When I say Noro, you say Virus!

It's the daycare provider version of Marco Polo.

Ugh.

I'll spare you most of the details.

But I wasn't feeling right on Friday afternoon. I got COLD sweats twice while working, but I was moving furniture and setting up program, so I didn't pay much attention to it even though it's weird to have cold sweats... it just didn't occur to me.

About 5:15 I started having a bit of cramping in my lower intestinal region.

By the time I got in the car a little after 6 to make the 35 minute drive home, I was worried that I might not make it home in time. I was trying to figure out what to do, would it be easier to just hope I made it home and not take the time to try to get off the freeway and back on? And if I stopped somewhere, would I be stuck there indefinitely? What was going on felt unpredictable.

I made it home. Just.
Then I spent the next three hours in the bathroom, tossing ballast. 
I threw up with great enthusiasm. Or maybe it was just volume? 
Other things occurred. Blech.

I have been sick this entire weekend. Fever. Mostly sleeping or lying down, I seem to feel a little better that way. I'm grateful that the vomiting was a singular occurrence. The rest, well, it seems to finally be better. I don't remember how much Imodium I took.

The first time I had this, it was actually four days of vomiting until I finally listened to Eric and went to the emergency room on Saturday morning. I had no frame of reference for it... my past illnesses like this had been get sick, feel better in a day or two... not vomit every 15 minute to half an hour for four days. I was starting to feel a little better periodically so I kept telling Eric I was fine and didn't need to go to the doctor.
He was right, I was wrong.

They gave me 2 liters (!!!)  of IV fluids and some kind of narcotic thing that stopped the puking. I was grateful and mad at myself that I hadn't gone in for help sooner. I vowed never to let something go like that again.

Checked in with my doctor the following week and we discussed Imodium use (use it each time *it* happens). She told me she had some patients who didn't understand that it might be a few days before they had to go again after taking it, so then they took a laxative and ended up in a cycle, but not to worry about taking it as needed. She also told me that if I ever threw up for 24 hours to seek medical attention, a decision I'd already made.

So it's been an awful weekend. 
It's really sad that I don't feel like I can take a day off for illness, too. My assistant is a great kid. But he's not up to running things and someone from the management team would have to spend the whole afternoon there, there are always a bunch of people who can't make it to work on any given day, and it's a hardship for my employer when people don't make it to work. 

I have a dental appointment on Tuesday and requested that day off six months ago, but unless I'm doing a LOT better tomorrow (or today as you read this, I guess, setting it to post Monday) I'm going to have to call and let them know I can't make it anyway. 

If my bathroom issues are resolved, I'll go in, but I don't want to right now, still feeling really weak and wimpy. 
I know my fever seems to be gone. It was pretty big for awhile.

On the good side, I've just updated my site guide (a sort of instruction manual for anyone who works at my site) and when William and I went and did a reorganization of that back room, I made a big box of miscellaneous crafty stuff and labeled it 'sub box'. Anything in there is fair game for projects. The kids aren't bored anyway. Lots of things to do on regular days.

So I'm hoping that I feel a LOT better and can make it to work. And hoping that William isn't sick, too. 'Cause of course I picked up the illness from the germy butt-diggin' booger picking coughing sneezing little weasels I hang out with every day. He's been exposed to the same stuff. Yippee.

If you missed the post about Andre that I posted on Sunday, do scroll down and read it. I'm doing everything I can to make my program a good space for him, he deserves the support. He is a good kid, I have thought that from the beginning. Definitely takes some getting used to, though. And allowances have to be made. He has loud outbursts and sometimes doesn't know the appropriate response to things.

Honestly, can't you say that about almost everyone you know? 

Occupational hazards, care packages and my wild child...

I just got over Covid a couple weeks ago.

No, I don't have it again. Or at least I don't think so. What I have is a sore throat, exhaustion and a fever.
I spent most of Saturday sleeping after going to bed super early (for me)Friday night, 9:30.

I slept for about 18 hours with a few pee stops in between. It was after 2 PM when I got up for the afternoon. I didn't eat anything at all, although I had some gatorade about 8 this morning.

I know illness is an occupational hazard. I do what I can. I'm paranoid about washing the end of the table I use while checking kids in/admin stuff. We have a hospital sanitizer that we spray on the tables. Spray on, leave it a couple minutes, wipe it off.

I remind my young humans to please sneeze or cough into their elbows. Quite often they try, but being young humans means they're not experienced with that and they often blast a big puff of warm air in my direction. They're not doing it on purpose.

On Tuesday I was helping one of my little guys with a project at the table. He put his arm up right after he coughed in my face. I remember thinking I was going to end up with his sore throat.

I was right.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Still missing my assistant.

We're going to make him a care package this week, go around with a big card to the school personnel who are acquainted with him and let them sign it as well as putting it on the parent table for the parents to sign.

The kids can make a card if they want to or sign the big one we're going to make together.

Hope he enjoys getting a care package.

Interesting thing about my company. I messaged the company VP and said that now that I'm not responsible for Jim's time card, I no longer have his personal information in my ADP portal, so could I please have his address so we can send him a care package?

She not only responded with the address, she asked me to keep any receipts related to the care package and turn them in for reimbursement.

That's the type of company this is.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My little guy with the large issues had a little better day on Thursday.

It's odd, though. Bob's been with me for over a year and I haven't seen large manifestations of his differences. He's a nice kid. His siblings are nice, too. I've enjoyed having the whole crew, really.

I've been corresponding with his mom a bit. She said that he had some issues with a few of the summer staff and that he's still having a bit of trouble getting past that. I can't share any of his diagnosis with anyone, but what she says is reasonable for this guy.

She's been very kind and very polite. Has expressed appreciation for me and for how I have been handling things and has offered several tips and ideas for a bit different approach.

I'm willing to shift my way of dealing with a kid 20 times if that's what needs to happen, but I am hoping for at least a little bit of change, it's a lot to deal with.

One of the other kids, who's new this year, was already acquainted with the family. Jeffrey eggs Bob on. He laughs when Bob does stuff he shouldn't do. Worse, he does it, too.

An example, we have four lily pad chairs. They're in great condition, as are all our things, because I expect the kids to take good care of them. Bob and Jeffrey were throwing them. Trying to fold the backs down the wrong direction. Sitting on the back, trying to break them.

I had a manager person there on Thursday, and he was right next to them. He was speaking to them about the chairs and their own safety and they laughed at him.

Didn't stop trying to break the chairs.

So on Monday, the chairs will be staying in our storage room. When they ask me about the chairs, I'll tell them that we weren't able to take care of our stuff last week, so it's not coming out this week.
Perhaps next week.

Those chairs are $75.00 each.
We're taking care of them, dammit.

I had a conversation with Jeffrey on Friday, too. Bob only attends Monday and Thursday, so he wasn't there. I sat down with him and told him that when someone else is breaking rules and acting silly, that doesn't mean that he needs to do it, too. That my expectation is that instead of joining in, he walk away and find another activity. I made sure that my conversation wasn't Bob-specific, although of course that's what I was thinking about.

I'm hoping I won't have to remind him. Of course I will attempt to talk with Bob, too. Just because he has stuff going on doesn't give him a free pass.

There is always a Bob or a Jeffrey. Or an Aaron. Aaron has his own things going on and is sometimes an extra amount of work. They're all worth it, of course. I want to be the support they need when I can.

It's a lot easier to be supportive and cheerful when I don't feel like crap, though. Here's hoping for less coughing and sneezing coming up.

::WHAM:::

I started getting sick on Friday. I couldn't figure out why I felt so bad, it didn't seem to be a regular illness at all. I thought maybe it was blood sugar issues, although I've had those mostly under control for over a year now.

On Saturday, I was in pain everywhere. I had a small fever, but not enough to be feeling that bad.

We did our weekly shopping, but it was really hard.
I realized that I must be coming down with something big.

Sunday night, after two days of aches and more aches and joint pain,  I threw up all night long. Now to add to the fun, my stomach muscles and ribs hurt allll the way around my back.

I missed work on Monday. I almost never miss work. I HATE missing work. I love my job, yes, but part of my issue is that I'm a control freak and it really bothers me when I am not there to keep things nice and to set things up right for the afternoons.

I messaged my manager last night and said that she should plan for me to be out for today and that if I felt better, I would let her know. Better than waiting to see how I feel and then going or not going, depending and managers having to scramble to staff the program.

Then, I still felt really awful today.
I was glad I had told them to plan for me to be out.

I realized about 8 this morning that I still had a Covid test here in the momcave.

Guess what??!

Go on, guess.

Yep.

Which explains why NOTHING made me feel better. Aspirin. Motrin. Naproxen. No, I didn't take them all at once. We're talking half doses and 12 hours apart. By the 2nd hour after each one, I knew that they weren't working, though.

This happened to me last year in October. I promised myself that I would not try to work through a big illness ever again, it really kicked my butt. I miss being at work, and I love my kids, but I don't need to be breathing Covid air all over them, either.

I did a little reading this afternoon and learned that the Omicron strain of Covid includes vomiting.

Why yes. Yes it does.

As I write this, it's about 9 PM. I left the Momcave a few minutes ago to grab a snack. I had my flashlight (Eric has already gone to bed, he goes about 7:30 or so because he gets up around 4) and I needed a light to wander around. I saw a black shadow move fast from right to left on the floor in the hallway. I thought it was a mouse. We don't HAVE mice in the house... at least I don't think so, but it was too big to be an arachnid.

Nope. It was a spider. One of the largest ones I've ever seen in the house, actually. I grabbed my large glass jar from my paint supplies and upended it over the spider, then went looking for a sturdy piece of flat cardboard, like from a cracker box. Found one and sent that big guy out to build a website in the front yard.

It was as big as this one that Eric found under the house a few years ago.



I admit to being a little freaked out. I don't kill things in my house, or try not to, but now I'm going to think there's an 8 legged freak lurking around every corner. Geez.

From the 2013 movie, Big Ass Spider
Hilarious movie.

So that's the news.
Covid is making me feel like crap.
At least one large spider has been sharing our home with us.

Pretty exciting update, huh?

It's been a week.

So let's see here. I was sick when I posted my last post (Friday the 13th).

First thing I noticed was swollen lymph nodes in my neck.
Friggin' things HURT.

That was followed by the usual, fever, aches and pains and fever and coughing up what feels like powdered glass, although I never actually saw any. And fever. Also, my temperature was elevated.

Friday I was worse. Did I stay home? No. Should I have stayed home? A resounding yes.

But because I'm control-freaky and I constantly worry about dumb stuff, I could not bring myself to take a day off from work. I can only trust myself, and can't even do that 100% of the time.

Our company decided for us that all our sites were going to participate in a pumpkin decorating contest. We weren't offered a choice. Instead, we were given a pumpkin and a deadline.

I have different kids attending on some days, some kids are only there a day or two a week, so I wanted to arrange it so that the majority of kids had a chance to contribute to the process.

I haven't done a very good job of making sure my assistant knows what's on the agenda craft-wise, and the idea of taking off work when I was getting by with Excedrin and grit (too much of one, just enough of the other?) well, I kept working.

I won't work through being sick like that again.

I'm making a sub box so that there's an activity or two for someone to do with the kids and I won't have to show up for work on the verge of my own demise.

I didn't actually realize how ill I was, but after my chest congestion started breaking up I figured out I had a little pneumonia going on.

It's been rocky. I've taken too much Excedrin, more than one Tylenol and forced myself to drink water even when I don't want any. I am feeling a little better finally... after a damn week, and have been blowing gallons of rubber cement from my nose into boxcars of tissues.

None of that cheap kleenex crap for me, I use Puffs with lotion.
I'm worth it, goddammit!

My assistant is very capable and the kids like him. He seems to understand them. The hesitance to take time off wasn't a reflection of him or his suitability for the job. I need to relax a bit from the control freak thing. He's been at this for awhile, and is competent, calm and the kids listen to him most of the time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In a surprising turn of events, my dad was able to go home a week ago.  He was rreallly wrecked, so I did not expect him to be able to ever return home.

My mom isn't in any condition to be caring for someone 24/7, but she has always been kind of a martyr, believing that the harder she works and the more shit she puts up with here on earth, the greater her heavenly reward.

She keeps this up, her mansion's gonna be bigger than God's.
Just sayin'.
Whatever.

She wants to put up with verbal abuse and add crazy to the mix, go for it. He's always been way off, but now, because of the dementia, he has NO filter at all. He will say whatever's in his head, and it's not always something that makes sense. I'd have to say that 98% (a figure I pulled out of my butt) of the time, what he has to say is mean-spirited, too. And with Sundowners,  it's just loads of fun. A regular trifecta of joy!

And here I am, a product of a milquetoast mom and mean dad, yet I'm a paragon of virtue and modesty.
Amazing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Bob is arriving on Friday the 27th.
I'm working on getting things cleaned up around the house, the momcave is a mess, but improving. I love that he can come visit, but it really makes things crazy around here for that time.

Matt said today that if he were Grandpa, he'd rent a motel and a car so he could be here when people are at home, have a comfy place to rest when they're not, and go sight seeing if he wants to. It's a good idea, although I'd never suggest it, because Bob would think it's because I don't want him here, and that's not true at all.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Last, one of my small girls said to me yesterday afternoon, "Do you know why I'm such a nice person?"

"No, Bailey, why?"

She straightened up a bit, put on a (sorry, but it's true) sanctimonious face and said, "I'm nice because of JESUS. I'm a CHRISTIAN!"

I can't say much to a kid who's thinking that way, of course. I did tell her, "Hey did you know a person can be nice even when they're not a christian?"
She looked taken aback a little. Then she agreed that, "Well, maybe..."

I am not a person who thinks everyone needs to think my way. It's not a secret that I'm not a believer in any sort of god, either. But that attitude... wow.

I wanted to tell her that she is nice. That every kid in the group is pretty nice, actually. And that I doubted any kind of god was the reason, but I just let it go. Nothing else I can do.

Haha, arguing with her about it would have been like expecting the copious quantities of Excedrin to actually make me feel better last week.

Anyway. I'm getting better.
And in case you didn't notice, this post is unedited and unpolished and this is as good as it's gonna get.

Sanitized for my protection

If you've been here awhile (and which of us hasn't?) you will know  that my former employer had a link to my blog which was very considerately sent to them by the attorneys at

Asshole, Fuckstick and Needledick
(Home of The Man in the Smeg-colored suit)
Causing further harm to injured workers is our specialty!

This did not make me happy.
I was, however, inspired to new heights in prose.

Since I knew they were reading, and they didn't know that I knew, I tailored quite a few posts for them.

I had surgery on my right knee while they were trying to weasel out of paying for it, but kept it off my blog until the time was right. Funny, as soon as I posted it, they suddenly wanted to settle.

Since I called my former employer this week, I figured that it might be a good idea to give my blog a little scrubbin'.

I fixed it so no one could read here,  intended to scrub it the same day I gave it a little nap, but I got sick.

OMGGGG did I get sick!!

I don't know how high my fever was on Wednesday night, but I was delirious all night long and into Thursday. I got up once about 2 and took a quick shower to try and cut the fever, but I just almost passed out. Soooo dizzy and sick. Ughhhh. I think it's been about 20 years since I was this ill. I'm guessing it's the flu, the fever, the fact that everything hurts (OMG even my hair hurts!) and the congestion all point in that direction, anyway.

No amount of aspirin or other stuff seemed to do me any good, either.

So that's why you couldn't read here. In case you wondered.

Now I'm off to fill out an online application for a new job.

I missed work on Thursday and am missing work right now, as we speak.

Flu Shot?

Do you get a flu shot?
I don't.

I have no issue with people getting one, of course.
Everyone needs to make decisions about their own health care.

My parents are usually the first ones in line at the annual free flu shot thing where they live.

I assume that most people consider all the angles before making their decision for or against.

Dr. Dirtball told me years and years ago that she wouldn't allow her family to get a flu shot or get one for herself. She said that it's not effective and it carries risks that she was not willing to take.

Well okay then.

I have a few opinions on the importance of the flu shot... first, they usually admit its effectiveness is based on speculation. They're not really sure whether the flu they're vaccinating against is the one that's coming.

It's a big moneymaker for clinics and for the companies that are producing the vaccine, too.

This year, and every year the clinic tells me that I NEED to get a flu shot!
Lots of emphasis on the 'need' part.

They say that every year.

You can get it at the pharmacy or at your regular doctor or at one of the drive-thru events held in various places around town.

Why are they working so hard to sell it?
Well, if they don't sell it, they don't make money on it, that's one thing.

Eric's health insurer sent him a flyer this week exhorting him to 'protect your loved ones with a flu shot'.

Appealing to one's wish to protect the ones they love can be effective, I suppose.

So can using the current crisis to sell the idea further. 'With covid-19, this year, it might be essential.'

Of course this year, everyone who's out and about in the places I visit is wearing a mask.

Handwashing has become a religion for me and mine, too. I'm careful to keep my hands away from my face and do all the things one is supposed to when trying to avoid becoming ill.

It seems to me that this year one has a smaller chance than usual of contracting whatever flu is going around, too.

People aren't going to work, kids aren't in school, most folks are staying home as much as humanly possible and did I mention everyone is wearing a mask?


Part of the reason I mistrust all the stuff 'they' say is all the BS that they can't prove.

'If you get the vaccine and still get the flu, your case will be milder.'
Um, how do they know that?
That implies they're psychic.
I don't think they are.

'The flu shot helped prevent 4.4 million flu illnesses and 58,000 hospital visits during the 2018-19 flu season'

Again, they're not psychics. And shouldn't be trying to act like they are.

'The flu shot can't give you the flu. It can't make you sick'

Eric knew a guy who actually died from an adverse reaction to the flu vaccination. He said he didn't want it, they talked him into it. In 24 hours he was sicker than hell, his doctor told him it was "definitely" the vaccine. The three months he survived after that were not good months. It made him really sick before it finally killed him.

I don't know.

I am not anti-vax, there are vaccinations I don't disagree with.

But there are some that cause me concern.

Gardasil, for example.
Banned in Japan, multiple lawsuits over horrendous effects including death... I gave that one an absolute no fucking way when it came out and it was suggested for my daughter.

I try to be careful about what I take and feel a little embarrassed that I listened to my doctor about the goddamn BP meds in July. It felt wrong. I knew it was a bad idea and I trusted her anyway.

Makes me more cautious and suspicious now.

So no judgement.
I am all for people making their own informed decisions.

I'm interested in your thoughts on this one.

 

 

 

Just when you thought it was over...

You're not going to believe this.
Or maybe you will.I admit to being a little shocked.
Well, not really.
Since the whole thing has been crazy from start to now.

But in the mail yesterday was a bill from Providence for... wait for it...
SIXTY FIVE HUNDRED DOLLARS.Yes, that's right.

I don't have medical insurance according to their records.

Since I'm sure their record keeping is on par with everything else they do, I guess all I can do is roll my eyes.

So I sent an email to the HR person at my job last night after the bill showed up.

"Hey Lisa,
Could you please verify that my coverage under COBRA began on July 1st this year?"

I waited until 11 this morning to hear back from her, she's usually very prompt. When she didn't call, I called her instead.

She told me she'd called Providence first thing this morning. She said they'd told her they 'have no record' of payment for me from our organization, although everyone else's has been accepted.

"Huh," she said. "It's odd that of all the paperwork I've sent in, yours didn't go through."

"Oh it's not odd at all," I told her. "Considering how they're running stuff at Providence, it's not odd at all."

Then I filled her in a little on what's been going on.

There were several, "Oh my gods," and a couple gasps.

She told me to stop worrying about the insurance issue, that she'd take care of it and let me know when it was handled.

So sometime in 2024, I'm sure the bill will get settled.

I've also asked my local friends for a doctor they'd recommend if they're stuck at Providence.

I heard from a former co-worker and she highly recommends her doctor.
Her doctor is also a girl-type person (super important to me) and very good at listening.

She told me that Dr M was the first medical person who'd ever actually listened to her and worked to give her a proper diagnosis. I won't tell her secrets here, they're really not mine to tell, but I can tell you that she's in better health right now than she has ever been thanks to a doctor who listened and conducted the appropriate tests instead of evaluating her by her appearance.

What a novel idea.

I know that the not-very-large amount of trust I had placed in my doctor is just gone. 

I don't want to see her again except to read her a letter I'm working on.
I want her to know exactly what happened to me both at the clinic and hospital level. 

And while she doesn't bear 100% of the responsibility for all of it, she didn't call me back to let me know how to get off the medication that was fucking killing me for THREE GODDAMN DAYS.

And yes, I know she has a lot going on, that her employer expects a great deal from her... but she deals in life and death situations and she didn't give a shit what I needed or how I was feeling.

I don't need to be her number one priority, but I do expect respect.
And I didn't get that.
Over and over and over I didn't get that respect I deserve.
 
I now have zero confidence in her ability or wish to help me if I ever have a serious issue again.

So I'm calling for an appointment with my friend's provider as soon as Providence gets the goddamn insurance mess straightened out. It's still a Providence facility, (can't escape that) but it's about a half hour drive. If I get a doctor who actually gives a shit, it's worth it.

I can at least meet her and see what I think, right?

Meanwhile, SIXTY FIVE HUNDRED DOLLARS.

Bullshit. Just bullshit.

What would you like me to do?

Normal.

As normal as I get, anyway.
My BP has been normal and fine and dandy since my last post.
I got an email from the person who's the head of 'quality assurance' at Providence.
She told me they were conducting their investigation and gave me a date, as in, "I will contact you by this date."

We'll see.

In closing, she said, " I would very much appreciate you letting me know what you would like to see as resolution."

I refrained from smarting off or being mean.
She's just doing her job.

I sent this to her...

This did not start in the ER, it started when my doctor failed to listen to me and prescribed blood pressure medication that I did not need. I had misgivings. I asked her if stopping the heartburn medication might help. She dismissed me.

When the medication made things worse, she prescribed another and another and another. I did see her just before the flurry of prescriptions, but not after or during this craziness. 

NO ONE HAS CALLED TO CHECK ON ME.
In three weeks.

No one cared enough to see if I was okay.

If I weren't smart about paying attention to how I feel, I would have kept taking the stuff that was causing me harm.

When I called my regular clinic for help after the first ER visit,  they were dismissive, too.

"Well, the ER said your blood pressure was stable."

"And you consider 155/88 an acceptable reading?"

"Please hold."

I've been through an utterly horrendous experience over the last month or so and no one has been willing to help me.

So I've handled it myself.
I stopped taking the heartburn medication AND all the blood pressure pills.
My blood pressure has been in a normal range since then.

Gee, it's almost like those heartburn drugs that I'm no longer taking had something to do with the high blood pressure.

Why didn't I think of that?

Oh yeah. Guess I did.

I've written about what happened during my rounds of office visits if you know someone I should send it to.

Or is that your department, too?

Makes me weary to contemplate.

If I weren't required to use Providence because of my insurance, I would be shopping for a new provider.  All of the things that have happened are just inexcusable.

A quote from your last email... " I would very much appreciate you letting me know what you would like to see as resolution. "

 If you were in my position, what would you like to see happen?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I am waiting to see what conclusions are reached from their investigation. I'm also waiting to see what my ER bills look like. I have no problem arguing about the charges and unnecessary padding of the bill, but that's a separate issue. I am angry still, and don't plan to let it go.

Just take the meds, Jabba.

Every time I meet a medical provider for the first time, I'd have to be an idiot to miss the way they size me up.

Haha, no pun intended, but yeah.

I'm not a small person.

I've lost almost exactly 50 lbs in the past year and I'm not done, but unless you know me well, you wouldn't know that.

So their judgment is about 90% based on how I look.
The other 10% is the fact that I'm 'just a babysitter'.
I don't have a real job, ya know. I just take care of kids.

They look at me and drop about 20 points from my IQ before we ever exchange more than pleasantries. I can see it in the way they look at me.

It only goes downhill from there, as I'm not there for them to get to know and I sure as hell don't want to become friends with them, either.
And no, it's not me projecting.

I might be more open to believing that if:
A; it didn't happen every damn time and
B; if those 'professionals' didn't find an opportunity during our conversation to tell me how fat I am and tsk tsk disapprovingly. 

Oh, they don't say, "You're a great, fat hog."
No, they use words like risk factors and high BMI.
Those words are reinforced with disapproving tones and serious stares over the tops of their eyeglasses.

I'm told, sometimes forcefully what *I* need to do to fit into their little box. That pathological need to classify me and FIX me pisses me off more than just a little.

When Dr. Ird (I-replaced-dirtball) lectured me back in March about my BP, she was very intense. Wanted me to get an idea of how important it was to take medication.

"Your numbers just keep going up!" she said, leaning toward me.
"There are many things that can happen to people who have high blood pressure. You could have a stroke! You could have a heart attack! That pressure is making your veins just pound and pound!!"

(an aside here... my BP was like 140s/100's... not good. But compared to what happened when I started the BP medication-go-round?
It was amazing.)

She punctuated her lecture by smacking the back of her right fist into her left palm repeatedly.
She tossed in some threats about how if I had a stroke I wouldn't be able to draw anymore or do the things I usually do.
So against my gut feeling, (she completely dismissed my concerns about the heartburn medications and possible effects from them) I took the damn BP medication(s).
And didn't that go well!?

First, no one called me. NO ONE gave a shit. No one called to see how the medication was working. No one asked after each change how I was doing. I am able to take responsibility to keep an eye on things myself, and it's a good thing I do, but really. Not one call?

The effects caused by every single one of the doctor-prescribed drugs were horrendous.

Don't call them 'side' effects, as they. Fucking. Aren't.
They are effects, life-threatening and goddamn expensive.
(I thank my friend Natalie for that way of looking at it, I hadn't really considered it before.)

And when the first poison didn't work (bumping my BP up into the 220/130!!! range could be called unsuccessful, amiright?)  they said,"Why, let's try another!"

We did.

And another and another. 
It kept getting worse.
And made me so ill.
My god.

My doctor, who didn't get back to me about how to discontinue the first medication until DAYS after I asked for help, was on vacation during that crucial week.

And because I listened to her about the medications in the first place, I got horribly ill in the middle of the night and sincerely believed my life was in imminent danger, because I had NO OTHER OPTIONS I ended up in the ER two times in five days where they failed to do anything for me other than help with a migraine brought on by one of the poisons THEY gave me in the first place!

I was demeaned, dehumanized, degraded.
Talked down to.
Treated like a hypochondriac.

I'm actually embarrassed that I listened to any of the bullshit about getting on BP meds and didn't just take myself off the goddamn heartburn medication in the first place just to see.
(Medically Non-compliant, that's me.) 

When I called the clinic after the first disastrous exposed-to-a-billion-pathogens-by-clueless-hospital-personnel-AND-patronized-to-boot visit to the ER, I was effectively dismissed by the goddamn receptionist, too.

When I said, "Hey, my blood pressure is way up and I ended up in the ER and could I please come in and talk to someone," her response was to dismiss me.
She told me my numbers were, "Stable when you left the ER."
Her tone was unmistakable.

I was actually breathless/speechless for a moment.

She added, "And there's a discrepancy between your readings and theirs.

I covered that in that post, I don't want to write it up again.
She's just another asshole in an ever-growing line of them.

Yeah, that was fun. I spent MORE money to go in and talk to a nurse practitioner and be told I needed to schedule this test and that one and come in and have blood drawn (again). To be fair, she did listen to me.

When I called the clinic on Tuesday to verify, they told me their lab was closed. Which is a lie. It's open to appointment, I was told to come in.

But I had to wait on hold again for 10 minutes to find that out.
Have we talked about being on hold there? It's shrill, obnoxious, loud, OBNOXIOUS.

Several cycles of how to quit smoking and lose weight and get good sleep interspersed with a giant booming voice thanking me for my patience and assuring me they'll be right with me. With a clashing and discordant attempt at music. If you're already feeling like crap, or you have a headache, that stuff doesn't make things better.

What they really need is a 'press 8 if you'd like to be on hold without the noise' option. Just that would be amazing.

Streamlined isn't a word I'd use to describe how they do things.

I also would not use the words compassionate, caring, or concerned.

The feeling I've gotten in about 95% of my dealings with the clinic/hospital system I am *required* to use is that single patients do not matter on an individual basis.

We're just numbers, and if we die, well there are plenty more.
Before all this happened, I can't say I had a great deal of trust invested in Dr. Ird, but I didn't dislike her. I don't dislike her now, either.
But that tiny little bit of trust I had?
I don't have it now.

She's laboring under some pretty ridiculous standards.

I know what is expected from the doctors where she works.

I know I mentioned that I'd followed Dr. Dirtball there.
I'd been seeing her for 16 years and considering who I am and what I think of the practice of medicine in general, I'd developed some amount of trust.

When she informed me that she was leaving the practice, I asked her why.

She sighed.
Wearily sank down into a chair across from me.
Leaned forward, elbows on knees.

"Do you want facts or the sanitized version?"

I raised an eyebrow. "You've known me 16 years and you have to ask?"

I don't remember her her exact words.
I do remember the defeated tone in which she said them.

They wanted her to sell, sell, sell.
Sell vaccines.
Sell tests.
Sell more tests.

She was supposed to make everyone get a flu shot.
Be tested for hepatitis if they were born before 1963.
Catch up on booster shots for this and that.

The practice sees a large number of geriatric patients.
Medicare pays for that.

And for them, there's the added bonus that people of that age group are more likely to do the medical equivalent of 'Yes, Dear' when the doctor tells them they need something.

She was never able to measure up to their production benchmarks, either. See X amount of patients per day.

She usually worked through her lunch hour, either seeing patients or catching up on paperwork. She came in on weekends and on her days off so that she could do more administrative tasks.

She was worn out. Tired. Discouraged.

"This place is not about patient care," she told me.  "They are only concerned with how much they can bill. If you have good insurance, they will order more tests than you need to add to their magic totals."

Not what she'd thought she was signing up for when she closed her solo practice.

She confided that when she'd practiced alone, she spent so much time on the telephone with insurance companies arguing about coverage that she was constantly behind and harried.  Her stress level was making her ill.
She said wryly, "I thought coming here would make things better for me. It hasn't."

She commented on the revolving door of the practice, too.
So many doctors come and go, and can't take the pressures being placed on them from above. They tell them why they're leaving, but nothing changes.

She had thought that being able to hand off the administrative tasks and day-to-day minutiae of private practice would give her time for the actual practice of medicine. To do patient CARE.

"Not this." she finished, gesturing around her.

Said it again, defeatedly, "Not... this."

A few days later, she was gone. I haven't seen her since.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So here's where I am now.
I've been off the heartburn stuff for three weeks now.
My system seems to be balancing a little better. I still have a bit o' the burn, but I have generic tums and generic Pepcid for the worst of it. It's keeping things under control.

I decided to taper off the latest BP medication, the one the veterinarian-masquerading-as-a-human-doctor in the ER prescribed for me.

When I took one, within two hours I was nothing but clammy, out of breath and weak for about 14 hours. It made me very ill, just like all the other shit they've tossed my way.

I did not call the clinic to ask for help in stopping this medication. I've already seen how 'helpful' they are. And their demonstration of how much they 'care' has been quite clear.
Fuck that.

So I did the same get-off-the-med routine my doctor left me on my voice mail four days after I started the process with the first medication. I'm on a skip day today.

My BP has been 120-123 over 79-82 for three days in a row.

Gee, it's almost like those heartburn drugs that I'm no longer taking had something to do with the high blood pressure.

Why didn't I think of that?

Oh yeah. Guess I did.

It's hot. I'm still alive.

So the weather has heated up.
Does that every year around this time.

People have so much to say about how it's 'weird', but we're in summer and it's, well, hot.

Always cracks me up to hear people exclaim over the heat, as if it's a new thing. Six months from now they'll be doing the same over the cold/snow/ice. As if it never happened before.

So I've been staying indoors.

Not that I feel like going anywhere.
Feeling a little weak and wimpy.

No appetite. Which is probably fine, I could live for six months on what my body has stored. Haha, long enough to complain about the ice and snow and wind we get here.

Wednesday I have some tests.
Don't ask me what they are, as I can't remember right now.
But I'll be asking a bunch of questions when results come in.

Have to call the doc office tomorrow in fact, since I'm not messing around with waiting for them to call me about the other things that are supposed to get scheduled.

Made an appointment with my dentist, too.
One of my teeth is bugging me. No pain, but I think I either have a cavity or some other problem in one of my wisdom teeth. Yippee. Can't be in one of the teeth that's easy to get to. Oh hell no.

Blech.

Also, haven't said anything to my parents about what's been going on with me, as there is seriously not a single thing they can do other than worry over me. I figure they have enough to think about.

Once I have some answers, it's possible that I might share some information with them. Not sure yet. I guess it depends on what they tell me.

And how are YOU doing?

Providence would like my feedback!

The second 'how are we doing?' survey from Providence Hospitals, Portland, Oregon has landed in my email box.

They opened with:
Dear Susan ,

Our commitment to you, and everyone we serve at Providence, is to ensure patients and families experience quality health care and unforgettable compassion. Our Promise is to "Know you, care for you and ease your way" as we partner in your health.

I am almost never speechless, and I'm sure I'll regain my ability to write a factual email that is still scathing in tone so I can answer that.

What a ridiculous and overflowing crock of shit!

But wait.
Maybe I'm being unfair.

Perhaps their use of quotes around part of their message is used the same way I use them when I share my feelings about politics and our "representatives".

Hm.
No, I think they think I'm gonna believe that crap about 'care'.

HAHAHAHA

I suppose that sets the tone, though. From the top... "Man, people are STUPID! Let's just tell them this and that and how much we CARE, they'll believe it! Watch!"

And the condescension filters down into every aspect of hospital operation.
I think something a little more honest would be good.

Maybe, 'At Providence, we worship money.

We pretend to be religious (I'm sure you saw the crucifixes hanging almost everywhere you looked... even above the blood spatters on the wall in the treatment room you were last in and we refer to the 'original sisters of Providence quite often) but make no mistake, we are only interested in one thing.

The religious angle is there so we can get government money for all the people we 'care' for. And calling yourself non-profit doesn't mean you can't make money. A whole lot of money.'


Religion?
Well...  there were a couple things during my 2nd visit that caused a JESUS H CHRIST to burst forth, is that relevant?


Unforgettable compassion?
There were several aspects of my 'care' that were unforgettable, but I saw no display of compassion from anyone involved in my care.

I did see one instance of compassion, though.

There was an elderly homeless man sitting all alone in the corner of the waiting room, covered in white hospital blankets, surrounded by garbage bags of his possessions. He was holding a phone in his right hand and sleeping soundly, nasal cannula in place. His phone rang a few times, he slept right through it.

The phone at the security desk rang, the guy sitting there (he was wearing a mask, unlike the guys from the first visit!!) answered. Spoke briefly, hung up the phone, then went to the man, still sleeping.

He placed a hand on the man's shoulder.
"Mr. Smith," he said. "Mr. Smith."

The gentleman roused a little.

"Mr. Smith, I just had a phone call from Helping House." (not the real name of the place, I just can't remember what it was) "They said they have been trying to call you. They are on their way to pick you up. You rest now, and when they arrive, I will let you know."

He patted the guy on the shoulder again, looking him in the eye and treating him with the utmost respect. He left his hand on the man's shoulder longer than necessary, squeezed his shoulder gently before removing his hand.
It was nice to see.

I went to the hospital because I woke up at 4:00 short of breath, my heart was fluttery, my left arm was aching in time with my heartbeat, I was dizzy, sweaty, shaky and sick. Oh, and my blood pressure was up into the holygoddamnfuckbatman range. I was, bluntly, scared to death.

I wish I could tell you my treatment was compassionate, caring, felt any kind of partner-y ... wait.

What treatment?

Are we talking about how the doctor treated me?
She walked into the room, immediately remembering me from 5 nights prior.
I saw her face change.
Well, her eyes, above the mask.

She didn't have time to change her shirt, but I'm sure she would have chosen the I see hypochondriacs shirt probably hanging in the front of her closet.

She treated me like an idiot.
She talked down to me, using a disapproving tone to tell me that stopping the heartburn medication was 'a bad idea' even though my doctor said it would be fine if I could manage it. She 'found it hard to believe' that every one of those blood pressure medications had those side effects.

Those were her actual words. "I find it hard to believe."

Worse, she looked to my husband for corroboration. She wanted him to side with her against me. She tried twice to draw him into the conversation, he looked away to avoid eye contact or interaction with her.

She dismissed the pain going down my left arm and radiating up into my left ear.
"Oh you probably slept on it wrong."

She did manipulate the shoulder, when she said, "What about this?" expectantly and I answered, "No," she again looked skeptical. Yanked my arm another direction with the same results. Did it again. same answer.
She actually rolled her eyes at one point.

She did some serious arm-pulling, I'm sure she was pulling my arm 'cause she believed *I* was pulling her leg, but there were no answers.

She did give me something for the screaming headache I'd gotten from the medication. I am grateful for that.

I didn't explode with anger. I was too weak, wobbly, scared and upset.
I wasn't sure I could remain coherent.
And is there any point in engaging with someone like that?
Someone who clearly doesn't give a shit?

I knew I could talk all day long and she'd get that glazed look on her face and not hear a single word. I was too weak to even bother.

Here's the thing.
I have been living in this body for about 60 years.
I fucking know when something is affecting me.
I pay very careful attention to how I'm feeling and what's changing day to day with the medications.

This isn't a joke, it's serious shit and I'm TAKING it seriously.

I can't imagine anyone goes to the ER for fun.
Definitely not that one.
I had NO CHOICE, that's where my insurance dictates I must visit.

It's not an especially clean place, either.

I noticed, especially when every other hospital I've ever visited has been immaculate.

And going twice in 5 nights for excitement!?

Dear god.
I'm one of those sorry assholes who's not only lost their job but lost their insurance benefits because of the plague. I had *just* sent my stuff in to elect to continue the coverage at my expense when all this shit started happening.

So not only am I paying an exorbitant amount for coverage, I'm sure I'll get a whopping-ass bill for the two ER visits in which they did absolutely NOTHING TO HELP ME, were condescending, patronizing, and dismissive.

They displayed all the sensitivity of an alligator.

I don't expect to develop lasting friendships with ER personnel. I won't be inviting them to bbq parties or send them presents on their birthdays. I'd feel awkward if any of them invited me, too.

But simple respect and being seen and heard would be nice.

I don't want to die from this crap.
Right now the plan is for a meteor to take both of us out when we're about 80 or so.

So, Providence, that 'commitment' you tossed into your mission statement? I don't believe a single word. Did anyone 'know me, care for me, or ease my way'?
That's a big, fat no.

Answers

Well.

I was heard today.

Yesterday afternoon I called my doctor's office.
Even though she's out of town.
Because I am scared, dammit. This is a lot going on suddenly, and I don't like any of it.

When something that's supposed to HELP your BP actually makes it worse...a LOT worse, it's no fun. When they swing FIVE TIMES at the BP and completely miss, it's not fun, either. My readings have been horrendously high, the medications have made me sicker than hell, and no one is goddamn helping me.

First I got some twat on the line who wanted to tell me that my BP reading when I left the ER was 'stable'. And when I asked her if those numbers were an acceptable range, and told her my current reading, she said there was a discrepancy between my home BP cuff and the hospital reading.

Well no shit, Sherlock. That's why I brought my cuff in to check against the one in the office!!

I told her, "Yes, there sure is. But six or seven points difference isn't an issue in this case and a stable HIGH BLOOD PRESSURE is still high blood pressure. Are you not getting this?"

But I got pissed off, too. I told her that I'm completely sick of being patronized and condescended to and that I want a referral to a specialist because, "As of now, I am goddamn sick of being dismissed."
 
 So she said, "Hang on, I will have you talk to Diane."
(Diane is one of the nurses.)

"Nope. I talked to her twice last week. She doesn't give a shit. Is there anyone working there who cares about the patients?"

I'm not nice when I'm angry.
And I'm not just angry, I'm sick and scared.
So be nice when you're on the other end of the line, because you will be hearing some shit if you're not.

So when they do a referral, they do this test and that test so you're handed off to the next doctor with all your bloodwork and other stuff in a neat little package.

The person they had me talk to instead of Diane asked me if I'd come in today for those tests.

"Can you guarantee that it's not still another condescending asshole?" I asked her.
There were a couple moments of silence on the line. Then she said, "She's really good. And she's very nice and a good listener."

I told her, "Look. I realize that you're not the problem here, and that you're the one stuck with a phone call from an angry person. But consider... I wouldn't BE an angry person if I'd been treated with respect by everyone else. So I'm sorry you had to be the one to hear this, but I can't say I'm sorry for saying it."

I had several different tests today.

Also have some other things scheduled for Wednesday.

And there's one test they can't do there that I'll have to drive down to mid-Portland for. That's fine.

Today, though, someone finally listened. To everything I had to say. I went over my entire list. I told her about all the side effects I've experienced and about being dismissed and ignored and that I am no longer sitting and waiting for assistance, here's what I want, and yes, I want it now.

So here we go, I guess.
::sigh:::

When I got home and checked email, I found an email address to send my commentary to. I did that immediately, since it was all written up.  I'm not done, though. It's going to the state regulatory board as soon as I have the energy to do so.

I need to get a better saddle if I plan to take up tilting at windmills as my new career.

Medical 'Care'

This is what I wrote up for my review of Providence's 'care'.
Exciting epilogue... I had chest pain and some pretty interesting stuff going on AGAIN at 3:30 this morning so guess where I went AGAIN?

I did learn that if you present in the ER with chest pain they bump you to the head of the line, though. Expensive fucking lesson, I'm sure.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Some waiting area staff were not good at observing safety protocols. Security guys sitting in the corner at their station, masks dangling from one ear, heads two feet apart as they looked at stuff on a phone, laughing and chatting.

A woman came and talked with them awhile, she also did not have a mask on.  All three of them had a lengthy conversation, punctuated with laughter and hearty voices. All unmasked.

Since they're on the front lines, as they say, it seems to me that the possibility of them spreading Covid-19 even though they were not displaying symptoms, is bigger than average.

Most of the people in the waiting room were there because they were ill in the first place, so I can't understand the logic of sitting unmasked and exposing the general public to still more pathogens.

Upon my arrival I saw a person sitting to the right in the broad entry walkway  a little to the side. She was in a wheelchair, bent over at the waist, completely passed out, head lower than her knees. A white garbage bag full of her possessions and a purse were on the floor in front of her chair.

A puddle of unknown substance was slowly spreading under her chair.
I observed several Providence employees walking past the puddle, adjusting their route to avoid stepping in it.

So yes, they saw it.  But chose not to see HER.

No one stopped to check on the person who was not in a safe position, unconscious. Providence personnel came and went from the triage rooms, passed within a foot of her MULTIPLE times and didn't see her.

I finally pointed her out to a woman who was doing triage. She looked carefully at the unconscious person, said, "Well, that can't be comfortable,"

She got reinforcements who gloved up and went to move the patient. They tried to get her to sit up, but she was in very poor condition and unresponsive. They wheeled her away. The puddle of liquid was left on the floor. No one came to clean it up, although I noticed hospital staff still walked around rather than through it.

Another person was in one corner of the waiting area vomiting loudly and constantly for approximately 45 minutes.

Who knows what pathogens the unmasked Providence personnel (and already compromised patients forced to wait in the same area) were exposed to? I do understand the purpose of triage and that many patients were waiting, but it seems that one of the factors involved in triage is assessing the risk to others in the vicinity of the ill person and that someone who is projectile vomiting is not only in dire straits, but the people around them are at risk of getting whatever contagions they're spewing into the air.


I went to the ER because we have been working to get my blood pressure under control and failing.

We've tried several different medications and I've had some interesting side effects. I pay close attention to how I am feeling, take daily BP measurements and monitor myself.

The medication I had been taking was making me very ill, was causing horrendous spikes in my readings and instead of lowering my readings, had raised my blood pressure to dangerous levels, so I was in the process of weaning off the medication. It's dangerous to completely stop the medication all at once, so I was following the protocol set forth by my doctor.

As I was getting ready to go to bed on Thursday night, I suddenly became very raspy-voiced as my throat started to feel closed. My breathing was working okay, but a deep breath caused me to feel something like sand swirling in my chest and my throat and made me cough.

I began being dizzy. I became weak-kneed and sweaty. The cough and sandy feeling worsened.

Those are not good symptoms, and coupled with the discontinuation of the medicine, made me decide I should seek medical attention.

I'm not sure I could say I actually received medical attention, but that was the goal. I feel confident that during the entire time I was there, no one actually listened to me.

They sort of listened to my *words* but clearly attached their own meaning to them.

I felt dismissed and patronized.

I do understand that the people who work in the conditions of an emergency department see a very broad picture of society and various amounts of lunacy in an unpredictable and sometimes shocking manner. And that ER medicine is not a clinical atmosphere. Had I not been dealing with the blood pressure issues and medication-go-round, I wouldn't have even considered visiting an ER.

I repeated several times to the various staff that NO I was not in pain, I was having something like glass in my throat. That and the extreme high blood pressure and dizziness were my symptoms. I did NOT have a 'sore throat' which was mentioned by each staff person I encountered.

They did check my blood pressure, I suppose.
So there's that.

WHAM

My cousin Kathy took me out for a belated birthday lunch a week ago.
We went to Olive Garden.

On Sunday night I was up about six times with some weird intestinal thing, naturally I blamed my birthday luncheon, but as it turned out, I was coming down with something even worse than a little intestinal thing.
Of course.

I made it to work on Monday, but my tummy didn't feel very happy for most of the day.
I started throwing up during the night. Over and over and over.

So at 5 on Tuesday morning, I paged the manager guy, waited for him to call me and when he did, said, "Hey, not sure if it's something I ate or I'm sick, but I've been up all night. If you could get someone to take my site this morning that would be terrific. I'll try to make it in this afternoon."

This is the first time since I started my job in September of 2016 that I could not work a scheduled shift at my site, which he pointed out to me. And he told me that if I needed someone to come and let me go home, let him know.

I did make it in, too.
But I had NO business trying to work. I made it through on grit and Excedrin.
And I regretted every eternal second of it.
I will make up a couple sub packets so that if I get sick like that again, I can just take the time off. And anyone could walk  into my site and find stuff for the kids to do and I'm just a control freak and should have just taken the damn time off.

But I'm so far out of the local area that had I called and asked to have someone sent out to help me escape a little early, I would have been 20 minutes out from my regular quitting time by the time they got there.

THAT night, I had a horrible fever. I'm pretty sure my eyeballs were melting. I was afraid to look. I messaged my manager and told him that I was lying in the dark contemplating spontaneous combustion. "Will I notice or will I just whoosh out of existence? Could you send someone to cover for me in the morning, please?"

And then, 'cause I managed to make it for the afternoon shift the day before, I figured I could do it again. It wasn't any smarter the second time.

::sigh::

Then Eric was up all night on Thursday night throwing up. Guess it was contagious, huh?

So I seem to be recovering, or mostly. But the huge effort involved in throwing up every fifteen minutes or so for six hours did a hell of a number on the back of my neck. It's still badly sore today. I was starting to worry, actually, especially after I consulted Dr. Google.

After giving it a lot of thought and comparing symptoms, I have decided that it's just muscle soreness. Blech. Since anti-inflammatory medication works (aspirin) then it's not anything to be concerned about. Except of course it hurts like hell.

I've hardly eaten since Sunday. I lost 10 lbs this week. Ughhh.

And how are YOU doing? I'm looking forward to hopefully a better week.

Dear Universe,

Dude.
WTF?

Fever, hives, swollen lower lip, more fever, more hives.
That's enough, m'kay?

Thanks,
Mental
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thursday evening I started getting a fever. By bedtime it was a BIG fever, the kind that makes me weird. Unable to think in a linear or even sensible fashion.

I woke up countless times during the night. Such weird things were going through my head. Ugh.

I was supposed to go to a 3 hour orientation thing at work on Friday, but not only was I too sick to go, I was pretty sure that no one wanted the same bug with school about to start.

I ended up sleeping all day.
Up to pee, back to bed. Over and over and over. Every time I got up the fever was still with me. It's still summer (although cooler) and I was using my electric blanket.

Then last night, I woke up with hives on my stomach.
What????!

Fever up and down and up and down still.

When I got up this morning, my lower lip was numb and so swollen that I looked like I'd stuck my lip in a vacuum. Allergic reaction to????

The ONLY thing I had that was different from my usual was that I used a drinking straw from a brand new bag of them. Made in China. I don't know if it's possible for that to have caused the hives/lip swelling or not. You can bet that I won't be using those straws again, though. Holy cow.

I took some Benadryl. Went back to bed. And was up and down many times to pee. The lip is almost back to normal this evening, wish I could say the same for my temperature. So weird. And I feel so off. Took some more Benadryl before I ate my dinner. First food in 24 hours.

Blech.

So that was my parting gift from the place I worked over summer, I guess. I'm trying to get the house in order, Bobapalooza 2018 is in two weeks. Making progress but there's still a lot left to be done.

Now it's time for another dose of Benadryl (we have the Walgreen's knockoff and man, that stuff tastes nasty!!) and back to bed. I managed to shower and put on something clean, but that's really all I accomplished.

Well, I am going to try it

This is the last week of school in new and my old district. We get out Wednesday, but they go one more day, not getting out until Thursday.

I have wanted to go out and say hi to the people I worked with for so many years. They were so nice to me and treated me like part of the team. But I haven't been able to do it. I think about it. I visualize driving into the parking lot and getting out of my car and the look of surprise on their faces and realize that I wouldn't be able to do it without tears.

To tell you the truth, I don't know if I can do it now, either. But I feel like the time is right for me to do it and I have to at least try.

So I am considering doing it tomorrow morning after my shift, it just feels like the right time.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In other news, I am still trying to pack my program. Scaling waaaay back on the stuff... most of what was there wasn't being used by me or the kids anyway. A great deal of programming has been brought in by me. The toys, the art supplies, the trifold boards that up until this afternoon decorated our walls, the photographs of the kids that hung on the bulletin board until I took them down today and gave them to the kids, too.

SDI (Secret Daycare Inc) is a non-profit organization. Which means they just throw money away at an alarming rate. We were told at the last site director meeting that I attended (missed one last week 'cause I was sick) that we are NOT to bring back books, games that aren't brand new, stuff that the kids don't really use much... 'Just throw it in the dumpster, we'll buy things that the kids DO use' they said.

I have a very small amount of storage, and I have to keep things in closed containers.

It infuriates me and once again tells me these people are unprofessional and a bunch of airheads sort of pisses me off that I am cleaning up more than 25 years of other people's stuff without any assistance. Today I found a 1 quart bucket stuffed full of fun foam scraps. None of them were bigger than a dime. I am not kidding.
I've recycled bags and bags of paper things like carefully copied (like 50 copies of each!!) and clipped together, hundreds and hundreds of coloring sheets and stuff that I would not use in a million years. And I have no place to put all of it even if I thought I was going to use it.

I did tell my manager person in writing that I am not up to doing it all, that I will deal with programming items but that someone will need to come out and help me when school gets out.

If they don't send someone to help me (and I am done asking, so either they will or they won't... not my goddamn problem.)

I'll make sure my stuff is ready for fall, make sure it's placed in its proper place in the 'storage tunnel', bring home everything that would cost me more than $50.00 to replace.

I'll leave the rest to be thrown in the dumpster by the demolition crew.

Don't forget, starting Monday I am to be running the LEGO camp. I want them to have fun activities to go along with the building, and am planning all that, too. I have 24 kids registered. That ought to keep me busy.
And with the cleanup of my site, the lack of support from the manager person... well, feeling just a little overwhelmed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
And.
Still coughing and coughing and coughing.
When I blow my nose it's almost exactly like rubber cement... except rubber cement isn't poisonous green.

But no more fever.

I don't feel like complete crap. More like.. incomplete crap, I guess.

And how are YOU doing??