These past few months have been enlightening about our health care system. Beside a common cold or flu, and a few stress related tensions, I did not need particular medical attention. My yearly check-ups were mainly routine, more preventive than anything.
Then we moved from Montreal to a small village in the the Laurentians, only an hour away from the big City, but a long way if you want to see your family doctor. Anyhow, the commute from the village to my work place would take on average about 3 to 4 hours a day, I never thought this would add to my stress level but it did.
Consequently, I started having some digestive problems, and I started getting these real abdominal pain attacks on a regular basis, mainly at night which meant I did not sleep much. My family doctor gave me a referral to see a gastrointestinal specialist. Each specialist I called had a waiting list of 2 to 6 months for the first appointment. So, I got myself on several lists and finally got an appointment within six weeks. However, before seeing the specialist I had a major painful attack and I went to an emergency clinic in St-Sauveur in the morning around 7:30 only to find out that they were already full, they sent me to the next one in Ste-Adele, same scenario, so I went to Ste-Agathe Hospital where there was a 17 hours waiting period, my case did not seem urgent enough to be bumped ahead; I was in so much pain that the nurse told me to go to Red River Hospital, "there's usually no one there, if you don't mind driving 45 minutes" she told me. (I should specify that if you want to see a doctor at the emergency clinic, you have to be in line by 6 am.)
So, I went to Red River Hospital where I was seen within 2 hours of my arrival, I left with several referrals, one for a scan, another for an ultrasound and some major blood works. Now, getting an appointment for the ultrasound and scan is an other story unto itself, but I am resourceful and again got myself on several waiting lists at different facilities, got the tests done within 1 month, by then I had my appointment with the specialist for my stomach and had to go for a gastroscopy. By the way, if you put yourself on several waiting lists don't forget to cancel the appointments so other people don't lose their turn.
It turned out I had gallbladder stones and an inflammation in my digestive system, nothing major but it took 6 months to get to the bottom of it all, first they had to monitor the inflammation, fortunately that disappeared on its own (I took a sick leave from work, my work related stress level went down, I believe that is how I got rid of the inflammation).
I just had my gallbladder removed this week, I stressed over it for months. The idea of getting a piece of my body cut out was terrifying, Although many people shared their experience of gallbladder removal which did not sound so bad, I was still terrified.
This adventure started in August, and I just had the surgery this week on January 25th. I know, it wasn't life threatening, but this six months of tests and pain was very stressful, when you don't know what is wrong with you, your imagination can provide you with a multitude of scenarios that can be pretty scary. Over all, this waiting game affected my life in myriads of ways. Personally, I wish we could have access to first line care quickly, this would probably diminish the possible stress/strain related illnesses caused by the unknown, this "unknown limbo" can be scarier than the disease itself.
Anyhow, I was fortunate enough that the inflammation disappeared on its own, and the only thing left was to remove my gallbladder.
"My One Day Surgery", you go in the morning at the designated time, and you are out the same day a few hours after the surgery. I was surprised at how efficient the system can be when everything is in motion. You register like in a hotel, they set you up in a cubicle and help you prepare, then I was moved to pre-op where I met with a nurse that double checked my identity and the nature of my surgery (they don't want to remove the wrong parts, a good safe guard to have in place), a few minutes later my surgeon came to talk with me and asked if I had any questions, next I met the anesthesiologist and we went through my medical history, afterwards they wheeled me into the operating room where I was surrounded by the very comforting operating team. From that point on, all I remember is the anesthesiologist telling me she was giving me a welcome cocktail and to let her know when I would start to feel heavy, the heaviness came quickly I tried telling her but I was gone.
Strange how you are totally cut off from the world under this drug cocktail, you surrender yourself completely they could chop you up in little pieces and you would not even know it. When I woke a couple of hours later I had no idea what had been done, except that I still felt heavy and the last thing I wanted at that point was to get up and go home. They don't rush you out, but you know that your welcome is limited and, that eventually you will have to leave. I was given a couple of pages of information on the operating procedure and what I could expect afterwards, side effects and stuff, what was normal or not.
Now I am on day four, and I feel much better. The first forty eight hours are the worst, you still feel the anesthesiology's aftermath lingering on, and the pain slowly comes back to the surface, fortunately they give you pain killers. So, for the first forty eight hours you are basically out. Then, on day 3 you feel like you are regaining some control, you realize that the pain has dulled out and that you don't need to fight it chemically anymore. Day four, your bodily functions reboot and your head is much clearer.
Still, after this semi minor surgery, I come out of this experience thinking that it is better to prevent than to fix an illness. I feel for all those people that have to undergo any type of medical intervention, it is a time when you feel vulnerable and, whether you like it or not, you have to surrender to others to nurse you back to health if possible. Fortunately, the staff at St-Jerome's Hospital was amazing and very compassionate. Even better, I got to find out how good my husband is as a caregiver, a cook and a housekeeper, I sort of forgot over the years while I took over. A blessing in disguise, I don't have to do it all, all the time!
Still, the best gift we can give ourselves is to treat our body with respect and behave in a responsible way towards it by doing whatever is necessary to stay healthy for as long as we can. And, last and but not least, we should be grateful, always.
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Change
“Nobody can go back and start a new beginning, but anyone can start today and make a new ending.”Maria Robinson
My life has been about change. From birth until now, I have been in a whirl of changes. As a child change was forced upon me, as a teenager I embraced it by challenging everything and everyone around me. In my early adulthood I had no directions and no models to follow, therefore my scatterbrain was on hyper alert and with that I made a lot of strange choices that constructed my forever changing life. I won't call my choices bad because some good came of it, they became learning experiences.
One year, I moved seven times, my discouraged girlfriend said "I will need a new address book just to keep up with you." An other year, I changed job about 6 times, talk about lacking stability. I had no goals and no idea who I was or what I wanted to do or be. No sense of self, thanks to those early formative years when no one thought it was important to provide a stable environment for a child. My parents did not have that parenthood bone in them, they were self centered and too emotionally screwed up to raise their kids. So my brothers and I were raised in three different environments. Our parents eventually grew up themselves and made amends, but by then I was in my thirties with kids of my own and struggling to find an identity for myself and my family.
For years I worked in the restaurant industry as a waitress to the dismay of my grandmother who used to freak out every time someone would ask me what I wanted to do when I grew up, I would say candidly "a waitress" and my grandmother would slap me behind the head, she had better plans for me. But, how could she fight with the only happy memories I had of my mother, since the only time I got to see her in my early childhood was when my grandma took me to the restaurant where my mother worked as a waitress until she moved across the country three thousand miles away.
Anyhow, eventually I tired of the restaurant industry and enrolled in an "Office automation course" meaning a secretarial course, this turned out to be a rough ride, but I made it through the intensive 18 months of classes, to finally graduate and find an entry level job that lead me to grow within the company I worked for. Through the fifteen years I worked there I was a receptionist, an administrative assistant, a coordinator, a buyer, a production manager to finally end as a sales representative. This company and its people became my second family.
So, when I reached my forties I still thought everything was possible, I wonder, is forty the midlife part or is it fifty? Either way, now I am faced with more changes, recently unemployed (yes I was let go due the bad economy) I am wondering what my next move should be.
If you believe in numerology, then I am entering a personal year 3, social expansion and creative success. Does this mean that I should get back to painting? I have been thinking about it but not doing it, or should I write, it seems that is what I have been more comfortable doing these days. I started a new blog:
We have to be careful what we wish for because it might very well happen. Although I did not have the courage to quit my job, I did wish for it and, not long after, my job quit me. Consequently opportunities will be knocking at my door and I have to be ready for them.
So now I am wondering, can I both Write and Paint, will I be able to earn a living at it? Whatever I decide, it will require more discipline on my part. These past few months I have been compelled to change, change my eating habits, my life style and integrate more discipline.
Therefore more changes are coming my way.
Funny thing, even though I am familiar with change it is still a bit unsettling. There is always that scary part where you'll have to make a decision that you know will affect the rest of your life, but either way whatever decision one makes you have to be certain that it will be the right one at that time, and from it will sprout a new learning experience that will shape who you are and will become.
So this was my two cents on CHANGE
“What you leave behind is not what is engraved in stone monuments, but what is woven into the lives of others.” Pericles
My life has been about change. From birth until now, I have been in a whirl of changes. As a child change was forced upon me, as a teenager I embraced it by challenging everything and everyone around me. In my early adulthood I had no directions and no models to follow, therefore my scatterbrain was on hyper alert and with that I made a lot of strange choices that constructed my forever changing life. I won't call my choices bad because some good came of it, they became learning experiences.
One year, I moved seven times, my discouraged girlfriend said "I will need a new address book just to keep up with you." An other year, I changed job about 6 times, talk about lacking stability. I had no goals and no idea who I was or what I wanted to do or be. No sense of self, thanks to those early formative years when no one thought it was important to provide a stable environment for a child. My parents did not have that parenthood bone in them, they were self centered and too emotionally screwed up to raise their kids. So my brothers and I were raised in three different environments. Our parents eventually grew up themselves and made amends, but by then I was in my thirties with kids of my own and struggling to find an identity for myself and my family.
For years I worked in the restaurant industry as a waitress to the dismay of my grandmother who used to freak out every time someone would ask me what I wanted to do when I grew up, I would say candidly "a waitress" and my grandmother would slap me behind the head, she had better plans for me. But, how could she fight with the only happy memories I had of my mother, since the only time I got to see her in my early childhood was when my grandma took me to the restaurant where my mother worked as a waitress until she moved across the country three thousand miles away.
Anyhow, eventually I tired of the restaurant industry and enrolled in an "Office automation course" meaning a secretarial course, this turned out to be a rough ride, but I made it through the intensive 18 months of classes, to finally graduate and find an entry level job that lead me to grow within the company I worked for. Through the fifteen years I worked there I was a receptionist, an administrative assistant, a coordinator, a buyer, a production manager to finally end as a sales representative. This company and its people became my second family.
So, when I reached my forties I still thought everything was possible, I wonder, is forty the midlife part or is it fifty? Either way, now I am faced with more changes, recently unemployed (yes I was let go due the bad economy) I am wondering what my next move should be.
If you believe in numerology, then I am entering a personal year 3, social expansion and creative success. Does this mean that I should get back to painting? I have been thinking about it but not doing it, or should I write, it seems that is what I have been more comfortable doing these days. I started a new blog:
www.worriedaboutourworld.blogspot.comabout the environment and what I can do personally to help. Also, I am currently volunteering at the community thrift store and applying to volunteer at the library as well.
We have to be careful what we wish for because it might very well happen. Although I did not have the courage to quit my job, I did wish for it and, not long after, my job quit me. Consequently opportunities will be knocking at my door and I have to be ready for them.
So now I am wondering, can I both Write and Paint, will I be able to earn a living at it? Whatever I decide, it will require more discipline on my part. These past few months I have been compelled to change, change my eating habits, my life style and integrate more discipline.
Therefore more changes are coming my way.
Funny thing, even though I am familiar with change it is still a bit unsettling. There is always that scary part where you'll have to make a decision that you know will affect the rest of your life, but either way whatever decision one makes you have to be certain that it will be the right one at that time, and from it will sprout a new learning experience that will shape who you are and will become.
So this was my two cents on CHANGE
“What you leave behind is not what is engraved in stone monuments, but what is woven into the lives of others.” Pericles
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