As I wrote in yesterday's Life with Lynnie (LwL) entry, Wednesday morning was rather stressful, for me.
Like I previously discussed, the stress was from a phone call I received. I didn't appreciate being yelled at, sworn at, called names, etc.
I'm sure that no one would enjoy this!
Making an effort to calm the person down and in an effort to resolve the situation, I called a third party, so that we had a group conference call. At first, the angered person seemed more calm. At least, until they began their nastiness, once again.
Knowing I had to prepare to attend my surgeon/doctor's appointment to be checked over, I cut the conversation short.
Sigh...
By the way, in catching up with entries giving information on what happened when I was hospitalized, I wrote an entry entitled, Where is God? Here is a LINK so you can easily access it, to read.
Getting back to describing my busily-scheduled Wednesday morning, I knew I had to get ready to go. My daughter P would arrive to pick me up, within a short time of when I had ended that stressful call.
Previously, P had told me she would come drive me to my medical appointment. At the time, I had told her that she didn't need to do that and let her know that I would drive myself.
P insisted that I shouldn't drive. After all, once again I have a drainage tube exiting my body. And, she was fully aware that the location of it, would actually sit, immediately at the steering wheel's location of my van.
We had argued over and over about it, on Tuesday evening. I felt badly having P come all the way across town to pick me up, to have to cross most of town again, to get to where I had to go. Then, do it all again, in reverse, later.
Since the weather forecast called for rain, and since P usually picks up her elementary-school-aged sons when the weather is bad, I knew that by helping me, she wouldn't be able to help me, and be there for her sons, for it would actually be in the same time frame.
Tuesday evening, P suggested we speak in the morning. So, on Wednesday morning, she let me know she was on her way to pick me up.
Whether I liked it or not, she was leaving her home, at that time.
Sigh...
Even though I felt like she was overextending herself, in my heart I was thankful.
Truly, I had been concerned about driving. After all, I wasn't supposed to be driving. It's dangerous for me, at this time, physically speaking.
Once again, I can say, just as I did on the entry I wrote and posted a link for you, today... that God surely does provide. He knows our needs, even before we do.
And, He handles them, not to honour us and give us glory, but rather, to give Him glory.
As like other recent days, God also provided a Bible verse, or phrase to come to mind, that applied to both entries written and posted. Psalm 115:1-3 came to mind, "Not unto us, O Lord, not unto us, but unto thy name give glory, for thy mercy, and for thy truth's sake. Wherefore should the heathen say, Where is now their God? But our God is in the heavens: he hath done whatsoever he hath pleased."
God does what He will do. And, he puts in place and allows things to happen that will glorify Him, and not us.
Just as He did, when he placed it on my daughter P's heart and mind to insist upon driving me, this past Wednesday.
For this I am truly thankful. And, I praise God!
Until next time...
If you would like to comment, please e-mail: lifewithlynnie@gmail.com
Friday, May 31, 2013
Thursday, May 30, 2013
Attacked! (+ a link to: Sleeping With a Stranger & More...)
I'm sure you're aware, that here on Life with Lynnie (LwL) I've been writing about my recent hospital stay. And, about being home, once again.
Since I am making an effort to fill in the gap of when I wasn't able to write and post entries while in hospital, here is a LINK to the entry I wrote and published today, but shows online as May 13th.
When I first awoke yesterday, I thought it would be a good day. I felt somewhat rested, even though I had only slept between three and four (3 and 4) hours during the night.
I knew I had to call my real estate board and obtain a form to use to put my membership on hold due to health reasons. Even though I originally had gotten sick and had surgery last September, I hadn't done so, thinking that I would be healed within a few weeks.
Unfortunately, a few weeks turned into a few months. Then, more surgery. And, still no healing.
Still, because I hadn't been aware of having the staph infection MRSA, I kept trusting God for healing, within a few weeks, time after time.
After arranging for the form, I called my daughter P, who insisted she would pick me up and drive me to the doctor's to have my wound, and drainage tube checked over.
Then, I had a phone call from someone else. I won't mention who. Or why.
It's enough to say that the person was in a hateful and hurtful frame of mind. Their tongue lashed out at me, calling me names, swearing, etc.
In an effort to resolve the issue, I got a third (3rd) person on the phone with us, in a conference call. At first, the angry person seemed to be extra polite to the additional person on the line with us. At least, until they began verbally attacking me, once again.
After feeling like I was sinfully being attacked for no reason, I said I had had enough, that I needed to get ready to go to my surgeon/doctor's, said goodbye and hung up.
It never ceases to amaze me how unloving and uncaring some people can be. Especially, when they are either confused or misunderstanding regarding issues at hand.
Like I said, when I wrote May 13th's entry (today), we live in a sinful world. Evil. Satan's domain.
How fitting the Bible verse was that I used in that entry: Micah 2:1, "Woe to them that devise iniquity, and work evil upon their beds! when the morning is light, they practise it, because it is in the power of their hand."
Just so you know, I do feel that Satan is attacking me. He can't stand the work I do for Christ.
This may sound silly to some of you, if you aren't truly a Bible-believing person. However, friends of mine who live near Cornwall, Ontario, Canada, who have a ministry, were the first people to speak with me to this regard.
They believe I have been attacked, repeatedly by Satan. And, it was their opinion also, that it is due to the work I do for my Lord, Jesus Christ.
I'm grateful that God has already written the ending. Satan doesn't have to believe it. But, I do. And, I know who wins.
Until next time...
If you would like to comment, please e-mail: lifewithlynnie@gmail.com
Since I am making an effort to fill in the gap of when I wasn't able to write and post entries while in hospital, here is a LINK to the entry I wrote and published today, but shows online as May 13th.
When I first awoke yesterday, I thought it would be a good day. I felt somewhat rested, even though I had only slept between three and four (3 and 4) hours during the night.
I knew I had to call my real estate board and obtain a form to use to put my membership on hold due to health reasons. Even though I originally had gotten sick and had surgery last September, I hadn't done so, thinking that I would be healed within a few weeks.
Unfortunately, a few weeks turned into a few months. Then, more surgery. And, still no healing.
Still, because I hadn't been aware of having the staph infection MRSA, I kept trusting God for healing, within a few weeks, time after time.
After arranging for the form, I called my daughter P, who insisted she would pick me up and drive me to the doctor's to have my wound, and drainage tube checked over.
Then, I had a phone call from someone else. I won't mention who. Or why.
It's enough to say that the person was in a hateful and hurtful frame of mind. Their tongue lashed out at me, calling me names, swearing, etc.
In an effort to resolve the issue, I got a third (3rd) person on the phone with us, in a conference call. At first, the angry person seemed to be extra polite to the additional person on the line with us. At least, until they began verbally attacking me, once again.
After feeling like I was sinfully being attacked for no reason, I said I had had enough, that I needed to get ready to go to my surgeon/doctor's, said goodbye and hung up.
It never ceases to amaze me how unloving and uncaring some people can be. Especially, when they are either confused or misunderstanding regarding issues at hand.
Like I said, when I wrote May 13th's entry (today), we live in a sinful world. Evil. Satan's domain.
How fitting the Bible verse was that I used in that entry: Micah 2:1, "Woe to them that devise iniquity, and work evil upon their beds! when the morning is light, they practise it, because it is in the power of their hand."
Just so you know, I do feel that Satan is attacking me. He can't stand the work I do for Christ.
This may sound silly to some of you, if you aren't truly a Bible-believing person. However, friends of mine who live near Cornwall, Ontario, Canada, who have a ministry, were the first people to speak with me to this regard.
They believe I have been attacked, repeatedly by Satan. And, it was their opinion also, that it is due to the work I do for my Lord, Jesus Christ.
I'm grateful that God has already written the ending. Satan doesn't have to believe it. But, I do. And, I know who wins.
Until next time...
If you would like to comment, please e-mail: lifewithlynnie@gmail.com
Wednesday, May 29, 2013
Afflicted...
As I am sure you are probably aware, I was hospitalized for 15 days and wasn't able to write and post entries here on Life with Lynnie (LwL).
Now that I'm home, I am trying to catch up by writing and posting my usual daily entry, in addition to an entry from daily happenings at the hospital. Here is a LINK to an entry I wrote that is now dated May 12th. It's entitled, May 11th Shocking News!
So, now you know it.
My daughter P's concern and suggestion about the possibility of me having picked up a staph infection in the operating room of the hospital, proved correct. The test confirmed that I have MRSA, a staph infection.
I praise God it is contained to the wound area and is not on my skin or airbourne. It was explained to me that because these issues do not pertain to me, I am not considered 'contagious'.
Even so, my nurse was shocked to hear me tell her this the other day, when my at home nursing care began, once again. Apparently, this was not part of my file information, that should have been there. After all, anyone treating me needs to be aware of the situation.
As for me, well I feel like I am still in shock.
Reality is setting in. And, I'm trying to keep my focus on healing.
I'm trusting my Lord, Jesus Christ to heal me, completely... from the top of my head, to the tip of my toes and everywhere in between. Especially, from this MRSA that has been affecting me by not just making me ill, but by preventing healing from my surgeries that happened in September and December 2012.
In the entry I wrote and posted for May 12th, I felt the way I did when I wrote this entry. After all, I wrote them the same day and reflected on how I felt. So, I am using the same Bible verse once again.
As I mentioned in the other entry, several Bible verses came to mind. But, I reflected greatly on Psalm 34:19, "Many are the afflictions of the righteous: but the Lord delivereth him out of them all."
Yes, it's true. I've said it before, and I'll say it again, because God confirms it with this verse, that those who belong to Him, those who are saved, those who truly trust in Him, usually suffer many afflictions. But, the good news is, as He told us, the Lord delivers us... out of them all.
Hallelujah! I praise God. Thank You, Jesus. I'm trusting in You.
Until next time...
If you would like to comment, please e-mail: lifewithlynnie@gmail.com
Tuesday, May 28, 2013
The Body?
Hopefully, you're aware I wasn't able to post here on Life with Lynnie (LwL) for quite a while. This was partly due to the fact that I spent 15 days in hospital.
As I did over the past couple of days, I have been working to catch up on creating daily entries, so that you can be kept abreast of my happenings. And, of how God has been working in my life.
Today, I posted an entry for the date of May 11th, entitled Finally, a Bed! Enough about way back then.
Yesterday, my regular nurse visited me, at home.
As per normal, she cleaned and redressed my wound area on my abdomen. She flushed the drainage line. And, she flushed out and tested the PICC line in my arm.
I'm grateful that my PICC line has two (2) catheter hookups.
One of them wasn't flushing well and wouldn't draw back blood, the way it is supposed to, in order to be working properly. She used the other one that was still working, to hook up my liquid heavy-duty antibiotics that will cover my usage for the next 24 hours.
Not long after my nurse left, my gut felt weird. Sure enough, I once again experienced a massive amount of leakage. So much so, that the bandage that was only about an hour or so old, was thoroughly drenched.
Sigh...
I called my nurse. Yes, she returned to make an instant replay of my wound cleaning and redressed it.
Then, she wrote a note that she would fax to my surgeon/doctor, and left a copy for me to take with me for when I see him for a recheck. We tried to send the fax from my home, but for some reason it wouldn't go through. At least, by her faxing the note, my surgeon/doctor would be aware of my situation, before I see him.
I must say that even though things hadn't gone 100% well yesterday, and I felt somewhat frustrated for a short time, I wasn't worried. I praise God for this! After all, my Lord is in control of all things, including, my body and healing.
How grateful I am that there is no need to fear.
After all, He told us Matthew 10:28, "And fear not them which kill the body, but are not able to kill the soul: but rather fear him which is able to destroy both soul and body in hell."
Yes, this is the same verse I used in the link I posted earlier in today's entry. How grateful I am that God works in my life daily. And, shows me in His Word, the Bible, how He works in my life.
Until next time...
If you would like to comment, please e-mail: lifewithlynnie@gmail.com
As I did over the past couple of days, I have been working to catch up on creating daily entries, so that you can be kept abreast of my happenings. And, of how God has been working in my life.
Today, I posted an entry for the date of May 11th, entitled Finally, a Bed! Enough about way back then.
Yesterday, my regular nurse visited me, at home.
As per normal, she cleaned and redressed my wound area on my abdomen. She flushed the drainage line. And, she flushed out and tested the PICC line in my arm.
I'm grateful that my PICC line has two (2) catheter hookups.
One of them wasn't flushing well and wouldn't draw back blood, the way it is supposed to, in order to be working properly. She used the other one that was still working, to hook up my liquid heavy-duty antibiotics that will cover my usage for the next 24 hours.
Not long after my nurse left, my gut felt weird. Sure enough, I once again experienced a massive amount of leakage. So much so, that the bandage that was only about an hour or so old, was thoroughly drenched.
Sigh...
I called my nurse. Yes, she returned to make an instant replay of my wound cleaning and redressed it.
Then, she wrote a note that she would fax to my surgeon/doctor, and left a copy for me to take with me for when I see him for a recheck. We tried to send the fax from my home, but for some reason it wouldn't go through. At least, by her faxing the note, my surgeon/doctor would be aware of my situation, before I see him.
I must say that even though things hadn't gone 100% well yesterday, and I felt somewhat frustrated for a short time, I wasn't worried. I praise God for this! After all, my Lord is in control of all things, including, my body and healing.
How grateful I am that there is no need to fear.
After all, He told us Matthew 10:28, "And fear not them which kill the body, but are not able to kill the soul: but rather fear him which is able to destroy both soul and body in hell."
Yes, this is the same verse I used in the link I posted earlier in today's entry. How grateful I am that God works in my life daily. And, shows me in His Word, the Bible, how He works in my life.
Until next time...
If you would like to comment, please e-mail: lifewithlynnie@gmail.com
Monday, May 27, 2013
Our Lord's Day, and May 10th...
As you probably read in yesterday's Life with Lynnie (LwL) entry, I've begun writing about my happenings during the 15 days I was in hospital.
Yesterday, being our Lord's day, I normally would have gone to worship. I didn't. With a tube draining fluid from my gut, I didn't think it was safe to drive. After all, the steering wheel would be directly in front of it.
Instead, I caught up on some of the things I needed to do, here on the internet. Including writing an entry for Friday, May 10th; here is a LINK.
Yesterday, I realized that even though the intravenous (IV) power unit that distributes my medication was working okay, it wasn't recharging. Even though the unit was being recharged in the charging unit, it was not happening.
Consequently, from Saturday afternoon until Sunday morning, I had to use the unit not with battery consumption, but rather, by a normal plugged in power source. Plugged in or not, the battery didn't charge; in fact, it even lost some power.
Sigh...
After calling the drug store in Amherstburg, which is the only drug store that handles intravenous equipment and drugs in our county area, I was told that they would send another unit to me. Unfortunately, it arrived after my nurse came... and left.
My regular nurse was off for the weekend, so a substitute one gave me care, today. She's a lovely lady; I like her, a lot. She came a little earlier than originally anticipated.
Oh well. My regular nurse will have to change over the equipment.
Again, I'm trusting in my Lord, Jesus Christ. And, am thankful He provides for me, always. I know I do not have to fear.
Just like on May 10th's entry I am posting today, I am happy to be mindful of 2 Timothy 1:7, "For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind."
Besides, what good would fear do? Would it help me? No. Just as it wouldn't help anyone else.
Until next time...
If you would like to comment, please e-mail: lifewithlynnie@gmail.com
Yesterday, being our Lord's day, I normally would have gone to worship. I didn't. With a tube draining fluid from my gut, I didn't think it was safe to drive. After all, the steering wheel would be directly in front of it.
Instead, I caught up on some of the things I needed to do, here on the internet. Including writing an entry for Friday, May 10th; here is a LINK.
Yesterday, I realized that even though the intravenous (IV) power unit that distributes my medication was working okay, it wasn't recharging. Even though the unit was being recharged in the charging unit, it was not happening.
Consequently, from Saturday afternoon until Sunday morning, I had to use the unit not with battery consumption, but rather, by a normal plugged in power source. Plugged in or not, the battery didn't charge; in fact, it even lost some power.
Sigh...
After calling the drug store in Amherstburg, which is the only drug store that handles intravenous equipment and drugs in our county area, I was told that they would send another unit to me. Unfortunately, it arrived after my nurse came... and left.
My regular nurse was off for the weekend, so a substitute one gave me care, today. She's a lovely lady; I like her, a lot. She came a little earlier than originally anticipated.
Oh well. My regular nurse will have to change over the equipment.
Again, I'm trusting in my Lord, Jesus Christ. And, am thankful He provides for me, always. I know I do not have to fear.
Just like on May 10th's entry I am posting today, I am happy to be mindful of 2 Timothy 1:7, "For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind."
Besides, what good would fear do? Would it help me? No. Just as it wouldn't help anyone else.
Until next time...
If you would like to comment, please e-mail: lifewithlynnie@gmail.com
Sunday, May 26, 2013
Today, and May 9th Entry...
As wrote yesterday on Life with Lynnie (LwL), I intend to write about those days that I wasn't able to. The days when I was in hospital. This way, my friends, family and readers will be able to know the details of why I was in hospital, and more.
Here is a LINK to an entry I wrote today, regarding the time I was first at the hospital. While the entry itself would have been posted May 9th, the happenings were late May 8th and early May 9th. Just like always, I usually post tomorrow regarding today's events.
With regards to today, my nurse just left. How grateful I am that I am being treated, medically.
While it may not be easy for me, I am trusting in my Lord. And, thanking Him.
The Bible verse that I will use today, is the same one that I used in the entry I wrote regarding May 9th.
I'm sure many of you are familiar with Isaiah 40:31, "But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint."
Waiting isn't easy. But, it is sometimes, necessary. Like it was on May 9th, and like it is, today.
How grateful I am that God gives me the strength daily, to walk, and not faint.
Have a blessed Lord's day!
Until next time...
If you would like to comment, please e-mail: lifewithlynnie@gmail.com
Here is a LINK to an entry I wrote today, regarding the time I was first at the hospital. While the entry itself would have been posted May 9th, the happenings were late May 8th and early May 9th. Just like always, I usually post tomorrow regarding today's events.
With regards to today, my nurse just left. How grateful I am that I am being treated, medically.
While it may not be easy for me, I am trusting in my Lord. And, thanking Him.
The Bible verse that I will use today, is the same one that I used in the entry I wrote regarding May 9th.
I'm sure many of you are familiar with Isaiah 40:31, "But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint."
Waiting isn't easy. But, it is sometimes, necessary. Like it was on May 9th, and like it is, today.
How grateful I am that God gives me the strength daily, to walk, and not faint.
Have a blessed Lord's day!
Until next time...
If you would like to comment, please e-mail: lifewithlynnie@gmail.com
Saturday, May 25, 2013
Praise God! Home, Again!
If you read my entry on Life with Lynnie (LwL) Wednesday, May 8th, 2013 you'll know that I went to hospital.
I'm home from the hospital, now. And, I'm finally able to write an entry here on LwL.
Praise God for this!
After all, He did answer my prayers, as He told us He would, in Matthew 7:7-8, "Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you: For every one that asketh receiveth; and he that seeketh findeth; and to him that knocketh it shall be opened."
There is much to be said, but I cannot do this at the moment. As I am able, I will try to write and post entries so you will have an idea of what has transpired over the past two and a half (2 1/2) weeks.
Thank you to each of you who have prayed for healing for my family members, and for me. Healing is still in progress, so continued prayer would be appreciated.
May God bless you.
Until next time...
If you would like to comment, please e-mail: lifewithlynnie@gmail.com
I'm home from the hospital, now. And, I'm finally able to write an entry here on LwL.
Praise God for this!
After all, He did answer my prayers, as He told us He would, in Matthew 7:7-8, "Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you: For every one that asketh receiveth; and he that seeketh findeth; and to him that knocketh it shall be opened."
There is much to be said, but I cannot do this at the moment. As I am able, I will try to write and post entries so you will have an idea of what has transpired over the past two and a half (2 1/2) weeks.
Thank you to each of you who have prayed for healing for my family members, and for me. Healing is still in progress, so continued prayer would be appreciated.
May God bless you.
Until next time...
If you would like to comment, please e-mail: lifewithlynnie@gmail.com
Friday, May 24, 2013
Won't Go Until...
If you've been reading Life with Lynnie (LwL) recently, you'll be aware that I was hospitalized for 15 days. And, due to this, I wasn't able to write/publish any LwL entries. Today's entry, is the last entry I have written to fill in the time gap, from when I couldn't post here.
On May 23rd, the day I was to leave hospital, my daughter P came to drive me home.
Originally, my nurse thought I'd be gone first thing in the morning. It didn't work out this way.
Much to everyone's surprise, I didn't leave until mid-afternoon.
You see, as I wrote in yesterday's LwL entry, I had trouble with the drainage tube that was supposed to drain fluid from around the mesh inside me, into a bag attached to the drainage tubing.
Please don't think that my nurse didn't know about the problem, because she and the nurses on other shifts knew. And, my surgeon/doctor knew. Even so, no one did anything about it.
To me, it was as if they didn't care.
But, the major reason I didn't leave the hospital first thing in the morning was due to my PICC line not functioning properly. Once again, this was something my nurses had known about, yet no one did anything about it.
For days, I didn't understand why when the intravenous (IV) antibiotics were given me, it seemed that the pump didn't finish using up all the medications. Over and over again, the machine had to be set for more time.
The evening prior to me going home from hospital, my nurse tried to flush both attachments (catheters) as they normally would. However, she could hardly even get half (1/2) of the syringe filled with saline solution, to enter each of the lines.
In addition, she could not draw blood back through the lines. Had the PICC line been working properly, this would have happened.
So, it's not like the hospital didn't know that there were problems that needed to be dealt with.
When my nurse came in to say 'bye' and let me know she'd have the form ready shortly, I let her know that I wouldn't be leaving until someone fixed the PICC line. And, I mentioned the fact that my drainage tube set up wasn't working properly, either.
She didn't seem thrilled.
I made it clear that it was bad enough that all my nurses and my surgeon/doctor knew that the drainage tube from my gut wasn't working properly. But, knowing that the only method of receiving the SUPER-antibiotics was intravenously, I knew that it had to work right.
If it didn't work properly, I would definitely have a problem, at home.
And then, to me it would be even worse than having nurses in hospital upset with me. After all, if I had to return to hospital to have the PICC line looked at, I would probably have to wait hours in the waiting area of the emergency room (ER) once again, amidst sick people that I would be at risk being around, if they were contagious.
So, I refused to leave. Until it was fixed.
A woman came to check it out from the department that handles PICC lines. She tried to flush both tubes. Didn't work.
She tried to draw blood up through the lines. Didn't work.
Then, she admitted there was definitely a problem with the PICC line. I was grateful that finally, there was someone who didn't think the problem was all in my head, because the problem was real!
This woman told my daughter P and I, that she would flush the lines with medication that they usually use for people with blood clots.
She explained that as the tubes get used, the intravenous antibiotics coat the interior of the lines, and cause a build-up that eventually leads to the lines being clogged. She also let us know it would take an hour or two (2) before we'd know if the lines were cleared.
P and I were informed that I would have an ultrasound test done.
While I was waiting to be taken for the ultrasound test, my nurse brought in my discharge form. And, thinking that both problems they knew needed fixing were being looked into, I signed it, at her request. She said she was rather busy, and it would save everyone time.
Later, I wished I had not signed the form ahead of time. In fact, that is something I will never again, do.
When I had been told I was having the ultrasound test done, I thought she was referring to an ultrasound test being done on my gut. After all, everyone knew the drainage tube wasn't working properly, either.
After waiting in the hallway for over an hour, I was finally taken into the room for the ultrasound test.
To my surprise, it wasn't being done on my gut. Instead, the ultrasound technician did the test on my neck, left side of my chest, my shoulder, and my upper left arm.
This was done to ensure that I didn't have a blood clot that could clog up the PICC line. The end result was, that I was fine.
Once upstairs again, the PICC line woman returned. She used more medication to flush, again. After a while, my PICC line began to work, better.
For this I praised God! Thank You, Lord!
Believe me when I say that all this stress of having medical care with treatment equipment that hadn't worked properly for days, was upsetting to me. What was even more upsetting was the fact that in my opinion, no one had seemed to care.
I felt like some people were only there to do the minimum required of them, and collect their paycheques. Not really caring to doing anything about the problems I had been enduring.
Feeling like this through the night, before getting ready to leave for home, I found myself crying. And, feeling rather sad, with much frustration.
After having my PICC line fixed, I felt somewhat relieved. But, still rather upset due to the fact that I had been led to believe that the ultrasound was to check on the drainage tube and not the PICC line.
Thinking about all the tears I had shed, brought to mind Psalm 126:5, "They that sow in tears shall reap in joy."
Just as Jesus would have me do, I took it upon myself to forgive those who had not been very loving towards me, and my needs.
Before leaving the hospital, I hugged my nurse and let her know I was grateful to her for the help she had given me.
And, I prayed. Not just for the nursing staff and other medical people. But, also for the patients, because in my mind, some of them might be suffering the way I had been.
I must admit that I felt badly that my daughter P had wasted the better part of the day waiting for me to be ready to leave the hospital. And, even though I knew my gut drainage system wasn't working properly, I felt relieved knowing my PICC line was once again, working.
The thing I felt joyful about, was the fact that my Great Physician, Jesus Christ, was in control. Of everything. Including my healing, that I am trusting Him for.
Until next time...
If you would like to comment, please e-mail: lifewithlynnie@gmail.com
On May 23rd, the day I was to leave hospital, my daughter P came to drive me home.
Originally, my nurse thought I'd be gone first thing in the morning. It didn't work out this way.
Much to everyone's surprise, I didn't leave until mid-afternoon.
You see, as I wrote in yesterday's LwL entry, I had trouble with the drainage tube that was supposed to drain fluid from around the mesh inside me, into a bag attached to the drainage tubing.
Please don't think that my nurse didn't know about the problem, because she and the nurses on other shifts knew. And, my surgeon/doctor knew. Even so, no one did anything about it.
To me, it was as if they didn't care.
But, the major reason I didn't leave the hospital first thing in the morning was due to my PICC line not functioning properly. Once again, this was something my nurses had known about, yet no one did anything about it.
For days, I didn't understand why when the intravenous (IV) antibiotics were given me, it seemed that the pump didn't finish using up all the medications. Over and over again, the machine had to be set for more time.
The evening prior to me going home from hospital, my nurse tried to flush both attachments (catheters) as they normally would. However, she could hardly even get half (1/2) of the syringe filled with saline solution, to enter each of the lines.
In addition, she could not draw blood back through the lines. Had the PICC line been working properly, this would have happened.
So, it's not like the hospital didn't know that there were problems that needed to be dealt with.
When my nurse came in to say 'bye' and let me know she'd have the form ready shortly, I let her know that I wouldn't be leaving until someone fixed the PICC line. And, I mentioned the fact that my drainage tube set up wasn't working properly, either.
She didn't seem thrilled.
I made it clear that it was bad enough that all my nurses and my surgeon/doctor knew that the drainage tube from my gut wasn't working properly. But, knowing that the only method of receiving the SUPER-antibiotics was intravenously, I knew that it had to work right.
If it didn't work properly, I would definitely have a problem, at home.
And then, to me it would be even worse than having nurses in hospital upset with me. After all, if I had to return to hospital to have the PICC line looked at, I would probably have to wait hours in the waiting area of the emergency room (ER) once again, amidst sick people that I would be at risk being around, if they were contagious.
So, I refused to leave. Until it was fixed.
A woman came to check it out from the department that handles PICC lines. She tried to flush both tubes. Didn't work.
She tried to draw blood up through the lines. Didn't work.
Then, she admitted there was definitely a problem with the PICC line. I was grateful that finally, there was someone who didn't think the problem was all in my head, because the problem was real!
This woman told my daughter P and I, that she would flush the lines with medication that they usually use for people with blood clots.
She explained that as the tubes get used, the intravenous antibiotics coat the interior of the lines, and cause a build-up that eventually leads to the lines being clogged. She also let us know it would take an hour or two (2) before we'd know if the lines were cleared.
P and I were informed that I would have an ultrasound test done.
While I was waiting to be taken for the ultrasound test, my nurse brought in my discharge form. And, thinking that both problems they knew needed fixing were being looked into, I signed it, at her request. She said she was rather busy, and it would save everyone time.
Later, I wished I had not signed the form ahead of time. In fact, that is something I will never again, do.
When I had been told I was having the ultrasound test done, I thought she was referring to an ultrasound test being done on my gut. After all, everyone knew the drainage tube wasn't working properly, either.
After waiting in the hallway for over an hour, I was finally taken into the room for the ultrasound test.
To my surprise, it wasn't being done on my gut. Instead, the ultrasound technician did the test on my neck, left side of my chest, my shoulder, and my upper left arm.
This was done to ensure that I didn't have a blood clot that could clog up the PICC line. The end result was, that I was fine.
Once upstairs again, the PICC line woman returned. She used more medication to flush, again. After a while, my PICC line began to work, better.
For this I praised God! Thank You, Lord!
Believe me when I say that all this stress of having medical care with treatment equipment that hadn't worked properly for days, was upsetting to me. What was even more upsetting was the fact that in my opinion, no one had seemed to care.
I felt like some people were only there to do the minimum required of them, and collect their paycheques. Not really caring to doing anything about the problems I had been enduring.
Feeling like this through the night, before getting ready to leave for home, I found myself crying. And, feeling rather sad, with much frustration.
After having my PICC line fixed, I felt somewhat relieved. But, still rather upset due to the fact that I had been led to believe that the ultrasound was to check on the drainage tube and not the PICC line.
Thinking about all the tears I had shed, brought to mind Psalm 126:5, "They that sow in tears shall reap in joy."
Just as Jesus would have me do, I took it upon myself to forgive those who had not been very loving towards me, and my needs.
Before leaving the hospital, I hugged my nurse and let her know I was grateful to her for the help she had given me.
And, I prayed. Not just for the nursing staff and other medical people. But, also for the patients, because in my mind, some of them might be suffering the way I had been.
I must admit that I felt badly that my daughter P had wasted the better part of the day waiting for me to be ready to leave the hospital. And, even though I knew my gut drainage system wasn't working properly, I felt relieved knowing my PICC line was once again, working.
The thing I felt joyful about, was the fact that my Great Physician, Jesus Christ, was in control. Of everything. Including my healing, that I am trusting Him for.
Until next time...
If you would like to comment, please e-mail: lifewithlynnie@gmail.com
Thursday, May 23, 2013
Perfect Weakness...
Hopefully, you've been reading Life with Lynnie (LwL) for a while. If so, you'll be aware that I did not write and post this entry of LwL on this date.
Due to being in hospital, I have written this and other entries and posted them, to fill in the time gap letting you know what transpired while I was in hospital.
On May 22nd, my last full day in hospital, my surgeon/doctor came in to see me, as he did most days.
Once again, I pointed out that the drainage tube that was supposed to allow fluid from around the mesh inside me to drain, wasn't working correctly. It wasn't draining, except at times after the nurse had flushed it.
Glancing down at the bag attached to the drain, we noticed that it was leaking. My surgeon/doctor suggested I have the nurse change the bag.
Later on, after shift change occurred, my nurse came in and decided she would change the bag attached to my drainage tube. When she returned, she went to unhook the bag and found it was clogged, and so was the length of tubing attached.
Off she went to locate another section of tubing to run from the blue tube draining from my gut, to the bag that she was to hook up. When she returned, she told me that she couldn't locate a length of tubing, so she would hook up the bag directly to the blue tube.
I didn't like that idea. However, I didn't have a choice. She did it.
About 15 or 20 minutes later, I began hurting. At first, I couldn't understand why. Then, I realized that the bag was pulling on the blue drainage tube.
Sigh...
I rang for my nurse. She returned with a short length of tubing, just a few inches long.
As she was installing it, I let her know that the short length was not going to work. Not only would it still allow for pressure on the blue tubing while I sat, but when I stood up to walk, or even have a shower, the pressure would be tremendous.
She said she hadn't thought about that and let me know that she'd have to go to another department to locate a length of tubing like I had originally, that allowed me to secure it to my hospital gown, without pulling on the blue tubing.
Upon returning, she installed the lengthy tubing. It worked well. No more pressure.
Even so, that's when the drainage stopped. Totally.
Sigh...
I'm sure you can understand how stressed I began to feel. After all, I had been told that I would be going home the following day.
Even so, I once again took a deep breath... and exhaled, praying to my Lord, to help me. Physically. Emotionally. In all ways.
2 Corinthians 12:9 is the Bible verse that came to mind, "And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me."
Rather than creating a scene and complaining, I decided to allow God to work in my life. Besides, my nurse already knew that there was a problem with the drainage system. And, I didn't want to cause any further trouble.
In addition, His grace is truly sufficient for me.
Especially, since He is in control of all things. Including, my health problems.
Instead, I just took this problem in prayer to the cross and left it with Jesus.
Until next time...
If you would like to comment, please e-mail: lifewithlynnie@gmail.com
Due to being in hospital, I have written this and other entries and posted them, to fill in the time gap letting you know what transpired while I was in hospital.
On May 22nd, my last full day in hospital, my surgeon/doctor came in to see me, as he did most days.
Once again, I pointed out that the drainage tube that was supposed to allow fluid from around the mesh inside me to drain, wasn't working correctly. It wasn't draining, except at times after the nurse had flushed it.
Glancing down at the bag attached to the drain, we noticed that it was leaking. My surgeon/doctor suggested I have the nurse change the bag.
Later on, after shift change occurred, my nurse came in and decided she would change the bag attached to my drainage tube. When she returned, she went to unhook the bag and found it was clogged, and so was the length of tubing attached.
Off she went to locate another section of tubing to run from the blue tube draining from my gut, to the bag that she was to hook up. When she returned, she told me that she couldn't locate a length of tubing, so she would hook up the bag directly to the blue tube.
I didn't like that idea. However, I didn't have a choice. She did it.
About 15 or 20 minutes later, I began hurting. At first, I couldn't understand why. Then, I realized that the bag was pulling on the blue drainage tube.
Sigh...
I rang for my nurse. She returned with a short length of tubing, just a few inches long.
As she was installing it, I let her know that the short length was not going to work. Not only would it still allow for pressure on the blue tubing while I sat, but when I stood up to walk, or even have a shower, the pressure would be tremendous.
She said she hadn't thought about that and let me know that she'd have to go to another department to locate a length of tubing like I had originally, that allowed me to secure it to my hospital gown, without pulling on the blue tubing.
Upon returning, she installed the lengthy tubing. It worked well. No more pressure.
Even so, that's when the drainage stopped. Totally.
Sigh...
I'm sure you can understand how stressed I began to feel. After all, I had been told that I would be going home the following day.
Even so, I once again took a deep breath... and exhaled, praying to my Lord, to help me. Physically. Emotionally. In all ways.
2 Corinthians 12:9 is the Bible verse that came to mind, "And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me."
Rather than creating a scene and complaining, I decided to allow God to work in my life. Besides, my nurse already knew that there was a problem with the drainage system. And, I didn't want to cause any further trouble.
In addition, His grace is truly sufficient for me.
Especially, since He is in control of all things. Including, my health problems.
Instead, I just took this problem in prayer to the cross and left it with Jesus.
Until next time...
If you would like to comment, please e-mail: lifewithlynnie@gmail.com
Wednesday, May 22, 2013
Good...
Hopefully, by now you're aware that I was not able to write and post this entry of Life with Lynnie (LwL) on this date. Unfortunately, I was in hospital and unable to do this, so it was done at a later date.
For sure, if you've been reading LwL, you'll know that I had a drainage tube that had been installed in my gut, so that fluid from around the mesh inside me, could drain.
What some of you may or may not know, is the fact that my surgeon/doctor had cut me open. He did so, right in the private room #810 that I had been moved to after finding out I had a staph infection, MRSA.
Actually, I was cut open while in that same room, twice.
The first time, was to open me up, where the fluid was draining from through my skin. At that time, he cut away affected flesh.
A few days before being released from hospital, my surgeon/doctor once again, cut me open... a second time.
He told me he was doing this, because even though I was still draining through the opening he cut and cleared the first time, it was trying to heal.
After he did his thing surgically, my nurse showed me with her fingers the length of the opening. It appeared to be about two and a half to three (2 1/2 to 3) inches in length.
Due to its location, I couldn't see it. It was below where the drainage tube was positioned. And, of course, while in hospital, nurses regularly cleaned and redressed both areas of concern on my abdomen.
In a way, I was glad that I hadn't been told in advance that this procedure would be done on me. This way, I didn't have time to think about it, and/or get upset about it.
Instead, I just trusted God.
One of my favourite Bible verses was what I thought about, while the procedure was being done. Romans 8:28, "And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose."
Yes, I know that God makes all things work together for good.
This does not mean that all things are good. But, He makes everything work out just right for us, who belong to Him. To those, who are the called, according to His purpose.
The truth was, that I understood that this surgical procedure was for my good. And, I trusted my surgeon/doctor and my Lord.
Until next time...
If you would like to comment, please e-mail: lifewithlynnie@gmail.com
For sure, if you've been reading LwL, you'll know that I had a drainage tube that had been installed in my gut, so that fluid from around the mesh inside me, could drain.
What some of you may or may not know, is the fact that my surgeon/doctor had cut me open. He did so, right in the private room #810 that I had been moved to after finding out I had a staph infection, MRSA.
Actually, I was cut open while in that same room, twice.
The first time, was to open me up, where the fluid was draining from through my skin. At that time, he cut away affected flesh.
A few days before being released from hospital, my surgeon/doctor once again, cut me open... a second time.
He told me he was doing this, because even though I was still draining through the opening he cut and cleared the first time, it was trying to heal.
After he did his thing surgically, my nurse showed me with her fingers the length of the opening. It appeared to be about two and a half to three (2 1/2 to 3) inches in length.
Due to its location, I couldn't see it. It was below where the drainage tube was positioned. And, of course, while in hospital, nurses regularly cleaned and redressed both areas of concern on my abdomen.
In a way, I was glad that I hadn't been told in advance that this procedure would be done on me. This way, I didn't have time to think about it, and/or get upset about it.
Instead, I just trusted God.
One of my favourite Bible verses was what I thought about, while the procedure was being done. Romans 8:28, "And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose."
Yes, I know that God makes all things work together for good.
This does not mean that all things are good. But, He makes everything work out just right for us, who belong to Him. To those, who are the called, according to His purpose.
The truth was, that I understood that this surgical procedure was for my good. And, I trusted my surgeon/doctor and my Lord.
Until next time...
If you would like to comment, please e-mail: lifewithlynnie@gmail.com
Tuesday, May 21, 2013
Casting My Care Upon Him...
If you've been reading Life with Lynnie (LwL) for any length of time, you'll be aware that on this date, I was in hospital. This entry was not written and posted on this date. Instead, it was written after I was at home. The purpose is to fill in the time gap, by letting you know what transpired during this time period.
Yesterday, I wrote about what transpired with various doctors on our Victoria Day holiday weekend.
One thing I didn't discuss was what happened on that particular Friday. While I mentioned my surgeon/doctor saw me and let me know that he would be off for the weekend, I didn't let you know that he also told me that I was going to have a procedure done.
He let me know that the latest CT Scan showed that I had another pocket of fluid around the mesh, inside me. For this, a second drainage tube may be installed. Or, the radiologist/doctor in the ultrasound department may adjust the current drainage tube, if possible to drain both areas.
You see, the current drain wasn't working properly.
Later, I was taken down to the ultrasound department. The ultrasound technician took some pictures. Then, we waited for the radiologist/doctor to arrive.
The woman radiologist/doctor who arrived was not dressed like a Muslim, but had a name that is fairly common for their people. I must admit that I didn't know for certain if she was Muslim, but I presumed she was, from her name.
Knowing that I am not all that comfortable with Muslim people, knowing that Islam teaches and promotes hatred of Christians, and all infidels, I prayed. And, trusted my Lord.
She looked at the drain exiting my body from my gut. She looked at the ultrasound pictures. Then, she left the room, supposedly to look at the most recent CT Scan.
Upon returning to the ultrasound room, this female radiologist/doctor let me know that there was no way she would install another drainage tube. Why? She told me it was due to the fact that she doesn't like to work around mesh.
After taking a deep breath, I commented that this was exactly why my surgeon/doctor requested that a tube be installed, because the fluid around the mesh inside me needed to be drained away.
She responded, letting me know that wasn't her problem.
Thinking she was about to give me a needle to freeze me, so that I wouldn't have pain as she adjusted the current drainage tube, I experienced some pain as the needle entered my gut.
Upon completion of what she did, she showed me that she had aspirated the pocket of fluid, by removing part of the fluid. Enough to fill the syringe.
Then, she wiggled the existing drainage tube that hadn't been working properly.
Arriving back at my room #810, my nurse commented that the radiologist/doctor did not feel she needed to make adjustments or add another drainage tube.
Sigh...
I took a deep breath and told the nurse what I had been told, about how she refused to work around mesh. Not in an angry way, even though I wasn't a happy camper about what had transpired. I commented in a humble, quiet way.
My nurse checked the file and told me that wasn't the info on my file. I told her it didn't matter to me what the file said, other than it wasn't complete, because I knew what the radiologist/doctor had said. And, the ultrasound technician had heard it, too.
To me, it was like a big waste of time, even being taken down for the procedure that didn't happen.
And, the thought of how the female radiologist/doctor lied on my file, didn't make me feel any better. Especially, since I didn't trust her to begin with.
Believe me when I say I prayed.
1 Peter 5:5-7 came to mind, "Likewise, ye younger, submit yourselves unto the elder. Yea, all of you be subject one to another, and be clothed with humility: for God resisteth the proud, and giveth grace to the humble. Humble yourselves therefore under the mighty hand of God, that he may exalt you in due time: Casting all your care upon him; for he careth for you."
I prayed, not just for healing for me, but also for that radiologist/doctor, who had taken it upon herself to not be fully honest, when reporting on my file. And, I praised God that He gave me the grace to humbly deal with the situation.
Prayer continued throughout the day, the weekend, and even to this day. I pray that God will save her. Bring her to her knees, to repent and allow Jesus to become her Saviour, and Lord, of her life.
In my heart, I knew there was nothing I could do about what transpired. I realized that the truth was, that no one really cared for me, and about my need for healing.
Other than Jesus, of course. So, I prayed and cast all my care upon Him.
I'm continuing to trust Him, because as a born-again Christian, who believes upon Him, I know He loves me. And, always will.
Until next time...
If you would like to comment, please e-mail: lifewithlynnie@gmail.com
Yesterday, I wrote about what transpired with various doctors on our Victoria Day holiday weekend.
One thing I didn't discuss was what happened on that particular Friday. While I mentioned my surgeon/doctor saw me and let me know that he would be off for the weekend, I didn't let you know that he also told me that I was going to have a procedure done.
He let me know that the latest CT Scan showed that I had another pocket of fluid around the mesh, inside me. For this, a second drainage tube may be installed. Or, the radiologist/doctor in the ultrasound department may adjust the current drainage tube, if possible to drain both areas.
You see, the current drain wasn't working properly.
Later, I was taken down to the ultrasound department. The ultrasound technician took some pictures. Then, we waited for the radiologist/doctor to arrive.
The woman radiologist/doctor who arrived was not dressed like a Muslim, but had a name that is fairly common for their people. I must admit that I didn't know for certain if she was Muslim, but I presumed she was, from her name.
Knowing that I am not all that comfortable with Muslim people, knowing that Islam teaches and promotes hatred of Christians, and all infidels, I prayed. And, trusted my Lord.
She looked at the drain exiting my body from my gut. She looked at the ultrasound pictures. Then, she left the room, supposedly to look at the most recent CT Scan.
Upon returning to the ultrasound room, this female radiologist/doctor let me know that there was no way she would install another drainage tube. Why? She told me it was due to the fact that she doesn't like to work around mesh.
After taking a deep breath, I commented that this was exactly why my surgeon/doctor requested that a tube be installed, because the fluid around the mesh inside me needed to be drained away.
She responded, letting me know that wasn't her problem.
Thinking she was about to give me a needle to freeze me, so that I wouldn't have pain as she adjusted the current drainage tube, I experienced some pain as the needle entered my gut.
Upon completion of what she did, she showed me that she had aspirated the pocket of fluid, by removing part of the fluid. Enough to fill the syringe.
Then, she wiggled the existing drainage tube that hadn't been working properly.
Arriving back at my room #810, my nurse commented that the radiologist/doctor did not feel she needed to make adjustments or add another drainage tube.
Sigh...
I took a deep breath and told the nurse what I had been told, about how she refused to work around mesh. Not in an angry way, even though I wasn't a happy camper about what had transpired. I commented in a humble, quiet way.
My nurse checked the file and told me that wasn't the info on my file. I told her it didn't matter to me what the file said, other than it wasn't complete, because I knew what the radiologist/doctor had said. And, the ultrasound technician had heard it, too.
To me, it was like a big waste of time, even being taken down for the procedure that didn't happen.
And, the thought of how the female radiologist/doctor lied on my file, didn't make me feel any better. Especially, since I didn't trust her to begin with.
Believe me when I say I prayed.
1 Peter 5:5-7 came to mind, "Likewise, ye younger, submit yourselves unto the elder. Yea, all of you be subject one to another, and be clothed with humility: for God resisteth the proud, and giveth grace to the humble. Humble yourselves therefore under the mighty hand of God, that he may exalt you in due time: Casting all your care upon him; for he careth for you."
I prayed, not just for healing for me, but also for that radiologist/doctor, who had taken it upon herself to not be fully honest, when reporting on my file. And, I praised God that He gave me the grace to humbly deal with the situation.
Prayer continued throughout the day, the weekend, and even to this day. I pray that God will save her. Bring her to her knees, to repent and allow Jesus to become her Saviour, and Lord, of her life.
In my heart, I knew there was nothing I could do about what transpired. I realized that the truth was, that no one really cared for me, and about my need for healing.
Other than Jesus, of course. So, I prayed and cast all my care upon Him.
I'm continuing to trust Him, because as a born-again Christian, who believes upon Him, I know He loves me. And, always will.
Until next time...
If you would like to comment, please e-mail: lifewithlynnie@gmail.com
Monday, May 20, 2013
Who is in Control?
Like many entries here on Life with Lynnie (LwL) lately, this one wasn't written and published on this date. Instead, it was created and posted after I arrived home from hospital.
The purpose of doing this, is so that I could fill in the gap in time, and give you information regarding my happenings while in hospital.
On the Friday of the Victoria Day long weekend, my surgeon/doctor visited me, as he had the habit of doing, each morning. He let me know that he wouldn't be seeing me until the following Tuesday. He was off for the weekend.
I was also told that one of his colleagues would drop by to see me, instead.
On the Saturday, one of his cronies did drop by. He let me know he was familiar with my situation. After a brief discussion, he left.
On Sunday, he came by, once again. This time, our conversation was somewhat shorter.
One thing he did tell me, was that in his opinion, he didn't think the mesh inside me would need to be removed.
Sigh...
I actually felt relieved hearing this. I thanked him for his opinion.
After he left, I prayed and thanked Jesus for this doctor's opinion. And, I prayed that he was correct, in his thinking.
On Victoria Day, the Monday morning, a different colleague of my surgeon/doctor's dropped by.
We had met when she took over for him in September 2012, when I was still in hospital, after having surgery for the INCARCERATED HERNIA. She recalled this.
From what I've heard, this female surgeon is very talented, and knowledgeable. We discussed my situation.
To be honest, it was surprising to me that she stayed as long as she did. In addition to discussing my current treatment and situation, she wanted to discuss some other issues.
The bottom line is that I felt rather upset by the time she left my room.
One reason was obviously the biggest reason why. She let me know that in her opinion, I needed to have the mesh removed from inside me.
All of it. After all, my whole abdominal cavity had been relined in 1994, at the same time I had the first hernia repair done.
But, with the current situation being so severe, it matters not if the past mesh had been okay. Now, it is no longer safe for me.
Sigh...
After she left, I found myself rather upset.
Reflecting upon both surgeon's opinions, I prayed. After all, their opinions were at opposite ends of the scale.
Even though I felt rather upset, I took a deep breath and declared to myself silently, that I wouldn't rely on either of their opinions. Instead, I would trust Jesus... my Great Physician.
After all, my Lord is in control. Not the surgeons/doctors who were paid by OHIP (Ontario Health Insurance Plan) to drop by to see me, while in hospital.
Thinking about how Jesus healed many people, several Bible verses came to mind.
One was Luke 8:48, "And he said unto her, Daughter, be of good comfort: thy faith hath made thee whole; go in peace."
Yes, Jesus healed many people. Not just those he physically saw or touched, either.
And, nothing is impossible for Him. Jesus can heal me. And, I reconfirmed to myself that I would continue to trust Him, to heal me. Completely.
Until next time...
If you would like to comment, please e-mail: lifewithlynnie@gmail.com
The purpose of doing this, is so that I could fill in the gap in time, and give you information regarding my happenings while in hospital.
On the Friday of the Victoria Day long weekend, my surgeon/doctor visited me, as he had the habit of doing, each morning. He let me know that he wouldn't be seeing me until the following Tuesday. He was off for the weekend.
I was also told that one of his colleagues would drop by to see me, instead.
On the Saturday, one of his cronies did drop by. He let me know he was familiar with my situation. After a brief discussion, he left.
On Sunday, he came by, once again. This time, our conversation was somewhat shorter.
One thing he did tell me, was that in his opinion, he didn't think the mesh inside me would need to be removed.
Sigh...
I actually felt relieved hearing this. I thanked him for his opinion.
After he left, I prayed and thanked Jesus for this doctor's opinion. And, I prayed that he was correct, in his thinking.
On Victoria Day, the Monday morning, a different colleague of my surgeon/doctor's dropped by.
We had met when she took over for him in September 2012, when I was still in hospital, after having surgery for the INCARCERATED HERNIA. She recalled this.
From what I've heard, this female surgeon is very talented, and knowledgeable. We discussed my situation.
To be honest, it was surprising to me that she stayed as long as she did. In addition to discussing my current treatment and situation, she wanted to discuss some other issues.
The bottom line is that I felt rather upset by the time she left my room.
One reason was obviously the biggest reason why. She let me know that in her opinion, I needed to have the mesh removed from inside me.
All of it. After all, my whole abdominal cavity had been relined in 1994, at the same time I had the first hernia repair done.
But, with the current situation being so severe, it matters not if the past mesh had been okay. Now, it is no longer safe for me.
Sigh...
After she left, I found myself rather upset.
Reflecting upon both surgeon's opinions, I prayed. After all, their opinions were at opposite ends of the scale.
Even though I felt rather upset, I took a deep breath and declared to myself silently, that I wouldn't rely on either of their opinions. Instead, I would trust Jesus... my Great Physician.
After all, my Lord is in control. Not the surgeons/doctors who were paid by OHIP (Ontario Health Insurance Plan) to drop by to see me, while in hospital.
Thinking about how Jesus healed many people, several Bible verses came to mind.
One was Luke 8:48, "And he said unto her, Daughter, be of good comfort: thy faith hath made thee whole; go in peace."
Yes, Jesus healed many people. Not just those he physically saw or touched, either.
And, nothing is impossible for Him. Jesus can heal me. And, I reconfirmed to myself that I would continue to trust Him, to heal me. Completely.
Until next time...
If you would like to comment, please e-mail: lifewithlynnie@gmail.com
Sunday, May 19, 2013
Looking to Jesus...
Hopefully you are aware, that here on Life with Lynnie (LwL) today's entry was not written and published on this date.
Instead, I have been writing daily entries and have been writing a second (2nd) entry daily, where I am catching up discussing issues and daily activities giving you an idea of what happened with/to me, while I was in hospital for 15 days. This is a one of those entries.
In yesterday's entry, I wrote about having a bit of freedom. And, how grateful I was that rather than being confined to the private room I was placed in during my entire stay in hospital, I was actually allowed to walk the halls from time to time. Well, at least, as long as I didn't touch anything, or anyone.
There were other things I was thankful for. Like how God provided in various ways, giving me things to do, to occupy my time.
My private room #810 came complete with a radio/cd player that was on top of a moveable wardrobe unit. One of my nurses was kind enough to lift it down for me, placing it on triple drawered cabinet on wheels that most people use for flowers, cards, or personal items, etc.
My beautiful plants were seated on the window ledge, where I believe they were happier, in the long run!
With the radio being closer to the exterior wall, I had hoped I would have better reception. This wasn't the case, totally.
Even though I love music, when I listen to the radio, I prefer to listen to preachers/teachers. The two (2) radio stations I normally listen to didn't seem to be available clearly, when I first attempted to listen.
In fact, I could only receive one (1) of the Christian stations that I normally listen to. And, the reception wasn't very clear, when I set it up, late in the day.
The next morning, it seemed the reception was improved. I praised God for this, and moved the drawer cabinet slightly to allow the antenna a different placement.
To my surprise, the radio station came in almost clear! For this, I praised God!
And, I appreciated that I was able to listen to some of the programmes and some of my favourite preachers/teachers who were on radio, in the morning schedule.
Every morning, I turned on the radio and listened to God's Word being preached/taught. While doing this, most often I ate my breakfast at this time. And later, worked on Sudoku and Crossword puzzles that I had received books of, from my daughter P.
During my radio listening time, I also received my super-antibiotics, intravenously (by IV). Being hooked up to the pole and pump meant that it wasn't easy to move around, so it worked out well for me.
After both my treatment and radio programmes were done, then I usually had my shower and got cleaned up, for the day.
During more treatment times, I would generally read. Usually, my Bible. But, I also read some non-Christian books.
During evening treatment times, I would use my small tablet that I had brought with me.
Yes, the hospital offered free wifi, but with so many rules of use involved, I wasn't able to access, write and/or publish anything here on LwL. It was against the rules.
The hospital rules clearly stated that use was monitored. If the rules were broken, accessibility would be permanently cut off. Without warning.
So, instead of doing what I had hoped to do, I watched some Canadian television stations.
Unfortunately, I only went on Facebook (FB) only a couple of times. For some reason, I had trouble even posting a short message.
I couldn't even watch a movie or any YouTube videos. Every time I tried to do so, it seemed the signal died out. That's when I realized that the hospital didn't want you using the wifi in this manner.
The best part about reading, was the fact that I did a lot of it.
As I mentioned, I did read my Bible. In fact, I read so much of my Bible that I am well ahead of where I normally am, on my annual plan to read through the Bible in a year.
In fact, by the time I was discharged, I had begun reading in the book of John, in the New Testament!
How grateful I was that God had provided things for me to do, during the 15 days I was a patient at the hospital.
Thinking of how I was trusting in my Lord to provide for me, reminded me of Hebrews 12:2, "Looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith; who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the right hand of the throne of God."
Yes, I was grateful that my Lord, Jesus Christ made a way where there wasn't one, for me. In so many ways, including ensuring that I was able to have a little bit of fun time, and wasn't bored to tears all day long, while receiving medical care.
Thank You, Lord!
Until next time...
If you would like to comment, please e-mail: lifewithlynnie@gmail.com
Instead, I have been writing daily entries and have been writing a second (2nd) entry daily, where I am catching up discussing issues and daily activities giving you an idea of what happened with/to me, while I was in hospital for 15 days. This is a one of those entries.
In yesterday's entry, I wrote about having a bit of freedom. And, how grateful I was that rather than being confined to the private room I was placed in during my entire stay in hospital, I was actually allowed to walk the halls from time to time. Well, at least, as long as I didn't touch anything, or anyone.
There were other things I was thankful for. Like how God provided in various ways, giving me things to do, to occupy my time.
My private room #810 came complete with a radio/cd player that was on top of a moveable wardrobe unit. One of my nurses was kind enough to lift it down for me, placing it on triple drawered cabinet on wheels that most people use for flowers, cards, or personal items, etc.
My beautiful plants were seated on the window ledge, where I believe they were happier, in the long run!
With the radio being closer to the exterior wall, I had hoped I would have better reception. This wasn't the case, totally.
Even though I love music, when I listen to the radio, I prefer to listen to preachers/teachers. The two (2) radio stations I normally listen to didn't seem to be available clearly, when I first attempted to listen.
In fact, I could only receive one (1) of the Christian stations that I normally listen to. And, the reception wasn't very clear, when I set it up, late in the day.
The next morning, it seemed the reception was improved. I praised God for this, and moved the drawer cabinet slightly to allow the antenna a different placement.
To my surprise, the radio station came in almost clear! For this, I praised God!
And, I appreciated that I was able to listen to some of the programmes and some of my favourite preachers/teachers who were on radio, in the morning schedule.
Every morning, I turned on the radio and listened to God's Word being preached/taught. While doing this, most often I ate my breakfast at this time. And later, worked on Sudoku and Crossword puzzles that I had received books of, from my daughter P.
During my radio listening time, I also received my super-antibiotics, intravenously (by IV). Being hooked up to the pole and pump meant that it wasn't easy to move around, so it worked out well for me.
After both my treatment and radio programmes were done, then I usually had my shower and got cleaned up, for the day.
During more treatment times, I would generally read. Usually, my Bible. But, I also read some non-Christian books.
During evening treatment times, I would use my small tablet that I had brought with me.
Yes, the hospital offered free wifi, but with so many rules of use involved, I wasn't able to access, write and/or publish anything here on LwL. It was against the rules.
The hospital rules clearly stated that use was monitored. If the rules were broken, accessibility would be permanently cut off. Without warning.
So, instead of doing what I had hoped to do, I watched some Canadian television stations.
Unfortunately, I only went on Facebook (FB) only a couple of times. For some reason, I had trouble even posting a short message.
I couldn't even watch a movie or any YouTube videos. Every time I tried to do so, it seemed the signal died out. That's when I realized that the hospital didn't want you using the wifi in this manner.
The best part about reading, was the fact that I did a lot of it.
As I mentioned, I did read my Bible. In fact, I read so much of my Bible that I am well ahead of where I normally am, on my annual plan to read through the Bible in a year.
In fact, by the time I was discharged, I had begun reading in the book of John, in the New Testament!
How grateful I was that God had provided things for me to do, during the 15 days I was a patient at the hospital.
Thinking of how I was trusting in my Lord to provide for me, reminded me of Hebrews 12:2, "Looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith; who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the right hand of the throne of God."
Yes, I was grateful that my Lord, Jesus Christ made a way where there wasn't one, for me. In so many ways, including ensuring that I was able to have a little bit of fun time, and wasn't bored to tears all day long, while receiving medical care.
Thank You, Lord!
Until next time...
If you would like to comment, please e-mail: lifewithlynnie@gmail.com
Saturday, May 18, 2013
A Sound Mind...
Today's Life with Lynnie (LwL) entry was not written and posted on this date. If you've been reading, you'll know that I was in hospital and was not able to write and publish any entries.
However, knowing that I want to keep you informed as to my happenings, I decided to take the time to fill in the gap, and post information for you.
Yesterday, I wrote about how shocked I was that a nurse would ask me if I knew about Tuberculosis (TB). As I mentioned in that entry, I was concerned that the woman who had shared my room and nearly coughed to death, may have had TB. No answer was given to me.
Knowing that I felt like I was still in a state of shock, finding out that I had the staph infection MRSA and that I needed to be healed or the mesh inside me might have to be removed, I did my best to stay calm. Whenever I found myself becoming upset, I would focus on Jesus. And, take deep breaths.
One thing that did affect me, was feeling like I was imprisoned.
Being in a private room, with not much space and not being able to leave the area, began to have an effect on me. Once again, I kept telling myself to breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth.
At this time, I still felt like was in shock over everything that had transpired. And, I found myself praying to overcome a feeling of depression that seemed to cloud my thinking from time, to time.
Doing this and imagining Jesus in my mind, while praying helped me calm down.
Even so, there came a time when I asked if I could go for a walk. After all, for many years, ever since finding out that I have Ankylosing Spondylitis (AS), a rare Rheumatoid arthritic condition, an auto-immune disease sort of like Lupus or MS, I've known that I need a blend of standing, sitting, and walking, to keep myself in the best physical condition I can.
Since it had been determined that I was not physically contagious, one of my nurses agreed to go for a walk with me.
You see, my own condition had not much to do with hospital protocol. They had to follow the rules, and so did I.
But, once they knew I wasn't a high risk to anyone, my walking began.
After a few times of having nurses walk with me, they agreed to allow me to walk by myself. In order to do this, I had to promise to not touch anyone or anything. Believe me when I say I agreed to do this!
2 Timothy 1:7, "For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind."
I was grateful that God helped me, by allowing me some freedom. Even if it was only freedom to walk on my own.
And, I was grateful that He helped me to not be overcome with fear. Every time I began to feel fearful, I turned my thinking to my Lord, Jesus. My Great Physician, for whom all things are possible.
And, I praised God for giving me the grace to deal with the situation.
Until next time...
If you would like to comment, please e-mail: lifewithlynnie@gmail.com
However, knowing that I want to keep you informed as to my happenings, I decided to take the time to fill in the gap, and post information for you.
Yesterday, I wrote about how shocked I was that a nurse would ask me if I knew about Tuberculosis (TB). As I mentioned in that entry, I was concerned that the woman who had shared my room and nearly coughed to death, may have had TB. No answer was given to me.
Knowing that I felt like I was still in a state of shock, finding out that I had the staph infection MRSA and that I needed to be healed or the mesh inside me might have to be removed, I did my best to stay calm. Whenever I found myself becoming upset, I would focus on Jesus. And, take deep breaths.
One thing that did affect me, was feeling like I was imprisoned.
Being in a private room, with not much space and not being able to leave the area, began to have an effect on me. Once again, I kept telling myself to breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth.
At this time, I still felt like was in shock over everything that had transpired. And, I found myself praying to overcome a feeling of depression that seemed to cloud my thinking from time, to time.
Doing this and imagining Jesus in my mind, while praying helped me calm down.
Even so, there came a time when I asked if I could go for a walk. After all, for many years, ever since finding out that I have Ankylosing Spondylitis (AS), a rare Rheumatoid arthritic condition, an auto-immune disease sort of like Lupus or MS, I've known that I need a blend of standing, sitting, and walking, to keep myself in the best physical condition I can.
Since it had been determined that I was not physically contagious, one of my nurses agreed to go for a walk with me.
You see, my own condition had not much to do with hospital protocol. They had to follow the rules, and so did I.
But, once they knew I wasn't a high risk to anyone, my walking began.
After a few times of having nurses walk with me, they agreed to allow me to walk by myself. In order to do this, I had to promise to not touch anyone or anything. Believe me when I say I agreed to do this!
2 Timothy 1:7, "For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind."
I was grateful that God helped me, by allowing me some freedom. Even if it was only freedom to walk on my own.
And, I was grateful that He helped me to not be overcome with fear. Every time I began to feel fearful, I turned my thinking to my Lord, Jesus. My Great Physician, for whom all things are possible.
And, I praised God for giving me the grace to deal with the situation.
Until next time...
If you would like to comment, please e-mail: lifewithlynnie@gmail.com
Friday, May 17, 2013
Truth?
Like previous days, I've been writing these Life with Lynnie (LwL) entries, to let you know about my life happenings during the time period when I couldn't write and post entries, due to being hospitalized. Today's entry may be posted as May 17th, but the fact is, it was written early in June.
Yesterday, I posted on our Lord's day, about how grateful I was that my daughters, who are also moms, visited me at the hospital on Mother's Day. Knowing that the hospital didn't want children to come visit, I didn't expect to see mine, since they would actually have to leave their families behind, on a day when they themselves were to be honoured.
Once again, I thank you, both. I'm grateful for your love and support.
One thing I have not yet mentioned was something that happened earlier that Sunday.
Immediately, after being moved into private room #810, a nurse came to see me. She wanted to do some testing and take some blood.
Thinking this is absolutely normal, I wasn't concerned. At least, not until she asked me if I knew what 'TB' was.
TB???!!!
Shockingly, I replied that indeed, I did know what TB was. Tuberculosis (TB). Here's a LINK so you can read about it.
The nurse was surprised I knew about it. I explained to her that my grandmother on my dad's side of the family had Tuberculosis when my dad was a youngster.
In fact, my granny had spent seven (7) years in a sanatorium, due to having TB. For those who don't know what a sanatorium is, I've included a LINK, so you can read for yourself, that it is a hospital-like place where people were treated for Tuberculosis.
Back in the late 1920's, and 1930's, treatment was very different than it is, today. After all, back then, they didn't have antibiotics, the way they do today.
So, my granny suffered, until they finally collapsed her lung, to cure her of the disease.
The nurse was surprised to hear this from me. But, she wasn't as shocked as I was about hearing her ask me about whether or not I knew what TB was!
Then, I asked her why she was testing me, and taking blood from me, etc. She didn't respond. Instead, she carried on doing what she needed to do, on my hand, then took blood from my arm.
Be still my heart.
After the nurse left, a thought occurred to me. Was this what the elderly woman had, who had been sleeping only a few feet from me?
I'm referring to the one who had coughed harder than I had ever heard anyone cough. The one who I thought would die from coughing.
My roommate in room #711, who the nurses wouldn't tell me what she had, or who she was.
Sigh...
I never got an answer.
Not from the nurses, not from my surgeon/doctor, nor from the infection specialist who was also working with me.
I believe it is possible that the nurse wanted me to know the truth, without actually telling me. After all, our governmental laws would not permit the truth to be told.
But, God is different. After all, he told us in John 8:32, "And ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free."
Yes, I know. Someone may think I am misquoting this verse.
Especially since it refers to Jesus... for He is Truth... who makes us free. And, I trust Him.
Still, He did tell us that He is the Way, the Truth, and the Life and that no one comes to the Father, but by Him (John 14:6).
He always reveals truth to us. At least, to those who belong to Him. I may not always like what is revealed, but I am grateful for the truth. His truth!
Until next time...
If you would like to comment, please e-mail: lifewithlynnie@gmail.com
Yesterday, I posted on our Lord's day, about how grateful I was that my daughters, who are also moms, visited me at the hospital on Mother's Day. Knowing that the hospital didn't want children to come visit, I didn't expect to see mine, since they would actually have to leave their families behind, on a day when they themselves were to be honoured.
Once again, I thank you, both. I'm grateful for your love and support.
One thing I have not yet mentioned was something that happened earlier that Sunday.
Immediately, after being moved into private room #810, a nurse came to see me. She wanted to do some testing and take some blood.
Thinking this is absolutely normal, I wasn't concerned. At least, not until she asked me if I knew what 'TB' was.
TB???!!!
Shockingly, I replied that indeed, I did know what TB was. Tuberculosis (TB). Here's a LINK so you can read about it.
The nurse was surprised I knew about it. I explained to her that my grandmother on my dad's side of the family had Tuberculosis when my dad was a youngster.
In fact, my granny had spent seven (7) years in a sanatorium, due to having TB. For those who don't know what a sanatorium is, I've included a LINK, so you can read for yourself, that it is a hospital-like place where people were treated for Tuberculosis.
Back in the late 1920's, and 1930's, treatment was very different than it is, today. After all, back then, they didn't have antibiotics, the way they do today.
So, my granny suffered, until they finally collapsed her lung, to cure her of the disease.
The nurse was surprised to hear this from me. But, she wasn't as shocked as I was about hearing her ask me about whether or not I knew what TB was!
Then, I asked her why she was testing me, and taking blood from me, etc. She didn't respond. Instead, she carried on doing what she needed to do, on my hand, then took blood from my arm.
Be still my heart.
After the nurse left, a thought occurred to me. Was this what the elderly woman had, who had been sleeping only a few feet from me?
I'm referring to the one who had coughed harder than I had ever heard anyone cough. The one who I thought would die from coughing.
My roommate in room #711, who the nurses wouldn't tell me what she had, or who she was.
Sigh...
I never got an answer.
Not from the nurses, not from my surgeon/doctor, nor from the infection specialist who was also working with me.
I believe it is possible that the nurse wanted me to know the truth, without actually telling me. After all, our governmental laws would not permit the truth to be told.
But, God is different. After all, he told us in John 8:32, "And ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free."
Yes, I know. Someone may think I am misquoting this verse.
Especially since it refers to Jesus... for He is Truth... who makes us free. And, I trust Him.
Still, He did tell us that He is the Way, the Truth, and the Life and that no one comes to the Father, but by Him (John 14:6).
He always reveals truth to us. At least, to those who belong to Him. I may not always like what is revealed, but I am grateful for the truth. His truth!
Until next time...
If you would like to comment, please e-mail: lifewithlynnie@gmail.com
Thursday, May 16, 2013
Mother's Day Blessings!
If you read yesterday's Life with Lynnie (LwL) entry, you'll know that on this date, I was still in hospital. And, was unable to write/publish any entries for LwL. So, now that I am home, I'm not only writing daily entries, but am writing this and other entries to fill in the time and information about my hospital stay.
When I left off yesterday, I was finally moved into private room #810, on the hospital's Neurological Floor.
I was unhappy about finding out that I obtained MRSA at the hospital, especially since I believe I contracted it during surgery in the operating room, last September. And, I wasn't really happy that it caused me to have to be isolated.
Even so, I was grateful that God provided for me, and blessed me with a comfortable space for me to be treated in. And, I was grateful that by having my own private washroom and shower, I didn't have to worry about picking up anyone else's germs, etc.
In the afternoon, I was surprised to have visitors.
Okay, you probably think that's a rather silly remark. But, to me, I was surprised.
After all, that Sunday, was Mother's Day.
My children have families of their own, so I was sure they would spend time together and probably avoid coming to the hospital, as it would take up some of their valuable time.
Knowing that my daughter B had a broken foot, I truly didn't think that I would see her at any time, during my hospital stay. After all, it's not easy to walk through the hospital at any time. And, knowing that several of the elevators were not working, I was truly shocked to see her!
A friend of B's drove her. It made her walking somewhat easier. I was grateful to both my daughter and her friend, for honouring me with a visit.
One person I thought might visit, even though she herself had a family that would want to honour her, was my daughter P. And, she did. Visit me, I mean.
How wonderful it was to see her! Although I must admit, since P had been visiting almost every day, I didn't think she would take time out from her own family to drive over and visit me. But, I am grateful she did.
The gifts my daughters brought me, were greatly appreciated. I loved them. Thank you.
Talk about feeling blessed... and loved. Wow!
While there are many Bible verses that apply here, I thought of 1 John 4:7, "Beloved, let us love one another: for love is of God; and every one that loveth is born of God, and knoweth God."
The hospital had advised that no children should come, in case of germs/virus, etc. being shared. This meant that my grandchildren should not visit with me.
Knowing this, I thank both my daughters for coming and spending time with me at the hospital on that special day, when they themselves were to be honoured. May God bless you...
Of course, God told us that we would feel loved, and be loved. Especially, by Him.
And, we know that there is no greater love than what Jesus has for us.
Until next time...
If you would like to comment, please e-mail: lifewithlynnie@gmail.com
When I left off yesterday, I was finally moved into private room #810, on the hospital's Neurological Floor.
I was unhappy about finding out that I obtained MRSA at the hospital, especially since I believe I contracted it during surgery in the operating room, last September. And, I wasn't really happy that it caused me to have to be isolated.
Even so, I was grateful that God provided for me, and blessed me with a comfortable space for me to be treated in. And, I was grateful that by having my own private washroom and shower, I didn't have to worry about picking up anyone else's germs, etc.
In the afternoon, I was surprised to have visitors.
Okay, you probably think that's a rather silly remark. But, to me, I was surprised.
After all, that Sunday, was Mother's Day.
My children have families of their own, so I was sure they would spend time together and probably avoid coming to the hospital, as it would take up some of their valuable time.
Knowing that my daughter B had a broken foot, I truly didn't think that I would see her at any time, during my hospital stay. After all, it's not easy to walk through the hospital at any time. And, knowing that several of the elevators were not working, I was truly shocked to see her!
A friend of B's drove her. It made her walking somewhat easier. I was grateful to both my daughter and her friend, for honouring me with a visit.
One person I thought might visit, even though she herself had a family that would want to honour her, was my daughter P. And, she did. Visit me, I mean.
How wonderful it was to see her! Although I must admit, since P had been visiting almost every day, I didn't think she would take time out from her own family to drive over and visit me. But, I am grateful she did.
The gifts my daughters brought me, were greatly appreciated. I loved them. Thank you.
Talk about feeling blessed... and loved. Wow!
While there are many Bible verses that apply here, I thought of 1 John 4:7, "Beloved, let us love one another: for love is of God; and every one that loveth is born of God, and knoweth God."
The hospital had advised that no children should come, in case of germs/virus, etc. being shared. This meant that my grandchildren should not visit with me.
Knowing this, I thank both my daughters for coming and spending time with me at the hospital on that special day, when they themselves were to be honoured. May God bless you...
Of course, God told us that we would feel loved, and be loved. Especially, by Him.
And, we know that there is no greater love than what Jesus has for us.
Until next time...
If you would like to comment, please e-mail: lifewithlynnie@gmail.com
Wednesday, May 15, 2013
Darkness & Light...
As I am sure you know, I did not write today's Life with Lynnie (LwL) entry while I was hospital. Instead, at home I've been writing entries daily, along with entries like this one, so you can read about my happenings, while hospitalized.
Yesterday, I explained how the general manager of the hospital came to see me, after the terribleness that occurred in room #711, with that elderly woman and her son.
After the general manager left, I began to question if he was sincere, or not.
His demeanour reminded me of the floor manager that I had much contact with, when my Gordon was in the intensive care unit (ICU). That fellow came across as a good Christian. But, in my mind, the truth came out, when he wanted to end my husband's life, instead of trusting God for the circumstances.
A few hours later, a nurse came to me and told me I would be moving to room #810. A private room, one floor up from where I currently was located.
Just before they moved me, my bed and my personal items, the general manager returned to see me. He confirmed that I would be moved to the private room. And, once again, he apologized for how I had been treated.
It wasn't easy being moved to the new room.
I don't believe I have mentioned this previously, but there were several elevators that were not working. Normally, the elevator company under contract for repairs would come and do their thing.
Not at that time, though.
Apparently, the hospital tried to hire others to come and get the elevators working, but everyone contacted refused to do it. Why? Because the company employees were on strike. And, no one wanted to cross the 'picket line'.
My heart sunk when I heard from one nurse that it was almost impossible to get to ICU, due to the elevators near the entrance that weren't working. I felt badly for families of those receiving treatment, in that department.
Eventually, we arrived at my new room.
Room #810 was a lovely room. And, definitely a private room. It couldn't be used for anything more, since there wouldn't have been room for a second (2nd) bed, even if they tried.
It wasn't surprising that I had my own private washroom. What was surprising, was the fact that the private washroom had it's own shower unit.
The nurses commented that it seemed I had won the lottery.
If it hadn't been that my reduced immune system had contributed to me picking up the staph virus MRSA, I might have agreed with them. But, if I hadn't been suffering from the MRSA, I also wouldn't have ever been moved to this special room.
So, even though I heard those comments a few times, I didn't agree. I did comment that it was a lovely room.
It didn't surprise me that God had made provision for me. After all, I belong to Him.
He knows His children live in an evil world. And, suffer various trials in their lives. Some, like me.
Thinking about this reminded me of John 10:10, "The thief cometh not, but for to steal, and to kill, and to destroy: I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly."
While I would have felt better about the situation, had I not been put at risk with that contagious patient in room #711, I was grateful for the room I was moved to. At least, I wouldn't be placed in any further situations that could contribute to further illness. I praised God for this!
After all, God is in control. And, He provided for me, even in the darkness of the evil situation. And, He through His light, provided for me.
While He told us that the evil one comes to rob, kill and destroy, we know that our God, came to give us life. And, life more abundantly.
I praise God for this! Hallelujah!
Until next time...
If you would like to comment, please e-mail: lifewithlynnie@gmail.com
Yesterday, I explained how the general manager of the hospital came to see me, after the terribleness that occurred in room #711, with that elderly woman and her son.
After the general manager left, I began to question if he was sincere, or not.
His demeanour reminded me of the floor manager that I had much contact with, when my Gordon was in the intensive care unit (ICU). That fellow came across as a good Christian. But, in my mind, the truth came out, when he wanted to end my husband's life, instead of trusting God for the circumstances.
A few hours later, a nurse came to me and told me I would be moving to room #810. A private room, one floor up from where I currently was located.
Just before they moved me, my bed and my personal items, the general manager returned to see me. He confirmed that I would be moved to the private room. And, once again, he apologized for how I had been treated.
It wasn't easy being moved to the new room.
I don't believe I have mentioned this previously, but there were several elevators that were not working. Normally, the elevator company under contract for repairs would come and do their thing.
Not at that time, though.
Apparently, the hospital tried to hire others to come and get the elevators working, but everyone contacted refused to do it. Why? Because the company employees were on strike. And, no one wanted to cross the 'picket line'.
My heart sunk when I heard from one nurse that it was almost impossible to get to ICU, due to the elevators near the entrance that weren't working. I felt badly for families of those receiving treatment, in that department.
Eventually, we arrived at my new room.
Room #810 was a lovely room. And, definitely a private room. It couldn't be used for anything more, since there wouldn't have been room for a second (2nd) bed, even if they tried.
It wasn't surprising that I had my own private washroom. What was surprising, was the fact that the private washroom had it's own shower unit.
The nurses commented that it seemed I had won the lottery.
If it hadn't been that my reduced immune system had contributed to me picking up the staph virus MRSA, I might have agreed with them. But, if I hadn't been suffering from the MRSA, I also wouldn't have ever been moved to this special room.
So, even though I heard those comments a few times, I didn't agree. I did comment that it was a lovely room.
It didn't surprise me that God had made provision for me. After all, I belong to Him.
He knows His children live in an evil world. And, suffer various trials in their lives. Some, like me.
Thinking about this reminded me of John 10:10, "The thief cometh not, but for to steal, and to kill, and to destroy: I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly."
While I would have felt better about the situation, had I not been put at risk with that contagious patient in room #711, I was grateful for the room I was moved to. At least, I wouldn't be placed in any further situations that could contribute to further illness. I praised God for this!
After all, God is in control. And, He provided for me, even in the darkness of the evil situation. And, He through His light, provided for me.
While He told us that the evil one comes to rob, kill and destroy, we know that our God, came to give us life. And, life more abundantly.
I praise God for this! Hallelujah!
Until next time...
If you would like to comment, please e-mail: lifewithlynnie@gmail.com
Tuesday, May 14, 2013
Where is God?
By now, I'm sure you realize that on this date, I was not able to write and post entries for Life with Lynnie (LwL). I was in hospital.
Now that I'm home, I'm writing not only my daily entry like I previously did, but I'm also writing an entry from the time when I was hospitalized, so you will know happenings of my life, at that time.
This entry, is one of those.
When I left off previously, I told you about my upsetting night, having to share my room with a strange man, who wasn't even a patient at the hospital. In addition, I wrote about how sick his mom truly was and how I was upset that I, a person with a compromised immune system, had been forced to share a room with this elderly woman, who I suspected was highly contagious.
No, I don't know what it was she had, to be sure. But, I do know that if I get sick, involving a cough, I'll be darkening the hospital's doorway, to be sure.
Early in the morning, the nurse who had handed me the MRSA pamphlet, when she told me I tested positive for that staph infection, visited me, once again. This time, she let me know I was definitely being moved that day, to a private room.
Sure, I thought. Just like they told me the day before.
She let me know that the hospital's general manager would be coming to visit me. Apparently, even though this was Sunday, and Mother's Day, he was scheduled to attend a meeting at the hospital, concerning the C difficile problem and the problem of the hospital running at about 105% capacity.
The fellow did come see me. At first, I thought he might give me a hard time, for being upset the way I had been. But, I was wrong.
Instead, this man apologized to me. He let me know he had been told all that had transpired. And, he let me know that he wished the privacy act would allow him to tell me what the woman had, but he couldn't. However, he did confirm to me that she was indeed, contagious.
Along with his apology, he let me know that at the end of his scheduled meeting, he and others would be determining, who should be moved and where they should be moved to. He insisted I would be moved to a private room, as was part of the hospital's protocol, concerning MRSA.
Did this make me feel better? Not really. The damage had already been done. At least, in my opinion.
Think about it. My compromised immune system had made me a high risk to contract MRSA in the hospital. And, I had somehow gotten it.
Then, during the previous night, I had been placed at risk once again, next to a patient that was highly contagious.
Inside, I still felt ill at ease. Even so, I took a deep breath, and slowly breathed out, once again.
There was no point in being upset, again. Even if I felt angry. No one would listen. And, the truth was, no one truly cared.
Besides, God is in control.
Bible verses flashed through my mind, as I made an effort to calm down. Truly, I cannot recall every verse that came to mind, but upon reflecting as I wrote this entry, Psalm 115:1-3 came to mind, "Not unto us, O Lord, not unto us, but unto thy name give glory, for thy mercy, and for thy truth's sake. Wherefore should the heathen say, Where is now their God? But our God is in the heavens: he hath done whatsoever he hath pleased."
Being a Bible-believing, born-again Christian, I realized that my God would do things and allow circumstances to happen in my life, that would not honour me, but rather, honour Him. He will do as He pleases, and allow in my life, what He will allow. Even if the unsaved look at our situations at hand, and question where our God, actually is.
I praise God that I know Him. And, that I understand where He is. And, how He works.
Until next time...
If you would like to comment, please e-mail: lifewithlynnie@gmail.com
Now that I'm home, I'm writing not only my daily entry like I previously did, but I'm also writing an entry from the time when I was hospitalized, so you will know happenings of my life, at that time.
This entry, is one of those.
When I left off previously, I told you about my upsetting night, having to share my room with a strange man, who wasn't even a patient at the hospital. In addition, I wrote about how sick his mom truly was and how I was upset that I, a person with a compromised immune system, had been forced to share a room with this elderly woman, who I suspected was highly contagious.
No, I don't know what it was she had, to be sure. But, I do know that if I get sick, involving a cough, I'll be darkening the hospital's doorway, to be sure.
Early in the morning, the nurse who had handed me the MRSA pamphlet, when she told me I tested positive for that staph infection, visited me, once again. This time, she let me know I was definitely being moved that day, to a private room.
Sure, I thought. Just like they told me the day before.
She let me know that the hospital's general manager would be coming to visit me. Apparently, even though this was Sunday, and Mother's Day, he was scheduled to attend a meeting at the hospital, concerning the C difficile problem and the problem of the hospital running at about 105% capacity.
The fellow did come see me. At first, I thought he might give me a hard time, for being upset the way I had been. But, I was wrong.
Instead, this man apologized to me. He let me know he had been told all that had transpired. And, he let me know that he wished the privacy act would allow him to tell me what the woman had, but he couldn't. However, he did confirm to me that she was indeed, contagious.
Along with his apology, he let me know that at the end of his scheduled meeting, he and others would be determining, who should be moved and where they should be moved to. He insisted I would be moved to a private room, as was part of the hospital's protocol, concerning MRSA.
Did this make me feel better? Not really. The damage had already been done. At least, in my opinion.
Think about it. My compromised immune system had made me a high risk to contract MRSA in the hospital. And, I had somehow gotten it.
Then, during the previous night, I had been placed at risk once again, next to a patient that was highly contagious.
Inside, I still felt ill at ease. Even so, I took a deep breath, and slowly breathed out, once again.
There was no point in being upset, again. Even if I felt angry. No one would listen. And, the truth was, no one truly cared.
Besides, God is in control.
Bible verses flashed through my mind, as I made an effort to calm down. Truly, I cannot recall every verse that came to mind, but upon reflecting as I wrote this entry, Psalm 115:1-3 came to mind, "Not unto us, O Lord, not unto us, but unto thy name give glory, for thy mercy, and for thy truth's sake. Wherefore should the heathen say, Where is now their God? But our God is in the heavens: he hath done whatsoever he hath pleased."
Being a Bible-believing, born-again Christian, I realized that my God would do things and allow circumstances to happen in my life, that would not honour me, but rather, honour Him. He will do as He pleases, and allow in my life, what He will allow. Even if the unsaved look at our situations at hand, and question where our God, actually is.
I praise God that I know Him. And, that I understand where He is. And, how He works.
Until next time...
If you would like to comment, please e-mail: lifewithlynnie@gmail.com
Monday, May 13, 2013
Sleeping With a Stranger & More...
When I left off in yesterday's Life with Lynnie (LwL) entry, getting caught up in filling in details from when I was in hospital, I had just found out that I had tested positive for MRSA. A staph infection. One that I probably picked up in the operating room, during my surgery last September.
Yes, I was fortunate. Apparently, it was contained to my wound area in my gut and not on my skin, nor airborne in nature.
Even though I was not 'contagious', the hospital still had to follow protocol. I had to be isolated.
As I mentioned, I had been told that I was to be moved to a private room. This didn't happen on that Saturday morning of May 11th.
Instead, I was moved into a semi-private room, #711. Just up the hall from where several people were suffering with C difficile, a bacterial infection that some patients had acquired at the hospital. Here's a Windsor Star article of May 10, 2013 entitled, Hotel-Dieu Grace on alert over C difficile cases: http://blogs.windsorstar.com/2013/05/10/hotel-dieu-grace-on-alert-over-c-difficile-cases/.
When I was wheeled into the room, there weren't curtains enveloping the area of where my bed was to be parked. And, the elderly woman who was occupying the room wasn't in her bed.
Instead, she was seated in a chair, outside the curtained area. And, coughed periodically.
Eventually, a woman showed up and installed enough curtains to complete the enclosure of my bed.
Later, her son told me that he and his sister had been taking turns staying overnight with their mom. He claimed she couldn't speak English.
When his sister arrived at the hospital, I felt like I was happy that it was she staying in the room, and not him. But, I was wrong. Apparently, she couldn't stay long. He was going to stay in the room overnight.
I spoke with my nurse, letting her know that I didn't feel comfortable with the idea of a stranger, a man, sleeping in my room, with me. After all, males and females do not usually share rooms in hospitals. And, he wasn't a patient.
My nurse and another nurse spoke with him in the hallway. He was upset that I didn't feel comfortable with the idea of sharing my room with a man I didn't know.
I felt it was sinful, especially since God's Word, the Bible tells us that the appearance of evil is as bad as the evil itself. And, here I was, being forced to share my hospital room with a man. A stranger.
The nurses came and spoke with me, saying that they felt it would be okay, since he was staying because his mom couldn't speak English. I didn't agree. And, wondered why people generally bend the rules for Middle Eastern people.
Besides, I knew he was lying. I had heard his mom talking to the nurses, when he had stepped out, earlier.
It was suggested to me, that they have me sleep in the hallway, if I wasn't comfortable with sharing my room with a man I didn't know.
I took a deep breath and asked them if I was supposed to be isolated, or not. After all, if I was to be isolated, why would they want me to sleep in the hallway? And, I suggested that if anyone should sleep in the hallway, it should be this stranger, who was not a patient.
They told me he wouldn't be staying, after all.
This wasn't the truth. I kept waiting for this man to leave, but he didn't.
I laid awake half the night. Until, I heard him snoring. Then, I felt maybe I might fall asleep.
As I was drifting off, his mom began to cough. Cough? I have never heard anyone cough like that. She coughed so hard, I thought she would die.
Several nurses came to her side, to assist her. Eventually, her breathing became under control, once again.
I asked my nurse what the woman had. Like I said, I had never heard anyone cough like this. She told me that due to the privacy act, they couldn't tell me.
I asked her name. Again, I was told that they couldn't tell me, due to the privacy act.
Believe me, when I say I was upset. After all, when they moved me in that room, I was under the impression that the elderly woman had to be protected from me.
After the coughing issue she had, I knew that she was the contagious person. Not me. In reality, I was the person in danger. Yet, they had not told me that she was contagious.
I let my nurse know I wasn't happy. After all, I had been sick for more than eight (8) months, and had only found out hours before that I had MRSA. MRSA... a staph infection that is usually picked up in an operating room.
And, I let her know that I already had a reduced immune system, due to the fact that I have Ankylosing Spondylitis (AS), a rare Rheumatoid Arthritic condition, an auto-immune disease. I felt like, how dare they put someone like me at risk from someone like the elderly woman, lying next to me!
And, have to put up with a non-patient, stranger... a man, sleep in my room!
Then, the young nurse commented to me that if I were truly ill, they would allow me to have my husband stay with me, or my child. Hearing this, I commented that wasn't true.
My nurse insisted it was true.
I lost it. I actually called her a liar.
And, I let her know that my husband, Gordon... had died in that very hospital.
He had been in the intensive care unit (ICU). The hospital wanted me to give them permission to remove him from life support, because even though his vital signs were improving and he was stabilizing, they didn't want him to wake up.
They weren't like me, trusting that God would have him wake up healthy. Instead, they were convinced that he would wake up a vegetable, and if he did, it would be too late to let him die.
When I refused to contribute to Gordon's death, those in control actually began locking me out of the area. Even on the day they told me the decision was no longer mine, that they were going to pull the plug on his life, they locked me out of the area and hadn't allowed me to spend much time with him.
Yes, this is true. I sat waiting for hours, for them to allow me to be with Gordon.
Eventually, I walked into the ICU unit when another family entered. I approached Gordon's bed and nurse, and told her that she was not going to force me to leave, commenting that how would she like it if her husband was about to have his life ended, and she not allowed to spend time with him. Her reply to me was that I should get used to being without him.
And, here I was being lied to!!
Forgive me for losing it. Forgive me for writing such a lengthy entry. Forgive me, for feeling like we live in such an evil world, that there truly isn't much love.
A fitting Bible verse came to mind. Micah 2:1, "Woe to them that devise iniquity, and work evil upon their beds! when the morning is light, they practise it, because it is in the power of their hand."
But, I believe it's true. We live in a sinful world, where there isn't much love.
After all, we live in a world that is Satan's domain. He is the father of this world, of sinful people.
Still, I am grateful I have Jesus in my life.
Until next time...
If you would like to comment, please e-mail: lifewithlynnie@gmail.com
Yes, I was fortunate. Apparently, it was contained to my wound area in my gut and not on my skin, nor airborne in nature.
Even though I was not 'contagious', the hospital still had to follow protocol. I had to be isolated.
As I mentioned, I had been told that I was to be moved to a private room. This didn't happen on that Saturday morning of May 11th.
Instead, I was moved into a semi-private room, #711. Just up the hall from where several people were suffering with C difficile, a bacterial infection that some patients had acquired at the hospital. Here's a Windsor Star article of May 10, 2013 entitled, Hotel-Dieu Grace on alert over C difficile cases: http://blogs.windsorstar.com/2013/05/10/hotel-dieu-grace-on-alert-over-c-difficile-cases/.
When I was wheeled into the room, there weren't curtains enveloping the area of where my bed was to be parked. And, the elderly woman who was occupying the room wasn't in her bed.
Instead, she was seated in a chair, outside the curtained area. And, coughed periodically.
Eventually, a woman showed up and installed enough curtains to complete the enclosure of my bed.
Later, her son told me that he and his sister had been taking turns staying overnight with their mom. He claimed she couldn't speak English.
When his sister arrived at the hospital, I felt like I was happy that it was she staying in the room, and not him. But, I was wrong. Apparently, she couldn't stay long. He was going to stay in the room overnight.
I spoke with my nurse, letting her know that I didn't feel comfortable with the idea of a stranger, a man, sleeping in my room, with me. After all, males and females do not usually share rooms in hospitals. And, he wasn't a patient.
My nurse and another nurse spoke with him in the hallway. He was upset that I didn't feel comfortable with the idea of sharing my room with a man I didn't know.
I felt it was sinful, especially since God's Word, the Bible tells us that the appearance of evil is as bad as the evil itself. And, here I was, being forced to share my hospital room with a man. A stranger.
The nurses came and spoke with me, saying that they felt it would be okay, since he was staying because his mom couldn't speak English. I didn't agree. And, wondered why people generally bend the rules for Middle Eastern people.
Besides, I knew he was lying. I had heard his mom talking to the nurses, when he had stepped out, earlier.
It was suggested to me, that they have me sleep in the hallway, if I wasn't comfortable with sharing my room with a man I didn't know.
I took a deep breath and asked them if I was supposed to be isolated, or not. After all, if I was to be isolated, why would they want me to sleep in the hallway? And, I suggested that if anyone should sleep in the hallway, it should be this stranger, who was not a patient.
They told me he wouldn't be staying, after all.
This wasn't the truth. I kept waiting for this man to leave, but he didn't.
I laid awake half the night. Until, I heard him snoring. Then, I felt maybe I might fall asleep.
As I was drifting off, his mom began to cough. Cough? I have never heard anyone cough like that. She coughed so hard, I thought she would die.
Several nurses came to her side, to assist her. Eventually, her breathing became under control, once again.
I asked my nurse what the woman had. Like I said, I had never heard anyone cough like this. She told me that due to the privacy act, they couldn't tell me.
I asked her name. Again, I was told that they couldn't tell me, due to the privacy act.
Believe me, when I say I was upset. After all, when they moved me in that room, I was under the impression that the elderly woman had to be protected from me.
After the coughing issue she had, I knew that she was the contagious person. Not me. In reality, I was the person in danger. Yet, they had not told me that she was contagious.
I let my nurse know I wasn't happy. After all, I had been sick for more than eight (8) months, and had only found out hours before that I had MRSA. MRSA... a staph infection that is usually picked up in an operating room.
And, I let her know that I already had a reduced immune system, due to the fact that I have Ankylosing Spondylitis (AS), a rare Rheumatoid Arthritic condition, an auto-immune disease. I felt like, how dare they put someone like me at risk from someone like the elderly woman, lying next to me!
And, have to put up with a non-patient, stranger... a man, sleep in my room!
Then, the young nurse commented to me that if I were truly ill, they would allow me to have my husband stay with me, or my child. Hearing this, I commented that wasn't true.
My nurse insisted it was true.
I lost it. I actually called her a liar.
And, I let her know that my husband, Gordon... had died in that very hospital.
He had been in the intensive care unit (ICU). The hospital wanted me to give them permission to remove him from life support, because even though his vital signs were improving and he was stabilizing, they didn't want him to wake up.
They weren't like me, trusting that God would have him wake up healthy. Instead, they were convinced that he would wake up a vegetable, and if he did, it would be too late to let him die.
When I refused to contribute to Gordon's death, those in control actually began locking me out of the area. Even on the day they told me the decision was no longer mine, that they were going to pull the plug on his life, they locked me out of the area and hadn't allowed me to spend much time with him.
Yes, this is true. I sat waiting for hours, for them to allow me to be with Gordon.
Eventually, I walked into the ICU unit when another family entered. I approached Gordon's bed and nurse, and told her that she was not going to force me to leave, commenting that how would she like it if her husband was about to have his life ended, and she not allowed to spend time with him. Her reply to me was that I should get used to being without him.
And, here I was being lied to!!
Forgive me for losing it. Forgive me for writing such a lengthy entry. Forgive me, for feeling like we live in such an evil world, that there truly isn't much love.
A fitting Bible verse came to mind. Micah 2:1, "Woe to them that devise iniquity, and work evil upon their beds! when the morning is light, they practise it, because it is in the power of their hand."
But, I believe it's true. We live in a sinful world, where there isn't much love.
After all, we live in a world that is Satan's domain. He is the father of this world, of sinful people.
Still, I am grateful I have Jesus in my life.
Until next time...
If you would like to comment, please e-mail: lifewithlynnie@gmail.com
Sunday, May 12, 2013
May 11th Shocking News!
Today's Life with Lynnie (LwL) entry will be posted as May 12, 2013, but the reality is that I was in hospital for 15 days and could not post entries during that time.
If you read yesterday's LwL entry, you'll be aware that even though I was admitted to hospital, through the hospital's emergency room (ER), I spent a couple of days in ER on a gurney. There were no available beds.
As you've probably read, I was finally given a bed in a ward in room #706. My daughter P once again requested that I be checked to see if I had picked up a staph infection, MRSA. Just before I went to sleep, I was tested.
When I awoke in the ward, on the morning of Saturday, May 11th, a nurse handed me a pamphlet. It was about MRSA. And, she told me I tested positive.
I was asked to not leave my curtained area. It was explained to me that hospital protocol was such that I had to be isolated. I was told I would be moved into a private room.
A while later, the nurse returned to speak with me. She explained that I was fortunate, in the sense that the MRSA was not on my skin; nor, was it airborne. Apparently, it was contained to my wound area, where I hadn't healed since my surgery in September 2012.
It was further explained to me, that because the MRSA was contained to my wound, I wasn't able to spread the disease. I praised God for this!
Still, hospital protocol had to be enforced.
When I spoke with my daughter P, who had kept insisting I needed to be checked, she wasn't surprised that I indeed had MRSA. She may have not been shocked, but I was.
Sigh...
In fact, I could hardly even think about the situation, without feeling overwhelmed. So, I didn't do that. Think about it, I mean.
Instead, I shallowly breathed in through my nose and out through my mouth. While doing this, I prayed silently. And, praised my Lord, for providing for me, always.
After all, what good would it have done to become stressed and uptight? It would only have proven to be hurtful to me, in many possible ways.
Instead, I tried to focus on Bible verses. One I thought about was Psalm 34:19, "Many are the afflictions of the righteous: but the Lord delivereth him out of them all."
And, I trusted my Lord, Jesus Christ to heal me. And, am still trusting Him to deliver me from this affliction.
Instead of being moved from the ward, to the private room so I could be isolated, I was moved into a semi-private room. For those who don't know what a semi-private room is, it is a room where two (2) people share the room.
This happened after I was told that the woman they thought was being released to go home, who had been occupying the private room, had a stroke as she was getting dressed to leave the hospital.
Until next time...
If you would like to comment, please e-mail: lifewithlynnie@gmail.com
If you read yesterday's LwL entry, you'll be aware that even though I was admitted to hospital, through the hospital's emergency room (ER), I spent a couple of days in ER on a gurney. There were no available beds.
As you've probably read, I was finally given a bed in a ward in room #706. My daughter P once again requested that I be checked to see if I had picked up a staph infection, MRSA. Just before I went to sleep, I was tested.
When I awoke in the ward, on the morning of Saturday, May 11th, a nurse handed me a pamphlet. It was about MRSA. And, she told me I tested positive.
I was asked to not leave my curtained area. It was explained to me that hospital protocol was such that I had to be isolated. I was told I would be moved into a private room.
A while later, the nurse returned to speak with me. She explained that I was fortunate, in the sense that the MRSA was not on my skin; nor, was it airborne. Apparently, it was contained to my wound area, where I hadn't healed since my surgery in September 2012.
It was further explained to me, that because the MRSA was contained to my wound, I wasn't able to spread the disease. I praised God for this!
Still, hospital protocol had to be enforced.
When I spoke with my daughter P, who had kept insisting I needed to be checked, she wasn't surprised that I indeed had MRSA. She may have not been shocked, but I was.
Sigh...
In fact, I could hardly even think about the situation, without feeling overwhelmed. So, I didn't do that. Think about it, I mean.
Instead, I shallowly breathed in through my nose and out through my mouth. While doing this, I prayed silently. And, praised my Lord, for providing for me, always.
After all, what good would it have done to become stressed and uptight? It would only have proven to be hurtful to me, in many possible ways.
Instead, I tried to focus on Bible verses. One I thought about was Psalm 34:19, "Many are the afflictions of the righteous: but the Lord delivereth him out of them all."
And, I trusted my Lord, Jesus Christ to heal me. And, am still trusting Him to deliver me from this affliction.
Instead of being moved from the ward, to the private room so I could be isolated, I was moved into a semi-private room. For those who don't know what a semi-private room is, it is a room where two (2) people share the room.
This happened after I was told that the woman they thought was being released to go home, who had been occupying the private room, had a stroke as she was getting dressed to leave the hospital.
Until next time...
If you would like to comment, please e-mail: lifewithlynnie@gmail.com
Saturday, May 11, 2013
Finally, a Bed!
If you've been reading Life with Lynnie (LwL) lately, you'll know that I recently spent 15 days in hospital.
It wasn't easy becoming admitted, even though I had followed my surgeon/doctor's orders. After much waiting to get into the Emergency Room (ER) at the hospital, and much time speaking with physicians there, I was finally admitted to hospital.
Being admitted didn't actually change anything for two (2) days, except that I was able to have the required treatment of receiving strong antibiotics begun, intravenously. For this, I praise God!
The hospital was running at more than full capacity, so there were no beds available. Even though I had to wait to be moved to a room, I was grateful to be receiving treatment, even though no one knew at this time, what was preventing my healing.
Later in the evening of Friday, May 10th, I was finally moved out of ER, to room #706. A room with four (4) beds in it, commonly called a ward, here in Canada.
For many years, my extra healthcare coverage through General Motors of Canada (GM) had provided me with what is called semi-private coverage. My now deceased husband had worked at GM, prior to retiring early due to suffering with an inoperable brain tumour.
Our extended medical coverage was great over the years. Co-payments for prescriptions were low, hospital care and extended medical care coverage was excellent.
At least, it was this way, until GM claimed to be having financial trouble, a few years back.
Not only were the Canadian and American governments assisting GM in a financial bailout to keep the company viable, but employees had to agree to cut their benefits. Retirees and those like me, who have survivors pensions found their benefits were also cut.
At that time, I wasn't convinced that GM was as poorly off financially as they claimed. Since then, I am convinced the company truly wasn't.
Why? After all cutbacks were made, all of a sudden GM's financial situation changed! Today, they are expanding their business! Praise God for this!
Unfortunately, company expansion and jobs being created is not taking place in Canada. In fact, workers here have continued to lose their jobs, like when the transmission plant here in Windsor, closed.
Instead, various countries of the world are benefiting from the cutbacks that we have suffered in our benefits. Why our government didn't include clauses to have those benefits restored once the company rebounded financially, or why they didn't include requirements to keep business here in our country as part of the agreement, is beyond me.
Had I been working to make those arrangements, I would have insisted on this being done. Oh well, nothing can be done, now.
In any case, I was finally moved from ER to a bed in a ward.
After general questions and my vitals being taken, my daughter P once again asked for me to be tested for MRSA (a staph infection that can be picked up in a hospital). The test was done, just prior to me being able to go to sleep.
Was I worried about the coming results of the testing for MRSA? No. I was trusting God for the results.
I was reminded of Matthew 10:28, "And fear not them which kill the body, but are not able to kill the soul: but rather fear him which is able to destroy both soul and body in hell."
Of course, I knew in my heart that no matter the outcome of the testing, God would heal me. I had nothing to fear.
I quickly drifted off to sleep.
Until next time...
If you would like to comment, please e-mail: lifewithlynnie@gmail.com
It wasn't easy becoming admitted, even though I had followed my surgeon/doctor's orders. After much waiting to get into the Emergency Room (ER) at the hospital, and much time speaking with physicians there, I was finally admitted to hospital.
Being admitted didn't actually change anything for two (2) days, except that I was able to have the required treatment of receiving strong antibiotics begun, intravenously. For this, I praise God!
The hospital was running at more than full capacity, so there were no beds available. Even though I had to wait to be moved to a room, I was grateful to be receiving treatment, even though no one knew at this time, what was preventing my healing.
Later in the evening of Friday, May 10th, I was finally moved out of ER, to room #706. A room with four (4) beds in it, commonly called a ward, here in Canada.
For many years, my extra healthcare coverage through General Motors of Canada (GM) had provided me with what is called semi-private coverage. My now deceased husband had worked at GM, prior to retiring early due to suffering with an inoperable brain tumour.
Our extended medical coverage was great over the years. Co-payments for prescriptions were low, hospital care and extended medical care coverage was excellent.
At least, it was this way, until GM claimed to be having financial trouble, a few years back.
Not only were the Canadian and American governments assisting GM in a financial bailout to keep the company viable, but employees had to agree to cut their benefits. Retirees and those like me, who have survivors pensions found their benefits were also cut.
At that time, I wasn't convinced that GM was as poorly off financially as they claimed. Since then, I am convinced the company truly wasn't.
Why? After all cutbacks were made, all of a sudden GM's financial situation changed! Today, they are expanding their business! Praise God for this!
Unfortunately, company expansion and jobs being created is not taking place in Canada. In fact, workers here have continued to lose their jobs, like when the transmission plant here in Windsor, closed.
Instead, various countries of the world are benefiting from the cutbacks that we have suffered in our benefits. Why our government didn't include clauses to have those benefits restored once the company rebounded financially, or why they didn't include requirements to keep business here in our country as part of the agreement, is beyond me.
Had I been working to make those arrangements, I would have insisted on this being done. Oh well, nothing can be done, now.
In any case, I was finally moved from ER to a bed in a ward.
After general questions and my vitals being taken, my daughter P once again asked for me to be tested for MRSA (a staph infection that can be picked up in a hospital). The test was done, just prior to me being able to go to sleep.
Was I worried about the coming results of the testing for MRSA? No. I was trusting God for the results.
I was reminded of Matthew 10:28, "And fear not them which kill the body, but are not able to kill the soul: but rather fear him which is able to destroy both soul and body in hell."
Of course, I knew in my heart that no matter the outcome of the testing, God would heal me. I had nothing to fear.
I quickly drifted off to sleep.
Until next time...
If you would like to comment, please e-mail: lifewithlynnie@gmail.com
Friday, May 10, 2013
May 10th - ER
As like yesterday's Life with Lynnie (LwL) entry, I need to let you know that this was written and posted after I returned home from the hospital, using the date of May 10th, so you could find out about my happenings.
If you read the last couple of LwL entries, you'll know that on May 8th, I went to the Emergency Room (ER) at the hospital and after several hours waiting, finally got to be admitted.
Yes, I spent time in ER; in fact, much time. 2 days. On a gurney, not on a bed. Between my gut pain and my back and neck pain, I was given pain medication, fairly regularly.
On the evening of Wednesday, May 8th (if it was before midnight - I never saw the time), I began strong antibiotic treatment intravenously (by IV).
Thursday, May 9th I had a CT scan and afterwards had a drainage tube installed into my gut. This was to help drain off the fluid that was surrounding the mesh inside me.
Friday, May 10th, instead of using the regular hook-up in my arm for the intravenous (IV), a radiologist installed a peripherally inserted central catheter (picc) line into my arm. This is a hook up that goes into the heart area; here's a LINK to read more about it.
While in ER, my daughter P spent much time with me.
In fact, she even told the nurse(s) she wanted me tested for Methicillan-resistant Staphylococcus aureus (MRSA); here's a LINK, so you can read more, if you like.
A short time ago, she had been researching and asked me if I might have MRSA; I replied that I didn't know what that was. P explained that it is a staph infection, that a person can pick up in the operating room.
When she first mentioned it, I recalled having heard that some people at the hospital had picked up staph infections, after I had my surgery in September 2012. At that time, I recall having commented that I was happy that I was not one of them.
At the time, I felt thankful and truly blessed. After all, I didn't have to worry; God was in control and would provide for me.
I was reminded of 2 Timothy 1:7, "For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind."
After all this discussion, while in ER, I began to wonder. About the MRSA, I mean. Did I have it?
The nursing staff told P and I that they wouldn't test me while I was ER, even though I had been admitted as a patient. Instead, they would wait until I was moved into a room, and then test me.
Until next time...
If you would like to comment, please e-mail: lifewithlynnie@gmail.com
If you read the last couple of LwL entries, you'll know that on May 8th, I went to the Emergency Room (ER) at the hospital and after several hours waiting, finally got to be admitted.
Yes, I spent time in ER; in fact, much time. 2 days. On a gurney, not on a bed. Between my gut pain and my back and neck pain, I was given pain medication, fairly regularly.
On the evening of Wednesday, May 8th (if it was before midnight - I never saw the time), I began strong antibiotic treatment intravenously (by IV).
Thursday, May 9th I had a CT scan and afterwards had a drainage tube installed into my gut. This was to help drain off the fluid that was surrounding the mesh inside me.
Friday, May 10th, instead of using the regular hook-up in my arm for the intravenous (IV), a radiologist installed a peripherally inserted central catheter (picc) line into my arm. This is a hook up that goes into the heart area; here's a LINK to read more about it.
While in ER, my daughter P spent much time with me.
In fact, she even told the nurse(s) she wanted me tested for Methicillan-resistant Staphylococcus aureus (MRSA); here's a LINK, so you can read more, if you like.
A short time ago, she had been researching and asked me if I might have MRSA; I replied that I didn't know what that was. P explained that it is a staph infection, that a person can pick up in the operating room.
When she first mentioned it, I recalled having heard that some people at the hospital had picked up staph infections, after I had my surgery in September 2012. At that time, I recall having commented that I was happy that I was not one of them.
At the time, I felt thankful and truly blessed. After all, I didn't have to worry; God was in control and would provide for me.
I was reminded of 2 Timothy 1:7, "For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind."
After all this discussion, while in ER, I began to wonder. About the MRSA, I mean. Did I have it?
The nursing staff told P and I that they wouldn't test me while I was ER, even though I had been admitted as a patient. Instead, they would wait until I was moved into a room, and then test me.
Until next time...
If you would like to comment, please e-mail: lifewithlynnie@gmail.com
Thursday, May 9, 2013
May 9th - ER
Before I continue with today's Life with Lynnie (LwL) entry, I need to let you know that this was written and posted after I returned home from the hospital, using the date of May 9th, so you could find out about my happenings.
As I mentioned yesterday, I went to the hospital's Emergency Room (ER) department.
My daughter P drove me. She stayed with me for a while, then headed home to check on her family and make her children some supper.
Upon returning P picked up a pizza for us to enjoy together, in the ER waiting area. After all, they don't serve meals to those waiting, and there is nowhere in the hospital to purchase any food, other than snacks in machines. So, I was thankful to have some tasty grub, while waiting to see the ER doctor.
It was getting late, and knowing that P was exhausted after a busy day, taking her son to a London, ON hospital earlier in the day, she left to go rest. I stayed in the ER waiting area.
After waiting between five and six (5 and 6) hours, I was finally called in.
A Physician Assistant (PA) asked me why I was there. I explained what my surgeon/doctor had told me. To my surprise, her reply was shocking.
I was told that since I was already under doctor's care, I shouldn't have been there, in ER. She went on further to say that she didn't think they should treat me, nor even examine me.
Sigh... Yes, I took a deep breath.
Then, I reiterated how my physician had told me that I needed STRONG antibiotics administered Intravenously (by IV). And, I needed it done... NOW!
After much more discussion, she finally agreed to look at my gut wound, where I was leaking fluid through my skin. Her attitude changed when she saw it was infected.
I waited for a while to see the ER doctor.
When he arrived, he listened to what I had told the PA and let me know that he didn't know if he should admit me to hospital, even though my surgeon/doctor had told me that one of the ER doctors had suggested I be admitted through the ER department.
Why? To wait for a bed and be admitted by my doctor would have taken weeks; maybe months. The hospital is running at more than full capacity. Yes, people are in hallways.
The ER doctor decided to call in a surgeon.
Much later, another surgeon arrived. We discussed my situation and what instructions my surgeon/doctor had given me.
He agreed that I needed treatment, and I needed it, right then. I was admitted, even though I had to remain in the ER department for a while.
Yes, I had to wait, but at least I knew I would begin treatment I needed. Thank you, Lord!
I was reminded of Isaiah 40:31, "But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint."
I praise God for helping me. I know I could not have done anything, without Him.
Until next time...
If you would like to comment, please e-mail: lifewithlynnie@gmail.com
As I mentioned yesterday, I went to the hospital's Emergency Room (ER) department.
My daughter P drove me. She stayed with me for a while, then headed home to check on her family and make her children some supper.
Upon returning P picked up a pizza for us to enjoy together, in the ER waiting area. After all, they don't serve meals to those waiting, and there is nowhere in the hospital to purchase any food, other than snacks in machines. So, I was thankful to have some tasty grub, while waiting to see the ER doctor.
It was getting late, and knowing that P was exhausted after a busy day, taking her son to a London, ON hospital earlier in the day, she left to go rest. I stayed in the ER waiting area.
After waiting between five and six (5 and 6) hours, I was finally called in.
A Physician Assistant (PA) asked me why I was there. I explained what my surgeon/doctor had told me. To my surprise, her reply was shocking.
I was told that since I was already under doctor's care, I shouldn't have been there, in ER. She went on further to say that she didn't think they should treat me, nor even examine me.
Sigh... Yes, I took a deep breath.
Then, I reiterated how my physician had told me that I needed STRONG antibiotics administered Intravenously (by IV). And, I needed it done... NOW!
After much more discussion, she finally agreed to look at my gut wound, where I was leaking fluid through my skin. Her attitude changed when she saw it was infected.
I waited for a while to see the ER doctor.
When he arrived, he listened to what I had told the PA and let me know that he didn't know if he should admit me to hospital, even though my surgeon/doctor had told me that one of the ER doctors had suggested I be admitted through the ER department.
Why? To wait for a bed and be admitted by my doctor would have taken weeks; maybe months. The hospital is running at more than full capacity. Yes, people are in hallways.
The ER doctor decided to call in a surgeon.
Much later, another surgeon arrived. We discussed my situation and what instructions my surgeon/doctor had given me.
He agreed that I needed treatment, and I needed it, right then. I was admitted, even though I had to remain in the ER department for a while.
Yes, I had to wait, but at least I knew I would begin treatment I needed. Thank you, Lord!
I was reminded of Isaiah 40:31, "But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint."
I praise God for helping me. I know I could not have done anything, without Him.
Until next time...
If you would like to comment, please e-mail: lifewithlynnie@gmail.com
Wednesday, May 8, 2013
Healing? Plans? Hospital!
Before I begin writing in more detail about my healthcare needs, here on Life with Lynnie (LwL), I must first talk about my grandson, T.
You may be aware that about a week ago, he was hurt in a motor vehicle collision, when the vehicle he was a passenger in, hit a deer on the roadway.
In addition to bruising and pain in various parts of his body, he has suffered greatly in his head. His nose was broken. His cheekbone was broken. The bone that surrounds the eye, was broken.
His eye is still swollen so badly that he cannot open it, without using fingers to separate the skin of his eyelids. Of course, he's black and blue still, around the eye.
Apparently, his pupil is fully dilated and will not contract. But, testing revealed that his vision is being restored... slowly. Again, I praise God for this! Hallelujah!
After seeing specialists this week, he found out that he will not need surgery. Praise God for this! Thank you, Lord!
Unfortunately, my daughter B (T's mom) broke her foot, the other day. Today, she'll be getting a cast at the hospital.
Life won't be easy for her, especially since it is her right foot that is broken. I'm praying that she will be able to use a boot-style air-cast, rather than a traditional cast.
With a traditional cast, B won't be able to drive. Something as simple as having shower or bath, will become a difficult. With an air-cast, she'll be able to drive, sooner. And, she'll be able to have more freedom during the heat that will be advancing, soon.
I am requesting that you pray for both my daughter and my grandson. After all, they are both in need of healing. Thank you, for prayer. May God bless you.
As for me, well I am still in need of healing.
In yesterday's LwL entry, I wrote about how I didn't feel I was being treated well by our healthcare system. Why? Because, the truth is, I haven't been.
After only a few days of having daily care for my wound, having it cleaned and redressed, I was switched to every second (2nd) day. Then, every third (3rd) day.
When I began receiving care every second (2nd) day, one of my nurses began telling me that she could smell an odour, from the fluid and blood I was leaking. Then, a couple of days later, another nurse told me the same thing. This one even showed me some of the stuff she was cleaning away. Yuch!
When I waited three (3) days, I was told it was getting worse. Each nurse told me that when there is an odour like that, it is a sign of infection.
I asked each nurse if they thought that I may be experiencing infection, because the wound wasn't being cleaned and redressed daily, even if the sponges used for dressing were increased to double and triple in an effort to absorb the leakage. Each responded... yes, possibly so. Each told me they wished they had control over my nursing care, but they don't.
It seemed to me that the situation wouldn't change, since no one had control, except those in charge of my care. At least, not until yesterday.
My surgeon's office called me, letting me know I needed to see him, immediately. I got there as quickly as I could.
The results of my CT scan were in. The surgeon explained to me that it showed a pocket of fluid surrounding the mesh he had used during my surgery last September. Why this didn't show up on the first CT scan I had, no one seems to know. But, it showed up, this time.
Consequently, I'll be going into hospital, today.
Intravenously, I'll receive strong antibiotics, to fight the infection. Hopefully, this treatment will cure the problem of the fluid, that they think may be inflammation.
I'll be in hospital for several days. Before I come home, I'll be fitted with some sort of a unit in my arm, so that once I'm home, I'll be able to receive daily home care by nursing staff, to continue the intravenous antibiotic treatment.
If this doesn't work, the alternative won't be good. My surgeon told me he'd have to remove the mesh.
Sigh... I'm praying that God will provide healing for me, through this antibiotic treatment plan.
Talking about plans, God has a plan for my life, and for yours. He told us so, in Jeremiah 29:11, "For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the Lord, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end."
He alone, knows whether or not this medical treatment plan for me will work.
I'm trusting Him for total, restorative healing. Healing for my daughter, for my grandson and for me.
Hopefully, I'll be able to access the internet from some areas of the hospital. If not, I won't be able to post for a while, here on LwL. I just thought you should know.
Thank you for reading LwL, and for being supportive of me, friends.
I thank you for continued prayer. May God bless you.
Until next time...
If you would like to comment, please e-mail: lifewithlynnie.com
You may be aware that about a week ago, he was hurt in a motor vehicle collision, when the vehicle he was a passenger in, hit a deer on the roadway.
In addition to bruising and pain in various parts of his body, he has suffered greatly in his head. His nose was broken. His cheekbone was broken. The bone that surrounds the eye, was broken.
His eye is still swollen so badly that he cannot open it, without using fingers to separate the skin of his eyelids. Of course, he's black and blue still, around the eye.
Apparently, his pupil is fully dilated and will not contract. But, testing revealed that his vision is being restored... slowly. Again, I praise God for this! Hallelujah!
After seeing specialists this week, he found out that he will not need surgery. Praise God for this! Thank you, Lord!
Unfortunately, my daughter B (T's mom) broke her foot, the other day. Today, she'll be getting a cast at the hospital.
Life won't be easy for her, especially since it is her right foot that is broken. I'm praying that she will be able to use a boot-style air-cast, rather than a traditional cast.
With a traditional cast, B won't be able to drive. Something as simple as having shower or bath, will become a difficult. With an air-cast, she'll be able to drive, sooner. And, she'll be able to have more freedom during the heat that will be advancing, soon.
I am requesting that you pray for both my daughter and my grandson. After all, they are both in need of healing. Thank you, for prayer. May God bless you.
As for me, well I am still in need of healing.
In yesterday's LwL entry, I wrote about how I didn't feel I was being treated well by our healthcare system. Why? Because, the truth is, I haven't been.
After only a few days of having daily care for my wound, having it cleaned and redressed, I was switched to every second (2nd) day. Then, every third (3rd) day.
When I began receiving care every second (2nd) day, one of my nurses began telling me that she could smell an odour, from the fluid and blood I was leaking. Then, a couple of days later, another nurse told me the same thing. This one even showed me some of the stuff she was cleaning away. Yuch!
When I waited three (3) days, I was told it was getting worse. Each nurse told me that when there is an odour like that, it is a sign of infection.
I asked each nurse if they thought that I may be experiencing infection, because the wound wasn't being cleaned and redressed daily, even if the sponges used for dressing were increased to double and triple in an effort to absorb the leakage. Each responded... yes, possibly so. Each told me they wished they had control over my nursing care, but they don't.
It seemed to me that the situation wouldn't change, since no one had control, except those in charge of my care. At least, not until yesterday.
My surgeon's office called me, letting me know I needed to see him, immediately. I got there as quickly as I could.
The results of my CT scan were in. The surgeon explained to me that it showed a pocket of fluid surrounding the mesh he had used during my surgery last September. Why this didn't show up on the first CT scan I had, no one seems to know. But, it showed up, this time.
Consequently, I'll be going into hospital, today.
Intravenously, I'll receive strong antibiotics, to fight the infection. Hopefully, this treatment will cure the problem of the fluid, that they think may be inflammation.
I'll be in hospital for several days. Before I come home, I'll be fitted with some sort of a unit in my arm, so that once I'm home, I'll be able to receive daily home care by nursing staff, to continue the intravenous antibiotic treatment.
If this doesn't work, the alternative won't be good. My surgeon told me he'd have to remove the mesh.
Sigh... I'm praying that God will provide healing for me, through this antibiotic treatment plan.
Talking about plans, God has a plan for my life, and for yours. He told us so, in Jeremiah 29:11, "For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the Lord, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end."
He alone, knows whether or not this medical treatment plan for me will work.
I'm trusting Him for total, restorative healing. Healing for my daughter, for my grandson and for me.
Hopefully, I'll be able to access the internet from some areas of the hospital. If not, I won't be able to post for a while, here on LwL. I just thought you should know.
Thank you for reading LwL, and for being supportive of me, friends.
I thank you for continued prayer. May God bless you.
Until next time...
If you would like to comment, please e-mail: lifewithlynnie.com
Tuesday, May 7, 2013
Cost of Care vs Need...
It's been a while since I wrote about my health, here on Life with Lynnie (LwL). So, I decided to do that, today.
In case you're not aware, I've had trouble healing after having two (2) surgeries in the last eight (8) months. In fact, after my incision finally healed a few weeks ago, I began leaking fluid and blood. Not through a hole or my incision. This time, through my skin. :(
Instead of having the same nurse I had in the past, the company she works for has been sending out various nurses. At first, I was told it was due to the fact that she was on vacation.
But recently, I found out that she is in fact back from her holiday. However, the co-ordinator managing my services for the nursing company, refused to allow me to utilize my previous nurse' services, this time.
This may not sound important to you, but it is to me. After all, if I don't have a regular nurse attending to my wound, cleaning it and redressing it, then it is difficult for anyone to know if it is improving or getting worse.
Going back to Sunday, April 21st, the nurse I had that day, is one that I didn't recall meeting, previous to that day. (Just so you know, since then the nursing company has sent this same nurse to do my bandage care, a couple more times; last week.)
After cleaning and dressing my wound, she let me know that if I needed medical care the following day, I should call the office. She told me this, because she thought I would indeed need the care.
And, I did. I was leaking so much fluid and blood that the dressing was completely drenched.
I thanked God for the Tegaderm (plastic-like product that covers the dressing, so I can shower). If I hadn't had it, I would have been leaking everywhere I went.
When I called the nursing company as the nurse had suggested, the co-ordinator refused to send a nurse out. Instead, she got upset with me during our telephone conversation, and hung up on me.
I called the woman in charge of my case, at the government agency that is responsible for every patient's care. Unfortunately, I couldn't reach my case worker, there.
That meant that I had no one attend me, to change the thoroughly soaked bandage and clean the wound.
On Tuesday, the following day, a nurse attended me. She doubled up on my dressing, since I was leaking more.
Once I finally reached our government agency I was told that even some nurses and I felt I needed daily care still, it wasn't being granted to me.
Our government agency worker handling my case, let me know that they felt I had received too much care, already. And, she complained about the cost of sending nurses to me. Even if I needed the care.
To be honest, I found that very upsetting. After all, I did not set up our socialized medical system, here in the province of Ontario, Canada.
And, the bottom line is this: this government agency doesn't pay for my care. The government does.
Who is the government? Us! We, the taxpayers.
Yes, I was upset. I will even say that I felt angry. After all, I do not have control over my physical condition, and healing. Or, lack thereof.
I was reminded of Ephesians 4:26, "Be ye angry, and sin not: let not the sun go down upon your wrath:"
When I got off the phone, I prayed. And, forgave those who were not caring about my need.
Did this mean that I was no longer in need of nursing care?
Absolutely not. I still needed it. Even if I wasn't receiving the care, as often as I needed it.
For me, the unfortunate part of this situation of not being in control of my own healthcare will remain this way, until God decides to provide me with full, restorative healing. For this, I am trusting my Great Physician, for whom all things are possible.
Until next time...
If you would like to comment, please e-mail: lifewithlynnie@gmail.com
In case you're not aware, I've had trouble healing after having two (2) surgeries in the last eight (8) months. In fact, after my incision finally healed a few weeks ago, I began leaking fluid and blood. Not through a hole or my incision. This time, through my skin. :(
Instead of having the same nurse I had in the past, the company she works for has been sending out various nurses. At first, I was told it was due to the fact that she was on vacation.
But recently, I found out that she is in fact back from her holiday. However, the co-ordinator managing my services for the nursing company, refused to allow me to utilize my previous nurse' services, this time.
This may not sound important to you, but it is to me. After all, if I don't have a regular nurse attending to my wound, cleaning it and redressing it, then it is difficult for anyone to know if it is improving or getting worse.
Going back to Sunday, April 21st, the nurse I had that day, is one that I didn't recall meeting, previous to that day. (Just so you know, since then the nursing company has sent this same nurse to do my bandage care, a couple more times; last week.)
After cleaning and dressing my wound, she let me know that if I needed medical care the following day, I should call the office. She told me this, because she thought I would indeed need the care.
And, I did. I was leaking so much fluid and blood that the dressing was completely drenched.
I thanked God for the Tegaderm (plastic-like product that covers the dressing, so I can shower). If I hadn't had it, I would have been leaking everywhere I went.
When I called the nursing company as the nurse had suggested, the co-ordinator refused to send a nurse out. Instead, she got upset with me during our telephone conversation, and hung up on me.
I called the woman in charge of my case, at the government agency that is responsible for every patient's care. Unfortunately, I couldn't reach my case worker, there.
That meant that I had no one attend me, to change the thoroughly soaked bandage and clean the wound.
On Tuesday, the following day, a nurse attended me. She doubled up on my dressing, since I was leaking more.
Once I finally reached our government agency I was told that even some nurses and I felt I needed daily care still, it wasn't being granted to me.
Our government agency worker handling my case, let me know that they felt I had received too much care, already. And, she complained about the cost of sending nurses to me. Even if I needed the care.
To be honest, I found that very upsetting. After all, I did not set up our socialized medical system, here in the province of Ontario, Canada.
And, the bottom line is this: this government agency doesn't pay for my care. The government does.
Who is the government? Us! We, the taxpayers.
Yes, I was upset. I will even say that I felt angry. After all, I do not have control over my physical condition, and healing. Or, lack thereof.
I was reminded of Ephesians 4:26, "Be ye angry, and sin not: let not the sun go down upon your wrath:"
When I got off the phone, I prayed. And, forgave those who were not caring about my need.
Did this mean that I was no longer in need of nursing care?
Absolutely not. I still needed it. Even if I wasn't receiving the care, as often as I needed it.
For me, the unfortunate part of this situation of not being in control of my own healthcare will remain this way, until God decides to provide me with full, restorative healing. For this, I am trusting my Great Physician, for whom all things are possible.
Until next time...
If you would like to comment, please e-mail: lifewithlynnie@gmail.com
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