My Limping, Halting Journey
Feb. 24th, 2016 10:07 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thisnewdayYesterday, I had what was supposed to be a follow-up exam with my internist, whom I saw for the first time about a month ago. Just by chance, the follow-up had been scheduled to take place a few days after the orthopedics appointment at which I was told that I'd need a pre-op exam and written OK from the internist before the surgery on my knee. Originally, the internist was just going to check on the efficacy of a new inhaler that I'd been given for my COPD, but the office said that they could handle the pre-op thing as well.
And that went OK aside from the fact that, when I got the appointment reminder, the office said that I had to do a four-hour fast before the exam. Which raised a flag with Her Nurseliness because it seemed to indicate that they intended to repeat the bloodwork which they'd done a month earier.
It turns out they either changed their plans or that wasn't their intention to begin with. So I had fasted for an actual FIVE hours AND, because of the timing of it, skipped the ONE cup of coffee that I've been allowing myself per day. (Black coffee, I think, would've been OK but that's not the way we roll. To qualify as my one-cup-a-day, my 10 ozs. of Newman's Own must also contain at least 1 oz. of whole milk or cream and 2 teaspoons of sugar. Both of which are definite no-nos before a fasting blood sugar test.)
Still, after returning home, I resisted the urge to remedy this cruel and, as it turned out, unnecessary departure from my daily routine because by then it was later in the day than I normally ingest caffeine. So I wisely held out until about 9 PM which, for this old boy, is about an hour before bedtime.
Then, I totally caved and swilled down my usual 10-plus ozs. of Newman's Devine Nectar. And it didn't seem to bother me a bit because I still got right to sleep and then woke up twice during the night to use the bathroom and was every bit as exhausted as I usually am in the morning.
(I like to think that I was protected by the Newmans' genuinely kind and philanthropic spirit which, I truly believe, infuses every aromatic cup. Thanks, Paul. For that, and your kick-ass work in Empire Falls which proves that, even if old white guys can't jump, they can sure as hell act.)
Anyway, that part of my limping, halting journey toward a repaired knee is done and this morning I received a call from the anesthesiology nurse who got writer's cramp listing my daily meds. Plus a few other questions like, do I have a medical proxy.
Personally, I hate that one. I find it only slightly less distasteful, not to mention ill-timed, than the one asking if I'd consider donating my organs if, by some unlucky chance, I'd happen to flat-line on the operating table.
C'mon, people, positive thoughts. Think about your bosses' monthly standing in the patient survival survey...
LPK
LiveJournal
2.24.2016
And that went OK aside from the fact that, when I got the appointment reminder, the office said that I had to do a four-hour fast before the exam. Which raised a flag with Her Nurseliness because it seemed to indicate that they intended to repeat the bloodwork which they'd done a month earier.
It turns out they either changed their plans or that wasn't their intention to begin with. So I had fasted for an actual FIVE hours AND, because of the timing of it, skipped the ONE cup of coffee that I've been allowing myself per day. (Black coffee, I think, would've been OK but that's not the way we roll. To qualify as my one-cup-a-day, my 10 ozs. of Newman's Own must also contain at least 1 oz. of whole milk or cream and 2 teaspoons of sugar. Both of which are definite no-nos before a fasting blood sugar test.)
Still, after returning home, I resisted the urge to remedy this cruel and, as it turned out, unnecessary departure from my daily routine because by then it was later in the day than I normally ingest caffeine. So I wisely held out until about 9 PM which, for this old boy, is about an hour before bedtime.
Then, I totally caved and swilled down my usual 10-plus ozs. of Newman's Devine Nectar. And it didn't seem to bother me a bit because I still got right to sleep and then woke up twice during the night to use the bathroom and was every bit as exhausted as I usually am in the morning.
(I like to think that I was protected by the Newmans' genuinely kind and philanthropic spirit which, I truly believe, infuses every aromatic cup. Thanks, Paul. For that, and your kick-ass work in Empire Falls which proves that, even if old white guys can't jump, they can sure as hell act.)
Anyway, that part of my limping, halting journey toward a repaired knee is done and this morning I received a call from the anesthesiology nurse who got writer's cramp listing my daily meds. Plus a few other questions like, do I have a medical proxy.
Personally, I hate that one. I find it only slightly less distasteful, not to mention ill-timed, than the one asking if I'd consider donating my organs if, by some unlucky chance, I'd happen to flat-line on the operating table.
C'mon, people, positive thoughts. Think about your bosses' monthly standing in the patient survival survey...
LPK
LiveJournal
2.24.2016
