October 20th, 2021
Okay then, I just re-read what I wrote here and it's not super-positive sounding - still, be unconcerned. Sometimes these words come from a more emotional place
Incommunicado
Kind of a nothing day. Someone (I think it was the Physician's Assistant) came in to ask about the pain and right side gut discomfort I've been experiencing for the past several days (she merely pointed at that area, so I'll have to assume that's what she was inquiring about). I couldn't specifically hear what she was saying (too loud in here), but she may have said something about my UA results, before wandering off.
Maybe I'm Going to Dry
UPDATE 917AM: new bags arrive!!!
Tomorrow (today), I'll be down to my final formula feeding bag.. which is troubling. I tried calling the supply desk here directly, but they didn't pick up the phone. I honestly have no idea if they've even ordered the bags, much less, the correct ones (if they did).
You see, my formula bags need to be cleaned at least once every 12-hours and replaced once every 24-hours. The reason? Bacterial growth.
If need be, I can survive on straight water (by continuously using tomorrow's bag without formula - won't generate bacterial growth). It's not ideal going without nourishment, but I've got some bodily weight to work with for now.
Or if they aren't IV friendly here (and I'd rather they didn't do that here), they can transport me over to the hospital, so that I can be fed that way (via a TPN line). At least, I think that's an option. Plus the nurses there are familiar and more friendly (males and females equally), so I can up my socialization game while there.
Bush Trimming
Yes, you guessed it… the landscapers trimmed the big bush outside our window. Now I can see a small sliver of sky whenever my dividing curtain is pulled back a fair amount. I can also see Jeff's pale white toes idly twitching. Hmmm… his toenails are far shorter than mine. Should I be jealous? For me, it's been seven months without a toenail trim. Howard Scissor Toes? Maybe?
It's sometimes difficult to hire good help these days.
Sky Report
Today I witnessed a jet leaving a fast retreating contrail behind. Then later, there seemed to be a twin turboprop angling into Deer Valley Airport. Otherwise, hogh ceilings, with scattered Cirrus, with no real wind to speak of.
My Name is Michael Westin
At least he's been watching the good stuff (loudly) today:
"Burn Notice"
It's a cleverly done TV spy series set in Miami, Florida. The lead character is a former spy who has been burned (but not for real… something happened wherein he's no longer a legal card-carrying spy anymore, and being "burned" means he can't be a spy anymore because he's been "burned"). Being burned makes him sad. And angry.
Meanwhile, other unemployed spy friends desperately want to clear his name (no idea why), but it takes all of seven years and 97 episodes to ….
Okay I do not want to ruin it for you.
8 stars out of 5
Highly Recommended!!!
No Contact
No socialization today. And not much ever. I attempt to engage. I do. And it's all about them, when I do. My focus. My asking. It really it is. But there's nothing doing. No one takes the bait.
In every other hospital situation or setting (including home healthcare visits), I've been able to connect. Immediately. With many and most. But here, nobody has the slightest amount of interest or conversational acuity (besides the Psychiatrists, The Therapy Goddess, and the Assistant Coordinator of Nursing).
Well, right, and of course. There's them.
Perhaps the staff senses my underlying depression, or the sadness that is permeating my soul. Or the earmuffs, bandanas, and earplugs I often model frighten them down to the core ...of a rotten apple ..full of seeds containing high levels of arsenic.
Leading into this whole thing, it appears as though I let my expectations get out ahead of me. I am simply a disabled resident, powerless in a place full of powerless people.
We wait. That's what we do.
Speaking of Expectations ..
Sometimes when you know somebody, you send them a text message or an email and they respond. If they do not respond after several attempts over time, you assume something is up. They are either dead, or they no longer wish to associate with you.
But what does it mean when you send someone text messages or emails (and they respond in kind), but they in turn NEVER initiate contact? They never send you a text message or an email to see how you are doing, or even to tell you a story about something that's happened while waiting in line at the grocery store.
And even though they do respond, each response is brief and to the point, no extraneous details. And the conversation ends abruptly.
Yeah, I think I know what this means. And if I were still a real person, I'd have given up on this person (or these people) long ago.
It's Not Over
It may seem as though I am forever lying still (I am), but as soon as I see a doctor here, I am going to really push hard for the muscle biopsy option.
Sleep Initiated: 0113
0533
Another Covid swab. Good morning to me. And within twelve seconds of waking, Jeff fires up the Barnyard Animals Video Game. Quietly, at least.
0611
Take my vitals, please.
Eyes closed, my heavy pillow covers my head, in attempts to annihilate the offending light. Dear Jeff, why are the lights on? There's nothing to see here.
0631
Dammit Jeff, why do we need all the freakin' lights on at this godforsaken hour? Don't you know there's a lightbulb shortage in Omaha? Okay, usually I am up by now… so I must be crabby.
0651
I give up. Put sunglasses on. Finish up blog entry. Entrée. Eat this up. Chin wipe drool dribble drone fan backdrop voices alarms intermittently ringing out beep beep long tones high pitched wailing and the staff goes door to door distributing meal trays, dropping them like bombs from on an alternative plane of existence where they let "them" die, let "them" all perish, and me along with them, as we are no longer able to care for ourselves either way. It's unsettling how this ends for so many. Uncelebrated. Unaccomplished. Unrecognized. Unattended.
At least I know how to ease my suffering. I know where my mind needs to be. I am advantaged in that way.
doom laden scenarios weigh heavy
choose butterfly blight instead
Transmogrification
Gentrification
Be kind to yourself today. Imagine that you are healing (why? ..because you are!). Visualize it. What does healing look like? See yourself in that near future reality. Accept that you are getting better.
H
Okay then, I just re-read what I wrote here and it's not super-positive sounding - still, be unconcerned. Sometimes these words come from a more emotional place
Incommunicado
Kind of a nothing day. Someone (I think it was the Physician's Assistant) came in to ask about the pain and right side gut discomfort I've been experiencing for the past several days (she merely pointed at that area, so I'll have to assume that's what she was inquiring about). I couldn't specifically hear what she was saying (too loud in here), but she may have said something about my UA results, before wandering off.
Maybe I'm Going to Dry
UPDATE 917AM: new bags arrive!!!
Tomorrow (today), I'll be down to my final formula feeding bag.. which is troubling. I tried calling the supply desk here directly, but they didn't pick up the phone. I honestly have no idea if they've even ordered the bags, much less, the correct ones (if they did).
You see, my formula bags need to be cleaned at least once every 12-hours and replaced once every 24-hours. The reason? Bacterial growth.
If need be, I can survive on straight water (by continuously using tomorrow's bag without formula - won't generate bacterial growth). It's not ideal going without nourishment, but I've got some bodily weight to work with for now.
Or if they aren't IV friendly here (and I'd rather they didn't do that here), they can transport me over to the hospital, so that I can be fed that way (via a TPN line). At least, I think that's an option. Plus the nurses there are familiar and more friendly (males and females equally), so I can up my socialization game while there.
Bush Trimming
Yes, you guessed it… the landscapers trimmed the big bush outside our window. Now I can see a small sliver of sky whenever my dividing curtain is pulled back a fair amount. I can also see Jeff's pale white toes idly twitching. Hmmm… his toenails are far shorter than mine. Should I be jealous? For me, it's been seven months without a toenail trim. Howard Scissor Toes? Maybe?
It's sometimes difficult to hire good help these days.
Sky Report
Today I witnessed a jet leaving a fast retreating contrail behind. Then later, there seemed to be a twin turboprop angling into Deer Valley Airport. Otherwise, hogh ceilings, with scattered Cirrus, with no real wind to speak of.
My Name is Michael Westin
At least he's been watching the good stuff (loudly) today:
"Burn Notice"
It's a cleverly done TV spy series set in Miami, Florida. The lead character is a former spy who has been burned (but not for real… something happened wherein he's no longer a legal card-carrying spy anymore, and being "burned" means he can't be a spy anymore because he's been "burned"). Being burned makes him sad. And angry.
Meanwhile, other unemployed spy friends desperately want to clear his name (no idea why), but it takes all of seven years and 97 episodes to ….
Okay I do not want to ruin it for you.
8 stars out of 5
Highly Recommended!!!
No Contact
No socialization today. And not much ever. I attempt to engage. I do. And it's all about them, when I do. My focus. My asking. It really it is. But there's nothing doing. No one takes the bait.
In every other hospital situation or setting (including home healthcare visits), I've been able to connect. Immediately. With many and most. But here, nobody has the slightest amount of interest or conversational acuity (besides the Psychiatrists, The Therapy Goddess, and the Assistant Coordinator of Nursing).
Well, right, and of course. There's them.
Perhaps the staff senses my underlying depression, or the sadness that is permeating my soul. Or the earmuffs, bandanas, and earplugs I often model frighten them down to the core ...of a rotten apple ..full of seeds containing high levels of arsenic.
Leading into this whole thing, it appears as though I let my expectations get out ahead of me. I am simply a disabled resident, powerless in a place full of powerless people.
We wait. That's what we do.
Speaking of Expectations ..
Sometimes when you know somebody, you send them a text message or an email and they respond. If they do not respond after several attempts over time, you assume something is up. They are either dead, or they no longer wish to associate with you.
But what does it mean when you send someone text messages or emails (and they respond in kind), but they in turn NEVER initiate contact? They never send you a text message or an email to see how you are doing, or even to tell you a story about something that's happened while waiting in line at the grocery store.
And even though they do respond, each response is brief and to the point, no extraneous details. And the conversation ends abruptly.
Yeah, I think I know what this means. And if I were still a real person, I'd have given up on this person (or these people) long ago.
It's Not Over
It may seem as though I am forever lying still (I am), but as soon as I see a doctor here, I am going to really push hard for the muscle biopsy option.
Sleep Initiated: 0113
0533
Another Covid swab. Good morning to me. And within twelve seconds of waking, Jeff fires up the Barnyard Animals Video Game. Quietly, at least.
0611
Take my vitals, please.
Eyes closed, my heavy pillow covers my head, in attempts to annihilate the offending light. Dear Jeff, why are the lights on? There's nothing to see here.
0631
Dammit Jeff, why do we need all the freakin' lights on at this godforsaken hour? Don't you know there's a lightbulb shortage in Omaha? Okay, usually I am up by now… so I must be crabby.
0651
I give up. Put sunglasses on. Finish up blog entry. Entrée. Eat this up. Chin wipe drool dribble drone fan backdrop voices alarms intermittently ringing out beep beep long tones high pitched wailing and the staff goes door to door distributing meal trays, dropping them like bombs from on an alternative plane of existence where they let "them" die, let "them" all perish, and me along with them, as we are no longer able to care for ourselves either way. It's unsettling how this ends for so many. Uncelebrated. Unaccomplished. Unrecognized. Unattended.
At least I know how to ease my suffering. I know where my mind needs to be. I am advantaged in that way.
doom laden scenarios weigh heavy
choose butterfly blight instead
Transmogrification
Gentrification
Be kind to yourself today. Imagine that you are healing (why? ..because you are!). Visualize it. What does healing look like? See yourself in that near future reality. Accept that you are getting better.
H
