I’m not thinking about dying, I’m thinking about living
It’s not dying I’m talking about, it’s living. —– Gus McCrae from Lonesome Dove
For those of you that have followed the blog, you know that the Mr. has had his struggles lately, and let me add he doesn’t do well as a patient. He has been unable to walk without the aid of a walker for over a week. and has been forced to take a lot of pain medication just to get around with the walker. He is not sleeping well and in general is sick and tired of being sick and tired.
One week ago on Friday (that’s 10 days ago), we went for a MRI. On the next Monday, I called the radiology department and asked them if the results had been sent to the doctor. They told me the results had been sent to the clinc across the street from them. Now, here is where it gets tricky. The doctor practices in two places – a clinic across from the hospital and one about 20 miles away. We use the farther one, which I will call clinic B, because it is closer for us. The doctor is only at clinic B on Thursday and Friday and on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday he is at clinic A. I called clinic A and asked if they had the MRI results. They did, however his doctor was out until Friday when he would not be there but would be at clinic B. They assured me that another doctor had faxed the results to clinic B so that the Mr.’s doctor would have it availble on Friday. They assured me that the doctor would call as soon as he read over the results.
We waited from Monday until Friday. At 2:00 pm, I called and got the message with options. Choosing the options for the doctor’s nurse gave me an answering machine. I left the message. At 3:45 the nurse returned the phone call and said of course the MRI was there and the doctor wanted to see him and not discuss it on the phone. She suggested I make an appointment.
I called the front desk and chose the make an appointment option. The receptionist told me it was impossible to get in that afternoon. After all, it was 3:45 +. She offered me an appointment for the next Thursday. I made the appointment, but asked her if I could call clinic A and make an appointment for him there. Since the doctor would be there on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday chances are we would get in earlier. I asked if the MRI would be available for the doctor back at clinic A since it had been faxed to clinic B. She assured me that all they had to do was to pull it up on the computer. I didn’t know if they were even aware that it was a possibility to do that. It is about 1950 here. I called clinic A and they had a Monday appointment! I gave them the entire story. Needed MRI read, already had doctor just hadn’t ever seen him at clinic A.
“Oh my, ” said the receptionist at clinic A. “We can’t possibly see you all next week because he will be a new patient.” I tried to explain he really wasn’t a new patient. It was his doctor after all. He had been seeing him for years, just not at clinc A. She decided that she could make it work if we would agree to be there 45 minutes early to fill out the paperwork.
He suffered through the weekend. Our middle son came and mowed and saved our lives. He’s the one that the teachers never cared for. See earlier blog about middle child if you get interested in him. He came even after having a birthday party for his son and with his wife leaving for a business trip for the next week. He would have the three kids all week and that included another birthday party he had to take the kids to. He’s a great guy. He’s just like his dad.
Monday morning we made it 45 minutes early for me to fill out the paperwork that took me 10 minutes, but they were fairly punctual for a doctor’s office. I like his doctor. He is very reasonable, but he is not used to dealing with the John Wayne, Gary Cooper, Roy Rogers combination that is my Mr. The doctor told him that the arthritis was so severe in his back and hip that it was restricting his spinal cord. He said that if he were 10 years younger, surgery would be an option, but the mortality rate on the operating table was high for people his age.
My question: How many people at 87 have blood pressure of 110/60 with oxygen levels of 97. He has the heart, lungs, kidneys, etc of a much younger person. The only thing old on the man is his joints. What if he lives a few more years? Does he want him to be an invalid for those years. I know the Mr. He would rather die on the operating table trying to get better than to be an invalid.
He decided to go with the steriod shots in the back first and surgery if that doesn’t work.
We are waiting for the appointment for the shots.
We’re not thinking about dying; we’re thinking aobut living.