Wednesday, March 25, 2009

A missed call and the riot act is read

While I was at the office today I noticed I'd missed a call from D., but fortunately she had left a voice mail. She had received the recent letter I'd sent; I'd included a small white gold band for her to wear while she was going through treatment so she would know I was with her in spirit. She also laughed and told me to cancel the hair appointments I'd made for the two of us for next weekend. The nurse had told her all her hair would be falling out in about 14 days. Damn! I thought I had longer than that to get her to a salon. Bless D.'s heart, but she is in dire need of a haircut. When there's no money that's not exactly something high on one's list of priorities. Her hair is really too long for a 52 year old woman and it's been colored and is basically dry as hay. Nina at the salon had told me they had an excellent conditioning treatment and I'd hoped to talk D. into a shoulder length cut and a color closer to her natural color. Oh well, guess I'll talk to her and see if she wants to go the wig route.
I tried to call her back a couple of times with no luck, but fortunately R. called me back late in the afternoon. Ohhhhh! He was in a state.
Seems Debbie was in a tremendous amount of pain. What's tricky about her pain managment is that she also suffers from Reflex Sympathetic Dystrophy Syndrome (RSDS) which can cause her to have an episode which results in her blood pressure going through the roof. RSDS is what's known as an "invisible disease" with no outward symptoms. From what I've learned the body experiences some sort of, often minor, injury but has a pain response that is disproportional to the injury...meaning a pulled muscle could feel like you're being boiled in oil. Stress is one of the things that can trigger an episode, which is why D. hasn't worked in three years. She pulled a nerve in her neck several years ago when she couldn't catch her breath. Of course, now with the lung cancer diagnosis, we all wonder if that was the reason she couldn't breathe.
R. said she has three different doctors (one treating her for the RSDS and two from the hospital in Macon where she's had testing done) who all said she should be on Fentanyl for pain and would be happy to talk with Dr. J. Well, apparently Dr. J. did not concur and that set R. off.
R. is a good ol' Southern boy and he basically told the doctor, right there in front of every one in the office, since he was such a know-it-all, R. was going to take her to the ER and get her admitted and Dr. J. could just deal with that! Suffice to say R. didn't use the most genteel of language with Dr. J. and jaws were dropping to the floor.
R. did just as he said...they have D. on some heavy drugs for pain and are getting ready to move her to a room and keep her for observation. I could hear her in the background sleepily saying "Hey, Sheri. Hey Sheri."
Bless you, R.

Next post: I-75 is the seventh ring of Hell

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