Three Days after Surgery

Gay and Lee are here for me.

Today is Saturday, February 4, three days after my knee replacement. It is amazing what the medical world has learned about joint removal and replacement. Until I had this procedure forced upon me by a knee that refused to heal properly after an injury, I had no idea what knee replacement entails. 

If I had known how painful the recovery would be, I might have decided to continue limping in pain, taking drugs to help me walk. and just missing out on the life I once lived. Of course, it is too soon to know how well I will manage with this foreign material replacing my bones, but I feel confident that life will be better.

You might have had joint replacements. It is being done for the shoulders, hips, and other parts of our bodies. I have only seen and heard high praise for the results. 

The team at Dr. DeCook's office did all they could to prepare me for what was ahead. They are known for having good recovery results and I hope mine will be one of them. 

There were only a few things I wish I had been able to discuss with them before the surgery, but I will carry on as best I can to manage my pain that is not related to the surgery. Having lived with chronic pain for so many years, I know my body and what it needs better than this knee surgery team anyway.

In today's world, it seems every patient is treated just like the one before him and the one after him. I was told when Barry was diagnosed with lymphoma that there was a protocol of treatment that everyone was given and he would receive it. But his case differed from others and no one seemed to know what to do next. I have since learned that cancer is not always a one size fits all. Each of us should be treated in the best way for our disease and our body. 

The number one person you need if you have knee surgery is your advocate, your caregiver, who will be with you day and night, at least for the first few days. When you can't walk and take care of your simple needs, there must be a person by your side to help. Often patients fall after surgery when they think they can walk and go to the bathroom alone. A fall sets one's recovery back and increases the need for better care. I was told that the patient must not try to do too much at first. It is as important to take it easy and rest as it is to push yourself to do more.

I have the highest admiration and praise for nurses, caregivers, and advocates for the sick and injured, elderly and young, who constantly do their best to make a better life for others.   

I have been a caregiver for loved ones and I have watched the pain and frustration endured to help someone get through a hard day and night. Watching someone you love suffer is the hardest thing in this world, I think. Today when many nurses have burned out or have decided they need a respite from the death and suffering of the past three years, my sympathy goes out to them. A human being with a caring and empathetic spirit must take time to replenish their own well so they can go back to caring for others.

I am very grateful I have my sister, Gay, my niece, Lee, my brother-in-law, Stu and others who are there for me in my time of need. I am surrounded by loving and caring people. I can't ask for more.

Have you been an advocate for a loved one when they were sick, or cared for strangers who were in need?

There are no Dumb Questions

A Hospital is not my favorite place for hanging out, but I waited with my two nieces and a friend from four o'clock until 9:30 p.m. when my sister came out of surgery. If you have ever had a loved one in the hospital and undergoing surgery, you know the tension you are under and the worry that niggles at your mind while you pass the time trying to read or watching mindless TV.

Some people place complete confidence in the staff of the hospital and believe them when they tell you what will happen. I, on the other hand, am suspicious of anything I hear. This is because I have seen many errors made by well-meaning doctors and nurses.

Before my sister was taken to the operating room, her nurse asked her, "Which leg is broken and needs surgery?" My sister told her it was the right one. "Good," she said. "They will ask you that before they put you under, so remember to tell them it is the right one."

My niece laughed at this and said, "I don't believe they would make a mistake. This boot is on her right leg."

I said that would seem obvious to us, but many times in the operating room, wrong legs have been amputated, breasts have been removed that were not diseased, and other things that we assume could never happen. They now mark with a marking pen the correct limb for the surgeon to work on.

The nurse agreed. "You don't assume that in the operating room they will know." 

My worry was put to rest when the surgeon came into the pre-opt room and asked for a marking pen. He had to go out and find one, but then he did make a mark on the correct leg. I was told they also go through a check list before they begin to make sure everyone knows what is going to happen and to be prepared for anything that might go wrong. 

I felt good about the procedure. The surgeon was thorough and I had confidence in him. After the two hour operation, he came to the surgical waiting room and talked to us and explained how well she had done. He said we would be called when my sister was put back in her room.

From that point on nothing went according to what we had been told. We waited two hours and no one called us. I called the CCU and was told she had just been brought to the room and they would call us when we could come in. We were also informed we should have been in the second floor Family Waiting room instead of the first floor surgical waiting room. I guess, if we had not called, we could have sat there all night. We went to the correct waiting room, and still no one came to get us. We waited another hour until one of our party decided to see what was happening. She went to the unit and found my sister in a room.
She found a nurse who said, "We were not told there was family waiting." Finally, we got to go in and see my sister. 

Those kinds of things make me suspicious of a hospital. The CCU nurse said my sister was not brought back to the unit after surgery. She was left in recovery until someone from CCU went down to get her. We don't know how long she was in recovery while we waited and she waited to be put in a room. All of these mishaps prolonged our worry, made my sister more uncomfortable and left me worrying about her care. 

These are the reasons I don't assume things will go on as planned in a hospital. No one intentionally goofs up, but often they don't pay attention to important details. No questions are dumb questions when one is acting as an advocate for a sick relative or friend, and many times if we don't ask them, our patient gets poor medical care. Perhaps it takes some bad experiences to learn this lesson, and I have had my share of bad medical experiences. I'm thinking of writing a book on the medical mistakes I've witnessed. Some of them resulted in the loss of lives.

Have you ever had scary mistakes made in hospitals or nursing centers? 

Multiple Chemical Sensitivity - Help may be on the way

Clean air - precious clean air -photo by Barry Beall


I have written about the dangers to me and many others who suffer from severe allergic reactions to the chemicals pervasive in our world today. In the past, while EPA knew of the dangers to the public from products made with certain chemicals, they were unable to do anything about it. Therefore I am delighted to read the following:




“In a speech to the Commonwealth Club of San Francisco on September 29th, 2009, EPA head Lisa Jackson announced an extraordinary series of new principles to guide the development of new, stronger chemical laws.


These principles call for the EPA to be given the authority to make regulatory decisions based on scientific assessments that reflect the need to protect human and environmental health. Manufacturers should supply the agency with the information necessary to prove that both new and existing chemicals do not endanger the public or the environment. This information should address specific potential risks to sensitive groups like children. When manufacturers do not submit this information, the EPA should be legally permitted to demand it, and it should be allowed to revisit chemicals already approved as needed.


The principles also say the EPA should have authority to take action when chemicals do not meet safety standards and should take into account considerations like children's health, social benefits, and equity concerns. It should be permitted to prioritize chemicals for review and set clear deadlines for compliance. Stricter requirements should be established for manufacturers who wish to hide "trade secrets" from the agency and the public, and health and safety data should always be disclosed."


Recently I read where a manufacturer plans to produce books for children - books with "fragrance" or chemical odors. The immune system of a child, like that of an older person, is not as strong as an average adult. These chemical smells that children will be breathing can compromise their immune systems and bring on the lung problems so many children are experiencing these days.


Those of us, who are extremely sensitive to the overwhelming presence of chemicals in our environment every day, are like the canary in the coal mine. Those who do not yet suffer as we do, should pay attention. What are you breathing into your lungs? Do you have headaches, coughs, and nasal problems you can't explain? Maybe it is the cleaning products used in your home or office. Maybe it is your own hairspray or cologne. Could it be your inside air is polluted by chemicals like "air fresheners"  "carpet deodorizers" or the chemicals in your fabric softener or laundry detergent?


When reading Oprah magazine gave me a blinding headache, it did not take long for me to realize it was the perfume ads with fragrances that exploded when I opened the pages.


If one is not concerned about the dangers to his or her own family from the chemical fragrances and cleaning supplies on the market today, it would be kind and considerate to think about others who might be.
Especially I wish waitresses, nurses, and staff in medical facilities, would leave off the perfume while at work with the public. The patient is trapped in a position where she cannot breath, where she knows that contact with the chemical fragrance will cause days of illness and sometimes major medical bills.
Although I listed my allergies to fragrance on my pre-op form before eye surgery, the nurse who came and took me to the operating room, who read out loud to me my allergies, said, "Oh, I don't have on fragrance, do I?"
"Yes," I said. She then laughed, "I bathe in -------- and I've been told it stays with me. I'll just get behind you and it won't bother you."


I was trapped on a gurney, an IV in my arm, on my way to surgery. I pulled the sheet over my face in an effort to filter the chemicals I was inhaling. Sadly, I've learned that hospitals and medical facilities are the worst places for folks with chemical sensitivity. MCS is a known problem, but no one seems to understand the seriousness until they become sick with it themselves.


To learn more click here.

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.