A New Year, A Good Year?

My brother, Max, and dear cousin, Virginia both died in the past three years. I miss them. 

Sunday will be the first day of 2023. I am optimistic about the coming year. 

Like most people, my life has made some drastic changes--good and not-so-good.

The changes for me began in early 2020 when I became sick. I was alone in my mountain home and sicker than I had ever been while living alone. I had a fever and one night in bed I was wheezing when I breathed and when I coughed. I thought about calling 911, but I made it through the night and the next day I drove to an urgent care facility a few miles from my home. For the first time in my life, a nurse swabbed my nostrils. 

"What are you doing that for?" I asked. 

The nurse said, "To see if you have the flu."

They said I didn't have the flu but had a respiratory infection and prescribed antibiotics. At home, I took antibiotics for a week and was still very sick.

My neighbors, Marsha and Alice, brought food to me but didn't come in because they were afraid they would catch what I had. I hardly ate. 

I made an appointment with my primary care doctor. When I told her my symptoms included pressure in my chest, she had me take an EKG. She told me many who had COVID developed heart problems. The EKG showed no change from the one I had previously.

She said, "You don't have an infection. You have a virus. Antibiotics will not help you." 

A few weeks later I began to hear about a virus they were calling COVID-19.  

Then I heard my brother, Max, had been hospitalized. We believe now that he had COVID but was not diagnosed with it. He had to be put on a ventilator for breathing. For both Max and me, this virus changed everything.

He came home from the hospital and could not get his strength back. We talked on the phone every week and he was frustrated that the doctors had put him on blood pressure drugs and were not doing anything to help him get back to normal. He had walked a few miles every day for years, but after his illness, he could barely walk to his mailbox and back.

While he was in and out of the hospital, I was dealing with extreme fatigue, loss of taste and smell, and feeling overwhelmed because I didn't have the energy to take care of my everyday household duties. I slept poorly and had brain fog most days. Because the virus was rampant in our area, I became a recluse in fear of catching it again. I learned what it meant to be alone and lonely. I am a people person and days of not seeing or talking with another person depressed me terribly. 

Adding to my problems, I hurt my knee that I had injured years ago and it would not heal this time. Soon I was seeing an orthopedic doctor and having injections for the pain in an effort to forestall having surgery. I began physical therapy hoping that would help me grow stronger and more fit.   

My new primary care doctor told me that my fatigue could be caused by the virus I had in 2020. She ordered an Echo Cardiogram because she heard a heart murmur.       

That started me on this long trek from local medical care to Atlanta and heart specialists located in Atlanta where I did not feel comfortable driving. I am grateful for my sister, Gay, and her husband, Stu, who get me down there to the hospital and also have a place for me to stay

While we all thought 2021 would bring the end of COVID, it only brought more confusion and fear of illness. My sister-in-law died in February, and the funeral home streamed the service at our family cemetery which made it possible for me to attend virtually. I am at high risk for COVID and was afraid to attend. 

I was getting over a second round of COVID in January 2022 at my sister's house when I learned that my dear brother had died.

Thankfully, by then I had taken my vaccinations and I used oxygen at home so I didn't end up in the hospital. Still, I was quite sick for several days. I attended his funeral in person in south Georgia.

When people say we have the best health care in the world, they are so, so wrong. I have not been able to speak to a doctor in Atlanta where I have had several expensive tests done in all these months I have been waiting. I found the phone number for a nurse practitioner in the offices of my heart specialist and she has tried to help me get answers, but she says the tests don't show enough heart damage for Medicare to pay for a procedure to fix it. It will get worse in time and then insurance will pay for the procedure I need. As my condition worsens I will have more symptoms. Does that make sense?

Why did it take eight months for them to make a decision? Why didn't a doctor or someone in authority talk to me and explain what is going on?  The NP says she doesn't understand how I "fell through the cracks" and could not get any answers.

My brother's son said to me tonight," When you are an older person who has taken care of yourself so you could live longer, the doctors don't seem to want to help prolong your life. It seems they think you did well to live this long, and we don't need to spend any time or effort to keep you living." 

He told me my brother was sent to a larger hospital from a smaller one in February because he needed to have fluid drained from his lungs. But once he was there, no one did anything for him. He was there for two and a half days before he had a heart attack and died. 

My nephew said the doctors had not even discussed his health or why he was sent there. They simply let him die. After all, he was in his nineties so no need to prolong his time on this earth.

As I enter my senior years, I am seeing the lack of interest the medical world has in my welfare. I plan to have my knee replaced in February 2023. I will go through a difficult recovery and I am prepared for that.

I hope I will be able to walk without pain and live alone again. That is why I am optimistic about 2023. I will teach again and write again and visit with my friends. I will be independent and unafraid. Those are not resolutions. They are my plans. Of course, I don't plan to be ill.

I hope you have good plans for the coming year and that they come to fruition. I would love to hear what you want to do in 2023.

Self-Care in the time of COVID

Soothing scene of a local golf course in winter

I have been a busy and active person the past week.

I went down to Roswell to work with my sister, Gay, and her husband, Stu, finding appliances for the apartment we are creating at their house. I will be able to go down there and stay for longer periods of time when I have my own space with a kitchen, bedroom, and bath. Lexie will have her pet door and fenced area and that will make things much better for Gay and Stu and for me. They take up their area rugs when we visit them now.

I have gone down more this past year because I can't visit with my friends here at home. Although we have been vaccinated, we are still susceptible to being quarantined if we are exposed to anyone who was around another who was exposed. My friend was quarantined for fourteen days when she was exposed at a church group meeting. 

I and many of my friends are limiting ourselves to family only and only those in our family who have been vaccinated. These past two weeks have brought a huge surge in infections and deaths in my little county here in the mountains. Few people are wearing masks when going out to restaurants and other gatherings. I don't understand the thinking of these folks, but I can only take care of myself as best I can.

Today I read an article on Self-Care and decided to make a purposeful goal of doing better at self-care. 

"Just because a behavior is good for you doesn’t make it self-care," explains Brighid Courtney, of Boston, a client leader at the wellness technology company Wellable and a faculty member at the Wellness Council of America (WELCOA). "You need to get some sense of gratification out of it for it to be self-care. Although activities such as running or meditating may be good for your overall health and well-being, if you hate them, then they are not considered self-care.” (If you do find those activities energizing and fulfilling, however, they are potential self-care practices.)

My doctors and Physical Therapists tell me I should walk more. 

Believe me, I would love to walk, but I have horrible pain if I am on my feet for very long and it is pain that does not go away when I stop walking. I enjoy going to a pool and walking in water because that doesn't hurt me, but now with COVID, I don't feel safe going to the pool with strangers. I know you can't catch the virus from water, but those other folks are breathing the warm air that I will breathe, and who knows what they might be spreading? 

Courtney also tells us your self-care routine should make you a better version of yourself. “My rule of thumb is, as long as the activities that you choose are adding to your well-being and are not detrimental to the other areas of your life, then there is a benefit,” Courtney says. “You are better suited to take care of others, foster strong relationships, be resilient, and balance personal and professional responsibilities.”

I totally agree with Courtney. My problem is the things I enjoy and relish in my self-care are mostly sedentary activities. 

Write it down

She suggests we write a list of things we can do for ourselves. Mine will include getting enough sleep, eat at normal mealtimes, spend no more than twenty minutes at the computer before standing and moving around. 

She tells us to "Start by writing down as many things as you can think of that bring you joy, whether it’s the color purple, receiving back rubs, springtime, certain smells, or essential oils."

I do love back rubs and when I go to see my sister, she gives me back rubs. Another reason I will enjoy spending more time there. 

Self-care is more than taking care of your physical health we are told.

“Just eating healthy isn’t enough anymore. Things are moving so fast around us that we need space to self-care and slow down to rest from all the busyness in our lives.” 

I can agree with the slowing down part and when I am home alone, I don't spend my time cleaning my house or working in the yard, but I stay busy with cleaning out files, organizing my writing, going through books to decide which ones I should give away and which ones I just can't part with. 

I enjoy being with people, especially like-minded people such as my writer friends. After an hour or two with them, I am high on life. Did you know that singing is also a way to get high on life?

"Turn up the radio in the car or start crooning in the shower. No matter how out of tune you are, singing can make you feel happier. Choral members who were surveyed said singing put them in a better mood and made them feel less stressed. Singing also can be good for your breathing and posture, as well as your heart and immune system."

Oxytocin is a hormone made in your hypothalamus that causes feelings of love and closeness. When Barry and I sang in the church choir, I floated out on a cloud after rehearsals. I thought it was because I simply enjoyed the people who were there, but now I know it is the singing that changed things in my brain.

Oxytocin improves your mood. Studies show that singing increases oxytocin which gives us a warm, loving feeling.
“All closeness, positive communication, and overall good emotions are connected to oxytocin,” says integrative wellness specialist Frank Lipman MD.

Telephoning Friends

On my list of self-care goals is taking time to call old friends. Although the phone call is not as satisfying as person-to-person meetings, it is good to hear the voice of those who love us and those we love.  Many families meet on Zoom, but my relatives are not keen on that. So, we try to talk on the phone when we can find the time. 

My mother is famous for saying "Don't worry about it."

How I wish I had inherited her calm mind. I get something on my mind that I need to do or don't know what to do, and I get "monkey mind" where thoughts just jump around and won't settle after I get in bed at night. Years ago I was given a small white pill that helped that, but now doctors will not prescribe this for me (or anyone) it seems. For fifty years it worked for me and many others, but now it has been decided it is dangerous. Even my pain doctor will not prescribe it. 

So my self-care attempt is drinking chamomille tea or taking an over-the-counter  medicine that helps me sleep. Sleep is absolutely necessary if you have fibromyalgia as I do. 

One more self-care item for me is to get into my car with Lexie and take a long slow drive on the back roads and hollows here in the Appalachians. We stop and take a very short walk when we find just the right place. That helps de-stress me and is good for her. 

I hope you, my friends and readers, take good care of yourself in the coming week. Let me know how you self-care and how COVID has affected your self-care.

Visit my Writers Circle around the Table site and check out the Roger Carlton page.  www.glendacouncilbeall.com  

www.riceandbeall.blogspot.com 

Venting on Health Care and Negative People

Coming from a family that made it against all odds, I have no patience with anyone who says "I can't, it won't work, this cannot be done," or one who just gives up without trying. My husband was a glass-half-full kind of man. I learned from him and my brothers that being positive and believing I could almost always meant I did conquer the challenges before me.

On more than one occasion lately, as we scoured stores, online businesses, and interviewed every caregiver we encountered, for the best way to help my ailing older sister, I have become frustrated with the negativism we faced.

Perhaps because my sister is an octogenarian, nurses or caregivers, who have dealt with other people her age, want to write her off. That is the only way I can explain their actions. The most recent example came about when my younger sister, Gay, found a brochure at Mobility Express for this piece of equipment that she and I thought was the answer to transferring my sister with the broken hip. When we approached a couple of certified nurse assistants to help us try it out, all I heard was, "That won't work. She can't do that. It ain't gonna work, I tell you."

                    

  A New Place, A New Attitude

I am happy to say that, in a new facility where the staff learned to use the stand-sit transporter, they love it and it makes moving my sister a totally different experience. It is much easier than having her try to slide on a board to transfer from one place to another and safer than having one staff person try to lift her and another move a seat under her. 

                             

The staff at Sunrise Assisted Living did not take the negative attitude of the former CNAs, but learned immediately how to make the new equipment work for the patient.

As I said, I came from a family that didn't except no for an answer until they had exhausted all possibilities. That is how they grew a small company into a top international one. That is why we didn't accept the medical opinion that our mother would be "like a vegetable" for the rest of her life. That is why we took her home, cared for her and she recovered from a ruptured brain aneurysm; she lived happily for ten more years.

Perhaps managers and directors of senior housing could take a more positive view in their training of staff. That might turn around their hopeless outlook for patients and families who only want the best care possible in exchange for the extremely high costs paid to assisted living and nursing homes.

Without a positive attitude June could become discouraged with her health issues but she continues to smile, keeps her sense of humor and concern for her loved ones.

Nothing feels better to me than immersing myself in the 80 plus degree water of a heated pool.
I never liked the intensive heat where I grew up in south Georgia. I loved the mountains' cooler climate, but lately the temps here have risen to the nineties. That means I stay inside. Indoors at my home or inside at Brasstown Valley' s pool, I find ways to make the best of the drought and the heat.

 All anxiety floats away as the warmth creeps into my bones, steals away shoulder pain, knee pain, and pain in my hands from too many hours on my computer. I think doctors should be able to prescribe therapeutic pool exercise, and insurance should pay for it. I'd rather prevent illness or injury than pay thousands of dollars trying to correct the problem.
Wouldn't it be wonderful to have a massage that releases the load of stress we carry around all day, and have insurance pay the massage therapist?  In today's world, we spend millions each year trying to cure illnesses that are often caused by our environment, our relationships, stressful situations at work and at home, and in most cases we don't need the expensive pills given to us by doctors. We can cure ourselves by making lifestyle changes; slowing our pace, learning to rid our bodies and minds of the toxins we ingest every day, learning about our own energy, making good choices.

Until the time comes when we can purchase insurance for methods to prevent illness, I will sacrifice in order to continue my water exercise, get massages to relieve tension and stress, and see holistic practitioners who are enlightened about needs of people today.




My new mantra is: Will the event causing me so much angst be important tomorrow, next week or next year? And my answer is usually, NO!
Sometimes people enter our lives for a reason. When that need is completed, we go on and other people enter our lives for another purpose. Dear friends from many years ago become lost to us. New friends become more special in our lives.
Will my relationship with anyone make or break me in the long run? If I never hear from that person again will my life change for the worse?

 I control my destiny. No one else can ruin my life unless I let them. I will not be a victim. I am a survivor.

Joyce Carol Oates said in her memoir A Widow's Story, "of the countless death-duties there is really just one that matters. On the first anniversary of her husband's death the widow should think 'I kept myself alive.'"

Young Doctors - Mature Patients - Health issues

Young Doctors and Older Patients

By Glenda Beall in 2007



We live in an area with a large number of retirees, but it seems most of the doctors I see are all still wet behind the ears. I’ve lived with this body of mine for over a half century, but the young girl with the stethoscope sized me up immediately, and put on her smuggest smile as I recited to her all the ailments I sought medical help for in the past 10 years. No point in going back any further. I’ve tried that and I’ve seen the eyes glaze like a talk show host who has Bill Cosby for a guest. I could see the wheels turning inside that pretty little head, and I knew she was thinking about how fast she could get rid of me. The doctor wanted to hear about one symptom she could prescribe for right now, get me on my way, so she could get on to the next fifteen minute appointment.

I usually prefer women doctors as I think they might understand a woman’s particular problems better than a man, but a young man or a young woman has no idea what it feels like to be old enough to be a member of AARP. I’ve had medical assistants and nurses talk to me like I was five years old.

“Come on, Sweetie, come right in here.” She held my chart in her hand, but couldn’t call me by name. I’ve been seated between two technicians who acted like I didn’t exist as they talked over my head about shopping or people they both knew. That kind of behavior dehumanizes a person.

Now -- if I were frail and deaf and blind, maybe she would need to talk to me in a way that was different from the way she talked to the 40 year old who came in ahead of me. But I am an active, busy person with a schedule that keeps me going from morning until night. I have no hearing problem. I walk in under my own steam and I can see just fine.

In all the books, magazines, and online websites having to do with being a smart patient, it says take an active part in your health management. Talk freely to your doctor about what you want and need. When I do this, I get an “attitude” from some of the young doctors. It is almost like they are afraid I might know something about my own health that they don’t know, and they feel I’m challenging them. That is the last thing I want to do. Those of my generation have been taught to listen and do everything a doctor tells them to do. Sometimes that can be a big mistake.

An older friend of mine fell last week for no apparent reason. She didn’t trip. She didn’t break any bones. Just got up to go to the bathroom and fell in the doorway. After I talked with her, I found she was taking so many prescription drugs I’m surprised she could get out of bed. Besides two Atavan every day, she took Ambian and 50 mg of Elavil every night. And she couldn’t figure out why she felt so “tired” all day and had no energy.

It breaks my heart to see people, like my eighty-four year old friend, go to the doctor with no advocate by her side. Once she went in to have the batteries replaced in her pacemaker, but she was sent to the hospital for a replacement and an overnight stay. She had no time to prepare mentally or physically and the whole experience was traumatic for her.

“I have to do what my doctor tells me to do,” she said.

My husband Barry fired his doctor and I was proud of him. After a number of years with a man who truly seemed to understand older patients, he had to go to a new doctor in the same practice. Barry is a gentle and charming man, but this young fellow who was cold and unfriendly, told my husband, “At your age, you can’t expect to feel good.” Now Barry has a new doctor who is nearly as old as he is and they get along fine.

I refuse to become a victim of the medical world, but what can you do? If I had a heart attack, I’d need a doctor. If I develop serious symptoms, I need a doctor to diagnose my problem. But I’ve had three members of my family die, not from a disease, but from medical mistakes. One died from being prescribed the wrong drug. My father died from being over-sedated while sick with pneumonia, and one died, not from cancer, but from MSRA, the infection he caught while in the hospital.

My young, arrogant endocrinologist fires off questions so fast I can’t understand them. She doesn’t want to take time to listen, but just wants to pinpoint one symptom and go after it with ten thousand dollars worth of tests. Someday these sassy self-confident doctors will reach my age, if they are lucky. They will look back and realize they could have been a little more considerate and patient with the Medicare group who often don’t have just one problem, but have a number of things going on as time wears on us and eats away at our main frame.

I don’t know what is taught in medical schools these days, but I’m beginning to believe the TV shows are imitating life. The competition and ego evident in medicine is no different than in any business. I believe we have made great strides in caring for seriously ill patients with cancer, heart disease and specialty surgeries, and in other fields, but where are the doctors who want to treat the not so rare common aches or pains or help prevent them in the first place. Where are the doctors who understand why most of us have sleep problems and need a little help getting our rest so we can feel like volunteering at the Food Pantry the next day? What doctor listens when told I have piercing pain in my head for a few days once or twice a year and it has been going on for twenty years. I’ve been told it is some kind of neuralgia, but no one has identified it.

Do I have it now? No. But can I have something for the pain so I can endure it next time? No, just come to see me when it happens next time.

I don’t bother to tell her that it often happens in the night or on weekends or many times when she is not available. What good would it do? I’ll just go to the ER if I can’t stand the pain like I’ve had to do many times before.

I made the mistake of going to a doctor for congestion and a cough which had affected my voice so badly I could no longer sing in the church choir. Now, after three years, about twenty thousand dollars worth of tests, many chemicals ingested from the prescription medicine I’ve taken like a guinea pig, and after seeing three different specialists, I’m told I probably will just have to live with it. I didn’t need to be told, I had already figured that out.

But what can you do when the ENT doctor says the inhalers prescribed by the pulmonologist are causing the throat problem, but the endocrinologist says it is the thyroid gland causing the hoarseness? I want to do what one lovely gray-haired lady told me as we both sat in the waiting room of yet another young lady doctor.

“I just don’t go to doctors,” she said. “I’m only here to bring my sister who had a stroke.”

She smiled and appeared very pleased with herself. I was envious. Later, after seeing the doctor, when I made my appointment for an MRA and an MRI, I wondered what would happen if I fired all my doctors. After all the tests, I know I’m pretty healthy except for a few things I’ve managed for many years already. I know someone who goes to the public health department every so often and gets blood work done, but never sees a doctor.

My favorite medical person is a nurse practitioner who listens and really cares about her patients. I never feel like she is trying to get rid of me so she can get to the next appointment. She allows me to take a part in my own care. She understands when I tell her I know what I need to do about my diabetes, but I need her to order the blood tests. She understands when I get emotional about a loss, and she is sympathetic, not uncomfortable. She understands when I am frustrated with all the tests a specialist ordered which found absolutely nothing, and she assures me that I own my body and can make decisions whether to continue a treatment or not.

If she held seminars and taught some of these young doctors and nurses about bedside manner and how to interact with older people, our medical profession would be enhanced in this area. But who can tell a doctor anything? These fresh-faced kids come out of school already knowing everything ─ everything except how to recognize and respect the needs of older people.