating than the hospital has been. Neither has been perfect and I've lost my temper at least twice today with people running in the streets. Apparently the local plantation gave permission for a marathon or 1/2 marathon. I'm furious.

UPDATE: Mom's home. We have the oxygen compressor set right. I gave her a mouth swab with Dr. Pepper on it. It's the one thing she's been begging for.

We're going to have new houseguests on Thursday for two days. and possibly a cousin visiting come next Sunday. None of them have dementia, so that's good.

First of all, I've talked with friends today. I'm fine.

Secondly, I answered all the questions for hospice care, signed the paperwork, and cried a little.

Thirdly, I was left alone for two hours with a sundowning Alzheimer's patient.

Fourthly, Sis informed me that she had to get work done this weekend and everything to do with getting Mom home from the hospital including organizing neighbors to help us move some furniture, arranging delivery of the medical products we'll need, and beginning to care for Mom would be on me because she just won't have time.

I repeat: AAARRRGGGH!!!!

I'm waiting for the gardeners to leave so that I can put the dogs out on the porch, thus minimizing the amount of poop needing to be picked up when we get home this evening.

I'll know more about Mom then.

ADA became law in 1990. It's not perfect. But the law itself, granting the right to accommodation for disability has been around for over 30 years at this point.

This house is a decade old. When Mom, Dad, and Sis arrived the front steps had no railings. With two people over 85, a sister who might visit on a cane, and Sis being over 50 putting up railings seemed the right way to go.

A gurney can, just about make it up those brick steps with the railings up, but the EMTs would not be in optimal positions. Still, the steps are narrow enough that I'm not certain it would have worked with the railings down.

A downside to open plan houses is that they have to have halls that are wide enough for a gurney or a wheelchair, but no one is required to measure the space around the kitchen island, for instance. So, Mom had to be rolled onto a sling, which would probably have been the first step anyway, but then carried by the EMTs and her daughters through the entire first floor, through the front door, and down the front steps to the waiting gurney.

How the builder got away with putting in a front door that couldn't accommodate a gurney, I don't know. I know that the contractor was building for his own use which may be a loophole in the law. All I know is that it added some precious time to getting her onto the gurney when time is the one thing no one has with a stroke.

Sis calls her best friend on Sunday morning. As she was taking the dogs out, she heard a groan from Mom's room. Mom was having a full blown stroke.

I called 911. Sis tried to get her in a comfortable position and locked the dogs on the porch.

We both cleaned her up. I had to lift her onto the bed a bit better. I left a key with the neighbors so that they can feed the dogs if we're not back in time for doggy dinner. Sis and I both had to help the EMTs get her on the gurney by carrying her through the house on a special sling. (My rant about ADA compliance will come when I am not typing one fingered.)

If anyone has sent me an email in the last week, I'm sorry. I substituted daily last week and my exhaustion level was through the roof. I'll check here, and I will let everyone know when I'm back online at home.

UPDATE:

The X-RAY showed a big clot in Mom's brain. The only hospital in town that can do the procedure is another one, not affiliated with her preferred hospital. We are waiting for the ambulance to take her there. We'll follow.

SECOND UPDATE:

Mom can't have the procedure she was brought here for. The area of damage is too big. She's coherent. She can grasp with her right hand, but her left side is immobile. As difficult as Mom can be, her iron will may help immensely with rehabilitation, if we can keep her optimistic about it

Warning: somewhat graphic description in the second sentence.

Tonight's my sister's turn. Vomiting, diarrhea, blood. There had been a car accident, so she's just being seen after a 4+ hour wait. Mom wanted to come, but -- since she can't drive until she's been seen by her doctor next week, and will probably be banned until she's had the next angioplasty, AND, due to COVID, only one person can be with a patient at a time -- I convinced her to stay home.

Sis is in atrial fibrillation at the moment. First time for everything.

BTW, have I mentioned that I ran out of antidepressants and couldn't get them filled for over a week?

I'm so glad I'm here to help, but things are getting stressful.

ETA: Sis will be spending two nights in the hospital on IV antibiotics for colitis.

This is from Mic Out of Office, and it's the Flemish Food Pyramid.

The physical therapist performed the maneuver. I'm feeling better. However, she also thinks the doctor may have misdiagnosed me. I may have been holding my jaw so tight that it affected my inner ear. She based this on the tightness of my shoulders and mandibular muscles (my name for them, probably not the right one) and the weakness of some of my throat muscles. I have homework to strengthen the latter and loosen the former as well as other exercises in case it is the gravel. One other thing she noticed is that my eyes aren't tracking smoothly, especially down to up. In her words, they jump. She thinks this may be a contributor to my dizziness, too, and gave me eye tracking exercises.

I have a lot of homework.

PS: I made it through the day without medication, though I did have some brief spells. I'll probably take it tonight, though, since waking up is one of my worst times for dizziness.

Current Mood: curious

Not the song.

I have gravel (the doctor's term) in my inner ear. I'm having a hard time reading and writing. Lying down is preferable to anything else. And, as I found out the hard way, the twisting chairs in offices are not my friend. Thank heavens for the colleague who switched my customer chair with my desk chair.

I picked up the cane for balance. It helps a bit, but wow, am I dizzy.

Article from NPR: http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=103463398

Current Mood: uncomfortable

Last week, as I was going to work, I fell.

There was a motorcade, and, as I've told anyone who's asked, I have to learn to stop rather than continue to walk in those cases. The lights and noise mildly disoriented me. So, I tripped over a crack in the sidewalk. Being a good little local politician, I immediately (okay, two hours later) reported the issue. The response was a polite "Thank you" and "it will take 270 days to get this repaired." The list of broken sidewalks is so long that it takes 270 days to get it fixed.

After 5 days of bed rest, I'm doing better. The left ankle is still puffy and, more importantly, still hurts, so I'm back on a cane. I could weep. The right knee is still slightly painful and one spot still has a little swelling. The left hip hurts, too. I really love the muscle relaxants which are helping me sleep. Otherwise, I'm taking no extra medication.

I just can't believe how long sidewalk repair takes.

I had a podiatrist's appointment after my final Grand Jury Day (Yea!!!). I have had a steroid injected to help with what appears to be a bone spur which is inflaming my fascia. The injection had to go into the foot directly, and the doctor kept moving the needle to spread the injection.

It hurts. I've been told it will hurt worse tomorrow. *sniff*

Ultimately, it may let me finally get off the cane and back to walking regularly -- though I have to wait at least a week to start again and I've been told I should take it slowly to ramp back up.

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fabrisse

January 2026

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Page generated Jan. 6th, 2026 01:34 pm

Entries tagged with health

It's been awhile

Health

Yesterday and Today

Charlotte NC

Another Family Death

The Last 10 days-ish

Fun and pain

Daily Nurse Visits

Not much happening

Houseguests Gone

Mom, sort of

AAARRRRGGGH!!!!

ADA rant

Back at the Hospital

The emergency room

I like this

Follow up on Inner Ear

Dizzy

Fell

Ouch!