7.31.2007

Post Op Day 6

5 library books, 3 PBS movies, 4 Blockbuster rentals, the entire Harry Potter DVD set, several naps, 1 bouquet of roses, and a gerber daisy later, I'm only at POD #6. Sigh...

I don't see how shut-ins do it. Knowing that I only have a few more days of official house confinement and a few more weeks of crutch confinement makes staying inside bearable. After all, I do need to catch up on my knowledge of certain important subjects...like planting an organic garden (in my non-existant lawn), the Holy Spirit, and Harry Potter. But to do this day after day, with decreased mobility, and no prognosis for things ever changing....no wonder rates of depression and suicide are higher in the elderly. And the sitters...fot those families who don't have the means to hire others to help take care of their loved ones...imagine the physical, mental, and emotional strain of having to always be present to care for someone. You'd think someone would start a volunteer service like a "Sitters' Day Off" similar to the "Moms' Day Out" programs already in existance. Or maybe someone should make "shut-in" packages to take to local shut-ins filled with games, novels, projects, etc....better yet, why not visit those people?

And what about people without the insurance to pay for crutches, walkers, boots, etc...? Do they just lay around and suffer? What happens to all the barely-used crutches, walkers, boots, etc. once people recover?

Just some more musings...

Currently reading: NMBE Step 2 Score
Just read: God, Medicine, and Miracles Dan Fountain, MD
Currently listening: Lucinda Williams
Currently watching: the dead leaves that need to be trimmed on my herb plants

7.29.2007

Throwaway

I don't understand the allure of becoming addicted to "happy perscription pain meds." So far, they haven't made me very happy nor have they alleviated much pain; however, they have provided for some interesting eyes-closed entertainment ie dreams. I think my favorite thus far has been my uncle giving me a tour of the plumbing on his latest architectural project: a life-size reconstruction of Noah's Ark while a few of my relatives and a former African missionary chatted about how my long-since-been-sold horse has grown a thick coat of hair. I had no idea Noah's Ark had "indoor" plumbing...

Of course being off of my feet for the past few days has given me ample opportunity to think about others who have been off their feet. I don't understand the faith of many of the people Jesus healed, who somehow managed to recognize that their spiritual health was more important than whatever physical ailment caused them so much physical and emotional pain.

And then there's the rich man and Lazarus, the Lazarus who laid at his gate each day covered in sores, too weak to even fend off the dogs who licked his sores. Yet everyday the rich man ignored Lazarus, to the rich man he was invisible, a throwaway member of society. We were discussing this parable last Sunday and I've been thinking about it the past week. Who are the throwaways in my life? Obviously, our society considers the homeless and drug addicts throw aways.

What about immigrant/migrant workers? What about the mentally ill? What about the disabled? What about the sullen teenager behind the register at the local grocery store? What about the veteran wandering the campus at Mountain Home? What about the pregnant 18 year old about to give birth to her second child? Or the drunk twenty-something down in the trauma bay cussing every doctor who comes within two feet of him? What about the single mom or elderly widow at church? Are these people who mean nothing to me or to the rest of society? Should they? And what about those who seem to like being seen as a throwaway or worthless? How should I view those people? I still have a lot of thinking to do...back to the couch...

Just Read: Not All of Us Are Saints: A Doctor's Journey with the Poor, David Hilfiker, MD

7.18.2007

Don't Bet on It

If you ever decide to go to the races (horse races), find out which horses the doctors and meteorologists are betting on, and don't bet on them. Despite the conglomeration of plastic, metal, and electronics known as technology at the disposal of each, they often are inept at predicting the weather, a patient's outcome, or the future in general. Place your dollars on another horse.

In addition to learning that doctors and meteorologists are poor predictors of the future, I've also realized that there's a lot of things I don't understand about the future, or the brevity of life, or life in general. I don't understand why a lady would be one moment dying with almost no chance of surviving surgery, and a few hours later be quietly sedated on the vent in ICU. I don't understand why another lady a few weeks before might have been in the same OR undergoing a simple, elective procedure and die of major complications a few days later. I don't understand why a man placed on hospice care with a 3-5 week maximum prognosis to live, 10 weeks later is sitting in bed more concerned about whether or not the mole on his face is cancerous than the fact that he "should" have died 5 weeks ago. I don't understand why a guy can subsist for years on a diet of burgers, ice cream, and cigarettes and suffer with n more medical problems than a few extra pounds and some shortness of breath while a marathon runner with no health problems suddenly dies while out on a morning jog.

I suppose there's a lot in life that doesn't make sense, there must be something bigger than me since despite my knowledge and the available technology I can't even tell what the next day will bring for a patient, prayer changes things, and that all this being realized I shouldn't worry about what might happen and just enjoy whatever does happen today. So I suppose I should live each day as if tomorrow may not come (does this mean I can eat ice cream and brownies everyday and not feel guilty?) and enjoy whatever life brings me at the current moment.

Enjoy today, and don't bet on my horses...

"So teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom." Psalms 90:12