This week has turned out to be rather a busy one.
I been spending quite a bit of time sorting through VHS video’s, setting aside home videos, and packing purchased tapes in boxes. Yesterday was spent first calling the local Women’s Shelter, who didn’t need or want our old Sony CRT television and the VHS tapes, then calling further afield until I found a Homeless Shelter in the a nearby city where their current CRT television was fading, soon to be discarded. They would gladly take the Sony unit, and perhaps the videos. I arranged with the staff to drop the items off after 5 p.m., which gave Attila and I plenty of time to prepare the items, and make the 45 minute trip the city.
It was a lovely drive, sunny, bright, with a few remaining blazes of autumn colour along the road. It turned out that the Homeless Shelter wanted the television, but not the VHS tapes. I had a list of other shelters in the city that might want them, but first we followed the suggestion of the staff member of the Homeless Shelter, to take them to the Salvation Army Thrift Store. It wasn’t far out of our way, so off we went, and sure enough the woman at the Thrift Store was very happy to receive the VHS tapes, there were over 100 of them, all in good condition. The prices in that store are very low, they could be easily purchased by someone with a very low income, we were happy to leave them there.
On Monday the telephone rang, which it rarely does, so much so that I have to pause to figure out what electronic device is making the noise. It was The Heart Clinic, they had an opening for the Persantine MPI Nuclear Stress Test, the first of the three heart tests I am to take. The other two will be scheduled when I attend the first test, for the New Year I was told. The test will take all day Friday, so there is a bit of time to prepare, no caffeine, no Tylenol, and no breakfast on the day of the test. Not too complicated.
And today I will attend my appointment at The Heart Clinic. I didn’t sleep well last night, and neither did Attila. We both awoke in cold sweats. We are both frightened. I will be injected today, and if someone makes a mistake I will die today. I know this every time I enter a building where I will receive medication by mouth or injection. I don’t know what the people I will be dealing with will be like. They may be wonderful. They may not be wonderful. Someone may be having a bad day, may regard my issue as a form of attention seeking, or have some other personal reason for not catching, or deliberately ignoring, my allergen in a medication or injection. Sadly I have run into slipshod medicine before, faced possible death in what are benign circumstances for almost everyone else. So the fear is real, for both Attila and I. We had a rough night. We said a very affectionate goodbye this morning as Attila left for work.
I will be in fight or flight mode today, ready to become insistent, and if that doesn’t work, obstinate. I have yet to attend a specialized facility that is prepared to deal with my issue, it seems it is very rare. If I am very lucky, they will respectfully listen to me as a partner in health care, and the issue will be dealt with smoothly and pleasantly, that happens occasionally, as it did with the orthopaedic surgeon. More likely and more often though, the health care professional will try to dismiss the issue, usually saying something like “have you had this shot before, then it should be OK” (e.g. flu shot), as if that had any relevance at all to the current ingredients used in a medication. When I get that kind of response I know they aren’t listening to what I am telling them, and then I feel frightened. Ingredients have to be checked every single time, for as I discovered with food, ingredients can suddenly change, without warning. All this careful checking is tedious, it disrupts the work flow, it is annoying, as I well know, but it has to be done.
Today I have to be brave, remain calm, face possible and likely unpleasantness, and the small but real possibility of a sudden death ending to my story.
Am I being dramatic. Of course, this is a dramatic situation, and it calls for an honest approach.
I remember reading the blog of one young woman who had anaphylaxis. She was preachy and had all kinds of advice, along the line of just smile, educate people, don’t make your problem their problem. Her parents had always run the canon fodder line for her condition, and now she was cheerfully and confidently giving out advice as she entered the fray. Her blog lasted about eight months before being abandoned. I check every once in a while to see how she is doing, and she has not returned, it has been two years. I hope it is because she discovered the easy way that it just isn’t that simple, that it is soul wearying to live each day this way. I hope it is not because she learned the hard way that it is better to be unpleasantly obstinate, to make your problem their problem if they are feeding, or injecting you, than to give in to insistent bad advice from a medical professional.
I am not afraid of possible pain today, that comes and goes. I am not afraid of results, because usually those can be handled even if they are not good.
I will be glad to write a final note here tonight, telling you, and the future me, that I made it through the day unscathed. I expect to. I expect to do everything in my power to ensure my own safety, and I expect to succeed.
Attila and I, and before that my kids and I, go through this every single time I need medical treatment from strangers, this is not a one-off situation. I don’t tell my kids about my appointments anymore, I spare them that, Attila has my back now.
I am home safe and sound. They were wonderful people, they worked with me, we did the treadmill instead of the injections that mimic a treadmill. Thanks to everyone for such wonderful good wishes!!!!
Date: 7:00 AM EST Friday 11 November 2016
Condition: Mostly Cloudy
Pressure: 100.8 kPa
Dew point: -1.5°C
Wind: NNW 32 gust 43 km/h
Visibility: 24 km
“Courage is being scared to death – but saddling up anyway.”
1907 – 1979