I experienced a bittersweet happening this week. The good news is I received my personal Medicare card. The bad news is I received my personal Medicare card. On the one hand -yeah in your face- we boomers are going to be covered by social security and medicare, something we never thought we would see! On the other, I am old, old, old according to some archaic rule of age.
However have you looked at your basic senior citizen lately? They are the ones windsurfing next to you, zip lining ahead of you or running circles around you in a half marathon. Yep, not your father's senior citizen. Which brings up a dilemma - when do we get to just "call it in" so to speak? If all of us seem younger, fitter and more energetic than previous generations, then we also have to maintain that strong, virile activity level when anyone's looking. So many of my compatriots are busily engaging in hobbies they have had scant time to indulge in pre-medicare/SS days. Taking quilting to the next level of competitive contests; creating entire buildings out of their wood carving habit; camping on mountaintops and starting a second career based on their "real" interests.
When do we just admit, I really don't want to do anything or prove anything. I worked; I was successful yet under-appreciated; I nurtured my employees and helped them achieve great things (that was appreciated); I don't need to do anything constructive ever again? My entire working life, I was constantly on-call and engaged in projects and putting out fires for many hours everyday. I have no hobbies to take to the next level and never did. My joy, my fulfillment was in my work - solving problems, creating programs that had never been done before, saving lives. What do you follow that up with? Just got a text from former staff members begging me to "please come back" after a year and a half of being retired! Though the message was half in jest I know the frustrations they feel as people not quite so dedicated or interested take over. Though flattered, I responded "I'm shopping & later having a glass of wine - you want me to give all that up?" They of course said yes, yes we do.
I don't have a strong desire to do anything especially helpful, but I feel guilty when I am not engaged in something constructive. My significant other has tasks that he is always puttering around with and even makes lists. Which really brings out the guilty feeling. I'm totally counting on that feeling to pass. But then he has been at this retirement thing a lot longer. So I guess I will continue playing with my grandson, scribbling in my blog; entering writing contests and reading as much as I can. With age comes wisdom so the saying goes. Here's is the contradiction - your age is your age, but your mind is still 16 or 21 or 30. Always a surprise when it hurts when you get up too fast or can't hammer in the gym like you used to. I refuse to give in to that so that's something. So sue me; at least I still don't look like a senior citizen (give me my fantasies) but sometimes my days are just nothing earth-shattering, I'm not 20, but fulfilling in their own way.
I also give permission for all "seniors" to do whatever the hell they feel like doing and enjoy each day as if it is your last-no excuses.
Friday, July 22, 2016
Friday, July 15, 2016
HOSPITAL GOWNS ARE SILLY
Would anyone find humor in spending a longggg day in the outpatient area of a hospital entertaining someone who is about to undergo a scary procedure? Well I would actually. At least I was entertained as we discussed and giggled over the absurd process. I have been accused of being heartless cracking wise when another loved one was going through childbirth, but that is another story. Though in my defense in my own childbirth adventure the Doc did ask the ceiling if I ever shut up and I totally remember stating that they needed some music to accompany the process along the lines of the "Volga Boat Song" - you know Yo Ho Heave Ho.
Originally scheduled for 3:30 the procedure was not begun until three hours after that. Having arrived at 1:30 as instructed my powers of distraction were tested, but I had help - from the patient! Like a well-oiled assembly line, patients are processed and banded to indicate to security they are to be returned if found escaping, err, wandering aimlessly around the parking lot. Sometimes under the influence of some really cool drugs I am guessing. Then we were whisked to another floor by a volunteer who waited after the original check-in to tell us what window to go to and then escorts us to the next check-in. These have to be volunteers as how would you compensate for basically being a human directional sign?
As patient advocate (cool, I have a title) I am summoned to check-in and instructed as to my duties - essentially entertaining the patient until zero hour and hanging around to take them home. They frown on unaccompanied patients directing their own fates. A heavy responsibility not to be taken lightly. At least until I saw the next patient came in by himself so, so much for that moment of self-importance. I had been previously informed of both my patient's wishes and approved communications upon them possibly achieving a warm nirvana state and to quell curious questions by nosy people. Check and check.
After a long wait (45-60 minutes) while they "prepped" (tortured) the patient I was allowed in to scoff at their hospital dress and be regaled by their description of the indignities performed on their person. I won't go into details, but all procedures are geared to quench any form of rebellion or resistance to the people performing the procedure, Pretty much propriety is sacrificed in the name of efficiency. Something about talking to someone in a backless hospital gown, crazy little slippers lounging on a recliner chair with tubes stuck in them just brings me to a high state of hilarity. I'm sick I know, but at least the patient did not focus on what was to come though I'm sure they thought maybe I should undergo the procedure if only to shut me up.
At one point I remember discussing the shaving that comes with much surgery and our horror that the gentleman directly across from us (no curtain drawn) might be subjected to some type of grooming that would be facing us head on so to speak. That made us laugh so loud I thought they were going to throw us out. But nurses and orderlies in the prep area (yeah just like a kitchen) just said you guys are having a good time.
The delay was so long, they actually closed down the prep area and had to move us to the recovery area. In fairness, there was an emergency that came in who had to go first so the wait was totally understandable. We figured we'd have to quiet down as people were, ahem, recovering but alas the nurses in there were microwaving blueberry muffins and quite jolly and louder than us. Hospitals are like that - no one goes there to sleep. At one point my patient was getting noticeably cold so I went in search of a nurse and stated her lips are blue and before I could get out I need some warmed blankets, she goes "what, she quit breathing?" not terribly concerned. I said no no just cold. See what I mean? They were hilarious, well maybe not to everyone who doesn't feel good, but we enjoyed it.
Finally off our patient went after everyone was gone but our little party. They said an hour and a half so we went in search of food before the cafeteria closed. Yum hospital food-not always recognizable but always bad. I stick to sandwiches & containerized yogurt from the cooler. After a bite and a seat outside until we warmed up-why do hospitals keep the temperature at 20 below - we went back to the waiting room and found everything closed and lights out. UH OH. Found the light switch and an orderly who said "can I help you?" I said waiting on our patient to be done (kitchen talk again) He says oh every one's gone from back there. Ahh another UH OH. We did convince him to check again because see the patient is up there on the computer screen status "having the procedure" so if every one's gone she is apparently wielding the knife herself which should give us a break on the bill.
OK our patient is now outside the door - oh on a bed being pushed by the nurse- and off we go to a room so she can lay still for 2 HOURS. Of course I was up for the challenge and we had another round of hysterical conversation between sips of orange juice which I will tell you is extremely difficult to deliver when someone is laying flat. As she was such a good patient and we were obviously such good caretakers they reluctantly released her to our care and we all celebrated with chocolate shakes and malts the preferred "I've just had a medical procedure" reward.
Originally scheduled for 3:30 the procedure was not begun until three hours after that. Having arrived at 1:30 as instructed my powers of distraction were tested, but I had help - from the patient! Like a well-oiled assembly line, patients are processed and banded to indicate to security they are to be returned if found escaping, err, wandering aimlessly around the parking lot. Sometimes under the influence of some really cool drugs I am guessing. Then we were whisked to another floor by a volunteer who waited after the original check-in to tell us what window to go to and then escorts us to the next check-in. These have to be volunteers as how would you compensate for basically being a human directional sign?
As patient advocate (cool, I have a title) I am summoned to check-in and instructed as to my duties - essentially entertaining the patient until zero hour and hanging around to take them home. They frown on unaccompanied patients directing their own fates. A heavy responsibility not to be taken lightly. At least until I saw the next patient came in by himself so, so much for that moment of self-importance. I had been previously informed of both my patient's wishes and approved communications upon them possibly achieving a warm nirvana state and to quell curious questions by nosy people. Check and check.
After a long wait (45-60 minutes) while they "prepped" (tortured) the patient I was allowed in to scoff at their hospital dress and be regaled by their description of the indignities performed on their person. I won't go into details, but all procedures are geared to quench any form of rebellion or resistance to the people performing the procedure, Pretty much propriety is sacrificed in the name of efficiency. Something about talking to someone in a backless hospital gown, crazy little slippers lounging on a recliner chair with tubes stuck in them just brings me to a high state of hilarity. I'm sick I know, but at least the patient did not focus on what was to come though I'm sure they thought maybe I should undergo the procedure if only to shut me up.
At one point I remember discussing the shaving that comes with much surgery and our horror that the gentleman directly across from us (no curtain drawn) might be subjected to some type of grooming that would be facing us head on so to speak. That made us laugh so loud I thought they were going to throw us out. But nurses and orderlies in the prep area (yeah just like a kitchen) just said you guys are having a good time.
The delay was so long, they actually closed down the prep area and had to move us to the recovery area. In fairness, there was an emergency that came in who had to go first so the wait was totally understandable. We figured we'd have to quiet down as people were, ahem, recovering but alas the nurses in there were microwaving blueberry muffins and quite jolly and louder than us. Hospitals are like that - no one goes there to sleep. At one point my patient was getting noticeably cold so I went in search of a nurse and stated her lips are blue and before I could get out I need some warmed blankets, she goes "what, she quit breathing?" not terribly concerned. I said no no just cold. See what I mean? They were hilarious, well maybe not to everyone who doesn't feel good, but we enjoyed it.
Finally off our patient went after everyone was gone but our little party. They said an hour and a half so we went in search of food before the cafeteria closed. Yum hospital food-not always recognizable but always bad. I stick to sandwiches & containerized yogurt from the cooler. After a bite and a seat outside until we warmed up-why do hospitals keep the temperature at 20 below - we went back to the waiting room and found everything closed and lights out. UH OH. Found the light switch and an orderly who said "can I help you?" I said waiting on our patient to be done (kitchen talk again) He says oh every one's gone from back there. Ahh another UH OH. We did convince him to check again because see the patient is up there on the computer screen status "having the procedure" so if every one's gone she is apparently wielding the knife herself which should give us a break on the bill.
OK our patient is now outside the door - oh on a bed being pushed by the nurse- and off we go to a room so she can lay still for 2 HOURS. Of course I was up for the challenge and we had another round of hysterical conversation between sips of orange juice which I will tell you is extremely difficult to deliver when someone is laying flat. As she was such a good patient and we were obviously such good caretakers they reluctantly released her to our care and we all celebrated with chocolate shakes and malts the preferred "I've just had a medical procedure" reward.
Friday, July 1, 2016
Nature Nurtures
It's raining. Those two words are followed by the distinct sound of frantic plants making noisy sucking sounds. You think I am kidding? I distinctly heard leaves unfurling, bird bath splashing and blades of grass going ahhh, which when they do it all together, sounds rather delightful. It has been many weeks of beautiful, sunny and extremely dry weather. Some grasshopper-mentality greenery greedily drank and spilled in their moment of over-abundance. Silly plants don't know most rain this summer has been stingy and short-lived. The wiser ones sip and store, sip and store. They know the promise of further life-giving sustenance may become stingy once more.
I never realized how much I would welcome the sound of a strong steady rain until I looked at the copper colored lawn and some shriveled plants. Although some plants are bursting at their proverbial seams. Hostas for some reason are becoming gigantic, though no flower buds yet. The day lilies are spilling over with eager yellow heads. Weeds for some reason seem to savor the dryness with subdued chuckles at the fate of their weaker more cultivated cousins who require so much more to survive. Rather a metaphor for people I suppose. The have-nots know how to get by with much less through necessity and are not easily thrown by life's dispassionate division of the spoils.
Yes, it's raining. Rejoice and refresh in the moment, but save a little for leaner times my friends.
I never realized how much I would welcome the sound of a strong steady rain until I looked at the copper colored lawn and some shriveled plants. Although some plants are bursting at their proverbial seams. Hostas for some reason are becoming gigantic, though no flower buds yet. The day lilies are spilling over with eager yellow heads. Weeds for some reason seem to savor the dryness with subdued chuckles at the fate of their weaker more cultivated cousins who require so much more to survive. Rather a metaphor for people I suppose. The have-nots know how to get by with much less through necessity and are not easily thrown by life's dispassionate division of the spoils.
Yes, it's raining. Rejoice and refresh in the moment, but save a little for leaner times my friends.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
