Can't read my...can't read my Poker Face!

It is funny. I am not sure why, but for some reason, I am under the impression that I can hide how I feel from people. As if I am not an open book when it comes to my physical and emotional pain. Obviously, since I am writing about this, that is NOT the case, but I think it is still humorous that I try and hide how I am really feeling.

Why do we do that?

Why is it bad to respond to questions like: how are you feeling? or how are you?

What is wrong with me that I think the people that care about me can't handle the truth?

Perhaps it is not that I don't think they can handle it, but maybe it is because sometimes I want to spare them "feeling bad" for me if I were honest. Also, sometimes I think they are just asking, not for the truth, but just to show concern and that they care about me.

My father asks me every morning how I am feeling. Some days I lie and say fine. Others I say okay. (Mornings are not that great for me all around) But he knows I am lying and he can tell every time. It is kind of infuriating. I wish sometimes that I could hide how I feel around him but I guess after being my dad for the last 33 years, he has learned to read me.

So I guess my poker face is not so great. Guess my dreams of becoming a high stakes poker player are out!! It is good that he can read me that well and that he still asks me, everyday, even when he knows I am lying to him...he still asks me. He is an awesome guy and a great dad. I am so thankful for him and my mother, I cannot even begin to express it. I am fortunate to have such wonderful people in my life.

Anyways, just some thoughts...

Wishing you all good humor and good health!

Oh, the hypocracy of the Hippocratic Oath!

Today I had yet another doctor's appointment with my Orthopedic Surgeon. Well, actually, it was with his Physician's Assistant (PA), who is a really nice guy, highly knowledgeable and pretty empathetic...all good qualities for those who are in health care.

Anyways, I arrived right on time, 10:30 am, as I like to be punctual (it is a control thing). My father was the lucky soul who got to drive me to the appointment, as my mother was feeling a little under the weather. He is not the most patient man, and quite honestly, not my first choice to take me anywhere where waiting is required. The man has ZERO patience. So I checked in and took my seat.

A HALF AN HOUR LATER...I hobbled up to the front desk to ask, as politely as possible considering I was in a little pain and the chairs in the waiting room were not all that comfy, when they thought I might be taken back to see the doctor as I had been waiting for over a half hour.

The "snippy" girl behind the glass, who was obviously not enjoying her job that day, tells me that I am next, but that my appointment was not until 11:00 am and therefore, I should be going back momentarily. I corrected her that my appointment was at 10:30. A little argument ensued and finally, I walked back to my chair, a little more irritated and wanting to walk out. Apparently, my appointment was written on my reminder card for 10:30 but put in the system for 11:00. This mistake apparently does not warrant an apology. Okay, whatever.

ANOTHER HALF HOUR LATER...my Dad walks up to "chat" with the snippy girl behind the counter. Well, let's just say, that it is not the smartest thing to do to get attitude with my father. A another little argument ensued where the girl informed my father that they were extremely busy this morning and had already seen 173 patients alone. My father's reply? "Perhaps you shouldn't schedule so many appointments if you don't have adequate time to spend with them. Just a thought." She didn't like my Dad or his suggestions...I could see it in the daggers she shot at him as he walked back to the chairs. I couldn't contain myself...I had to laugh. She assured my father that I was next in line.

TEN MINUTES LATER...my name was called. I jumped up and hobbled my way back behind the desk and followed the nurse to my little room. She asked how I was doing. "Honestly? I am a little irritated. I have been waiting for over an hour out there!" I explained what happened and she, like Miss Snippy upfront, told me that my appointment was at 11:00. I was not about to argue with another dimwit so I just shut up and followed her to my room. She told me to have a seat and the PA would be in shortly. He came in, was in my room for a total of three minutes, left and told me that everything looked great and we were right on track.

THAT'S IT?!?!

I wasted over an hour of my life (more like two hours if you include travel time to and from the doctor's office) for a three minute session with the PA (not even the actual surgeon) so that he could tell me that everything looked good and that he didn't need to see me unless something changes? EXCUSE ME?? WTF?? Why could he have not just asked me a few questions over the phone and made that determination??

So this leaves me to my question...should I send a bill to the doctor's office for my time? Don't you think that it is ridiculous that a doctor can post a sign that states "If you are ten minutes late to your appointment, you will have to be rescheduled", but yet they can make me wait for over an hour and barley apologize? I think that they think their time is more valuable than mine...and I AM PAYING THEM!!!

Here is a thought...the Hippocratic Oath, that all doctors take upon graduation of medical school, states that they will "do no harm." Well as far as I am concerned, I was harmed today with disrespect and rudeness.

It is stupid. It is frustrating. It is something that I guess we all have to deal with, because it will never change. I just think there should be some type of incentive for those who are on time or even early to their appointments, AND there should be some reimbursement for the time wasted on MY dime! It just seems like there should be a specific etiquette for doctors...kinda like the Hippocratic Oath, maybe they should have an oath to make sure that they treat us with the same respect we give them. They are NOT better than us and their time is NOT more valuable than mine. Just a thought.

Well, I will quit bitching...I know this post is angry and a bit negative, but I am not in a great mood. So irritating.

Wishing you all good health and humor...hopefully more of a sense of humor than I had today!!

I'm Baaaaack!

One month has lapsed since my last post. The last you had heard was I went for an MRI, which turned out to be a nightmare in itself, and well, let's just say that all hell broke loose after that.

I got a call the day following the MRI from my friendly Rheumatologist, Dr. Wu, informing me that I had a "non displaced femoral neck fracture" on my right hip. Yep...it was broken! According to the doctors after taking a thorough history, I had apparently been walking around on a broken hip for eight months to a year. Having Rheumatoid Arthritis I am in chronic daily pain, so I had no idea that this pain was anything to be alarmed about. I mean, come on, I am in pain all the time anyways, how was I supposed to know it was broken?

So she sent me to an Orthopedic surgeon the following day, which was a Friday and one day prior to my Happy Birthday party. My orthopedic surgeon is not the most desirable man and has a fairly odd bedside manner, however, seemed sufficiently qualified for the job. He immediately scheduled me for surgery the following Monday afternoon. They needed to put three large pins in my hip to secure the neck of my femur so that it didn't move and would have better time and support to heal. He said I would be in the hospital for a few days and by week two, I should be feeling almost no pain. I was jacked! No pain in my hip was something I have not experienced in a LONG time.



So that weekend, I had my BBQ, played with my friends and family and enjoyed my 33rd birthday overall. I was treated like a princess as everyone waited on my hand and foot. I kept telling them that I didn't need that, since I had been walking on it for the last year, what was one more day or two gonna do? They didn't seem to share my humor!

Monday came and I had the surgery...stayed in the hospital for three days...came home...and now we are three and a half weeks post op! It has been one hell of a three weeks. I have had some complications, I have visited the Emergency Room three times, been readmitted to the hospital for two days, and now have an infection in my incision. The pain has been pretty awful and I have still had to remain quite dependent upon my pain medication, but I am feeling like a ROCK STAR today, which is the reason of course that you are reading this. I have barely moved from bed for three weeks and between the haze of the drugs and the unbearable pain, I have not done much.

Having surgery is never a fun thing to do. I am not sure that I ever want to go through this again, but all I can say is that the only reason I have made it this far is because of my wonderful parents. They have been amazing through this whole thing. They are attentive and caring, and they truly care about how I am feeling and do their damnedest to make sure that I have everything I need. They cook for me, change my sheets, do my laundry, everything except wipe my ass! (Thank God, I can wipe my own behind and shower on my own) They are truly wonderful people and I cannot imagine having better parents or a support system in my life at a time like this. I will never be able to repay them for what they have done for me, but I will spend the rest of my life trying! I am blessed!

Well, I am off to go lay down for a spell...something I do quite often. I cannot wait for the days when I can :drive again, shop again, and cook and clean for myself again. I know it sounds ridiculous but it is something that an independent person such as myself has a problem letting go of. I look forward to the day I get my life back...and fortunately it is coming soon...very very soon!

Wishing you all good health and humor!