August 23, 2002 |
The Adventures of Paisley
Blue
Wednesday I went to work as usual but by 10 am I was fighting for breath. Everyone was expressing concern over my horrible cough, and my supervisor suggested that I give my doctor's office a call. Being a good girl, I did that.
The nurse told me it sounded like I was in distress again. She set up a 10:40 am appointment for me which meant for me to get my butt there asap. I reassured everyone I'd be back in a few hours, and I took off for the doctor's office.
I never went home that day. It turns out that I was not responding to the breathing treatments in the office. X-rays showed no sign of infection or pneumonia or anything so this was all just asthma. They admitted me and I sat in the doctor's office for hours waiting for a bed.
The whole idea behind admitting me was to be able to put me on an IV and give me a burst of steroids to get my lungs opened up. It took them a while to get that going but once it was done, it worked like a charm. The only problem is that with those doses of steroids, blood sugars spike through the roof.
I pretty much expect anymore that when I'm inpatient, they're going to put me on insulin. That's just how it is. Well, this time when they went to discharge me, I was told that they wanted me to be on insulin at home for the entire two week period that I was going to be on the Prednisone steroids. You know what? For the first time in my life, I did not object to the idea of being on insulin.
Gee, what happened to change my mind? I think it has something to do with being sick and tired of being so sick and tired. I want to be well again. I will do what it takes to be well again. As much as humanly possible anyway. The sad thing is that I don't have the funds to get all the paraphenalia so it'll have to wait until at least Monday when I see my doctor again. Hopefully she'll be able to help me score some stuff.
While I was in there I tried to the nicotine patches for the first time. They worked! It did not stop my psychological craving for the cigarette, but the physical cravings were a lot easier to deal with.
Thursday I was released from the hospital. For some crazy reason I thought I'd go on into work on Thursday afternoon, but once I got home I realized I just wasn't up to it. My supervisor thought I was crazy for thinking of trying that anyway. So I planned to go in on Friday -- today.
The only problem with that plan is that I did not get my prescription filled when I got discharged yesterday, so this morning I was starting to have more trouble breathing. I couldn't go in... I could barely walk from the bed to the bathroom. However, I was pushing myself but trying to not push myself too far... I just cannot allow myself to become an invalid or something. On top of everything, I'm trying to quit smoking.
I must be crazy but since I don't have the patch today it is almost impossible to resist the urge of smoking a cigarette. I just got out of the freaking hospital, and I still have lots of trouble breathing, and yet I still want a smoke? Problem is that the patch has to be pre-authorized with insurance so I can't get those til next week either. In the meantime, I only give in to the urge to smoke about one out of every 10 times or so. I figure that's better than not resisting at all.
Now if this were the only thing I were dealing with, then okay, I could probably handle it with flying colors. However, there's been a lot of stress around the house lately, particularly between Michael and Mechanic. I'm not sure what's going to happen but something has got to give; something has got to change. I know I don't like the stress and I'm sure no one else does, either.
But while I was in the hospital, the guys were cool. They came up and visited me, and talked with me on the phone when they couldn't be there. I had an incident involving my roommate - I did not have a private room this time. She had a ton of visitors and I had a panic attack. I left my bed and wandered the halls looking for a safe, quiet place to sit. The nurses found me, listened to my complaint, but there were no private rooms available... so they said.
I survived though, especially after they gave me some Ativan (I think that's what it was called). They said it was a pill to relax me. I felt like Alice in Wonderland. "This is a pill to help you breathe... this is a pill to make you calm..."
I went into the office today and shocked everyone who saw me. I really needed to pick up my expense check so I could fill my prescriptions. Sharon, my supervisor, helped me out in another completely unexpected way, which was very needed and timely, and when you're in a position where you need that kind of help it is foolish to turn it down.
So... part two of this soap opera goes like this.
Earlier in the week Michael told me he was giving me $200 towards rent. I was planning to use part of that to help purchase the syringes and insulin that will be needed after I see the doctor on Monday. Well, all the sudden he doesn't remember saying that and he starts to throw a fit about never having said he'd give me that much and maybe he should just give me his whole paycheck. Oh my god!! I don't need this drama right now.
It IS true that he has been bringing food and cigarettes into the house. However, it is also true that each and every one of us has been contributing. Every time Mechanic earns any amount of money he automatically uses it for the household. He does not even hold five dollars back for himself. I'd say 90% of my income goes towards the family, too, in one way or another, whether it's rent or utilities or food or whatever. So Michael's little fit wasn't sitting too well with Mechanic and I.
Personally I think that the prospect of having a handful of bills was much more enticing than splitting it in half, and Michael just didn't want to give it up. But I don't know. He ended up telling us that he only received $104 for a full week's worth of work. Without putting it all in here, let's just say he told us a lot of stuff, and it did not add up. He did give me half of his paycheck - a whole fifty-two dollars - if that is indeed half of what he made. It'll be enough to help but it really doesn't equal his share of rent and expenses.
Mechanic called him on it and Michael just flew off the handle, making all kinds of comments and accusations. He said the wrong things, too. Michael crossed the line and Mechanic basically was ready to throw Michael's stuff out onto the street. I managed to get the two of them calmed down just enough to talk with me and agree that Mechanic would not throw his stuff out and Michael would be here in the morning to pick his stuff up.
Michael is out and doesn't plan to be back this evening. Mechanic and I are cleaning the apartment like it hasn't been cleaned in an age. We're doing every bit of laundry and just turning this place inside and out. Mechanic's actually been pretty cool about asking me to do things that I can handle, and no pressure about how often I have to sit and take breaks and use my inhaler.
It's already looking better, smelling better, and just plain old feeling better in here. It's almost like a weight has lifted in the atmosphere of our home. That's it! That's what is different! It feels like our home again. All of this because of an agreement for Michael to move out? Hmmm... gives pause for thought.
I better end this now before someone starts offering me a book deal. LOL
I'll try to write more tomorrow. Oh Yeah. Tomorrow is a big party at Wisdom's house. Perhaps I'll write after the party because I'm sure interesting things are going to happen there. :-)
~Paisley Blue
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based on the "Femme Aux Coquelcots" lithograph
created by Alphonse Mucha in 1898.
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