FAQ #1
Does Rich really have cancer or is this an exercise in creative writing?
A. Someone's not really following the Blog. The Diagnosis Code is 159.9 And there is Nothing creative about this writing.
FAQ #2
Do you really like your job?
A. I love, love, LOVE my job. Here's how that works. No matter what you do, take pride in your work and enjoy your co-workers.
FAQ #3
Do you really think Rich is going to beat this?
A. Odds are better than the successful reform of health care in this country. All I have to do is keep him alive and happy until 12-21-2012 at which time the world will end... ipso facto he will have beaten Cancer.
FAQ #4
Do you follow the comments on your blog?
A. No, I have people who do that for me. I barely find time to write the posts to begin with. Maybe you missed the point that I don't have the time, insurance coverage or disposable income for therapy so I blog the experience of living with a mate with a shitty diagnosis because most of the support available is for the patient rather than the patient's mate. Unless you want to join a group and I don't have the time or energy to join shit to shinola.
FAQ #5
Why is the majority of your blog about you when Rich is the one with cancer?
A. If I type s-l-o-w-e-r will it become clearer?
FAQ #6
How's the garden doing?
A. Thanks for asking.
FAQ #7
Why is there such an “edge” to you blogs like there's ...more....?
A. I'm so impressed with your insight that I will answer—there IS more. So ugly and overwhelming that it's grinding at me every waking moment. Unfortunately I can't blog (vent) about it because it would betray the privacy of someone very dear to me.
FAQ #8
Is everything just a target for humor with you?
A. Yep. Pretty much. Yeah. With one exception. Do NOT hurt someone I love. Poke THAT cage and I WILL jump ugly.
FAQ# 9
Do you ever worry that your blog is offensive to people with multiple personalities?
A. Hell no. If I'm offending people with multiple personalities, I call that multitasking at the highest level of efficiency.
Tune in again for more FAQ as I gather and answer them. Keep those questions coming, folks, because they are yummy.
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
In the Food Room of HELL
Welcome, and allow me to set a place for you.
My boss is 30-some weeks pregnant. For the past 30 weeks I have watched her consume food on a level that would terrify third world nations. I knew she was pregnant three weeks before ANY pregnancy test would be accurate. For days I would come home from work and relate to Rich that “she must be pregnant.” Rich would point out that her baby was only three months old. I would respond, “either she's pregnant or she's a goddamned alien.”
Yep. She was pregnant. Michael is due to appear on the planet one week before his older sister's FIRST birthday.
I watch her savor food as one would enjoy watching Rembrandt paint. The higher the sugar content, the more artistic the form.
Meanwhile, I am trying to lose the thirty pounds I gained in the long weeks and months since Rich's diagnosis.
I wake to my alarm every weekday at 04:30, hit the snooze button WAY too many times and finally drag my sorry butt out of bed shortly after 05:00 believing I will fulfill my goals of working out before hitting the shower and prepping for work. Somewhere between the top of the stairs and the coffee maker I am sucked into the void of desperate to feel human versus not to feel at all. I sip my coffee and struggle with the treadmill and Pilates Power Gym in my peripheral vision while trying to battle the guilt to get with the program versus the hopelessness of “what's the point?!”
Gradually I am leaning towards the higher angels of my being. Every morning this week after MANY weeks and months of starts and stops, days of successful effort followed by days of “what's the point?” I have managed to move forward and do a full workout without thinking about the futility and lack of immediate results. Just now, just this moment, just do, just feel, just breathe....
And the irony is that I feel SO GOOD after I work out. So why is it so damn hard to create a routine that nourishes this effort and it's results?!
Because there are so many other things that I should be doing.
But I digress.
By day, I live with the amazing pregnant woman who metabolizes food in a manner that makes me quiver in anticipation of meeting the child she is incubating. Why? Because it is damn hard to watch that level of consumption and she has gained 18 pounds. THAT is goddamned insane.
By night, I live with a man who has begun grazing with a ferocity that wakes the dead—waking me IS waking the dead. He takes Lunesta for fuck sake and every four hours he wakes up. NOT to pee, not for pain meds, not from nightmares or any physical discomfort other than HUNGER. I wake up because I have become conditioned to being on alert for him even in my sleep. He tells me he's going to the bathroom but I can only doze fitfully until he returns. An hour later, after he has consumed as much food as possible without firing up the stove top, the oven or a bonfire in the back yard I ask again if he's okay and he explains something I cannot even remember in the fog of my exhaustion.
I wake up after nine hits of the snooze button, struggle through a cup of coffee and come awake to the awareness of empty granola bar wrappers, empty yogurt containers, dirty dishes in the sink that were not there when I went to bed.
Last week I learned that the “happy pills” I take cause weight gain. So I've stopped them and now I'm overweight AND depressed.
I eat little bits of the healthiest stuff I can manage without wanting to kill myself. I park as far from the office door as possible; during my worst struggles I work out three times a week. I drink more water than a working adult should consume without risking embarrassment. I struggle, work, meditate and struggle.
All day long I watch Lynn eat; all evening I watch Rich eat. I am awakened from sleep to be aware that Rich is eating some more.
I keep telling myself that Nothing tastes as good as thin feels, but the bottom line is …..I am in the Food Room of Hell.
My boss is 30-some weeks pregnant. For the past 30 weeks I have watched her consume food on a level that would terrify third world nations. I knew she was pregnant three weeks before ANY pregnancy test would be accurate. For days I would come home from work and relate to Rich that “she must be pregnant.” Rich would point out that her baby was only three months old. I would respond, “either she's pregnant or she's a goddamned alien.”
Yep. She was pregnant. Michael is due to appear on the planet one week before his older sister's FIRST birthday.
I watch her savor food as one would enjoy watching Rembrandt paint. The higher the sugar content, the more artistic the form.
Meanwhile, I am trying to lose the thirty pounds I gained in the long weeks and months since Rich's diagnosis.
I wake to my alarm every weekday at 04:30, hit the snooze button WAY too many times and finally drag my sorry butt out of bed shortly after 05:00 believing I will fulfill my goals of working out before hitting the shower and prepping for work. Somewhere between the top of the stairs and the coffee maker I am sucked into the void of desperate to feel human versus not to feel at all. I sip my coffee and struggle with the treadmill and Pilates Power Gym in my peripheral vision while trying to battle the guilt to get with the program versus the hopelessness of “what's the point?!”
Gradually I am leaning towards the higher angels of my being. Every morning this week after MANY weeks and months of starts and stops, days of successful effort followed by days of “what's the point?” I have managed to move forward and do a full workout without thinking about the futility and lack of immediate results. Just now, just this moment, just do, just feel, just breathe....
And the irony is that I feel SO GOOD after I work out. So why is it so damn hard to create a routine that nourishes this effort and it's results?!
Because there are so many other things that I should be doing.
But I digress.
By day, I live with the amazing pregnant woman who metabolizes food in a manner that makes me quiver in anticipation of meeting the child she is incubating. Why? Because it is damn hard to watch that level of consumption and she has gained 18 pounds. THAT is goddamned insane.
By night, I live with a man who has begun grazing with a ferocity that wakes the dead—waking me IS waking the dead. He takes Lunesta for fuck sake and every four hours he wakes up. NOT to pee, not for pain meds, not from nightmares or any physical discomfort other than HUNGER. I wake up because I have become conditioned to being on alert for him even in my sleep. He tells me he's going to the bathroom but I can only doze fitfully until he returns. An hour later, after he has consumed as much food as possible without firing up the stove top, the oven or a bonfire in the back yard I ask again if he's okay and he explains something I cannot even remember in the fog of my exhaustion.
I wake up after nine hits of the snooze button, struggle through a cup of coffee and come awake to the awareness of empty granola bar wrappers, empty yogurt containers, dirty dishes in the sink that were not there when I went to bed.
Last week I learned that the “happy pills” I take cause weight gain. So I've stopped them and now I'm overweight AND depressed.
I eat little bits of the healthiest stuff I can manage without wanting to kill myself. I park as far from the office door as possible; during my worst struggles I work out three times a week. I drink more water than a working adult should consume without risking embarrassment. I struggle, work, meditate and struggle.
All day long I watch Lynn eat; all evening I watch Rich eat. I am awakened from sleep to be aware that Rich is eating some more.
I keep telling myself that Nothing tastes as good as thin feels, but the bottom line is …..I am in the Food Room of Hell.
It's Ramadan and Mercury is retrograde
That is not code. It is a statement of fact.
I have experienced Ramadan from the fringes before, but that was when 10% of the doctors were fasting. In my one doctor office, 100% of our doctor is fasting. And Ramadan fasting is not like other fasting. We're not talking about no meat on Fridays or giving up chocolate for Lent. From sun up to sun down there is NO food or fluids, including water. This time of year that's a long damn day. I'm not sure what the spiritual benefits are, but I assure you that the physical effects include hypoglycemia and dehydration. Both of which can cause hellatious headaches, nausea, fatigue and exhaustion.
What impresses me is not that Dr Zee fasts—it is the WAY he fasts. He fasts joyfully. He fasts the way the New Testament Gospel writer Matthew instructed us to pray. (Matthew Chapter 7) Fasting has not affected the way he treats his staff, patients or drug reps. He joins us for lunch (catered daily by drug reps) and smiles, jokes and converses as always. He never complains about this ordeal. The only time he speaks of it is to answer the questions that are posed to him about the process, and everyday he fields the same questions because every day it's a different drug rep. I've worked with him for eight months now and have come to know him as someone who represents Islam the way Jesus represents Christianity. I am NOT overstating the example. I would consider converting were it not for the dress code—I get overheated using the microwave.
On two levels this is impacting me. On the one hand I'm getting more calls from pharmacies asking for clarification on prescriptions, and he's answering my “either/ or” questions with “okay”. On the other hand, I seem to be particularly sensitive to watching someone suffer/struggle with a constant smile, sweet nature and never a complaint. Between Dr Zee and Rich, it's every waking moment. Talk about feeling unworthy!
During these days of Ramadan, Mercury is retrograde. For those of you who don't know what Mercury Retrograde means....basically all forms of communication are muddled, stymied, or downright FUBAR'd. Especially for Gemini people, and yes, folks I'm a Gemini. Scoff if you will. I myself never gave credit to the phenomenon. Until....
Friends who avidly followed the cycles of Mercury began to point things out to me and since I don't believe in coincidence, it became increasingly difficult to dismiss. Still I remained skeptical. Until this past spring when Mercury went retrograde from April 3rd to the 17th. Computers crashed, new software failed to perform, AND the phone company disconnected the offices phones. Then could not locate the disconnect order, therefore could not re-establish service because there had not been a disconnect order. In short, our doctor's office was without any phone, fax, email, credit card service for 4 days.
This month Mercury is again retrograde from Aug 2nd to the 26th. A brand new computer that was installed two weeks ago suffered a hard drive crash on Tuesday. Three times now our electronic Rx service has shut down for no apparent reason. 20% of the Rx Dr Zee writes are being denied by insurance. Wait.... that's probably not Mercury....I don't know what planet controls corporate greed.
If you're still skeptical I offer this. Watch live TV—home shopping, news programs, etc. Anything not taped and edited. Seriously, Rich is now totally on board as a result. And it's just good, clean fun.
Find yourself in a constant loop of telephone tag? Every supply order I've placed at work has been screwed up. I'm faxing everything in triplicate because nothing is going through the first two times. I have patients leaving messages as follows:
“Dr Zee ordered this new med for me and I'm just calling to see if he wants me to take it.”
“I need refills on the pills that my other doctor ordered that are blue and taste bad.”
“My husband is having chest pain and he feels sick and weak and I just want to know if it's okay to take him to the emergency room.”
I could go on and ON. Sadly, when Mercury returns from retrograde it won't fix stupid.
Until then I'm wading hip deep in Ramadan hypoglycemic dehydration; speaking English in an English speaking world that doesn't understand English for 24 days; battling electronics full of astral gremlins; stoicism all around me; and JUST about the time all of this extreme insanity returns to normal insanity my beloved boss, my rock, will be entering maternity leave and I will be left in an office with three twenty-something females who are, as we speak, moving towards a synchronization of their menstrual cycles. I recently pointed this out to her. She gave me the most innocent smile I've ever seen on a non-virgin woman and said ever so sweetly.... “I love you.”
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, Rich is on the Chemo again, and the insurance denials of recent claims are flowing like anti-manna from heaven.
Zippity Doo Dah. Life is Good.
I have experienced Ramadan from the fringes before, but that was when 10% of the doctors were fasting. In my one doctor office, 100% of our doctor is fasting. And Ramadan fasting is not like other fasting. We're not talking about no meat on Fridays or giving up chocolate for Lent. From sun up to sun down there is NO food or fluids, including water. This time of year that's a long damn day. I'm not sure what the spiritual benefits are, but I assure you that the physical effects include hypoglycemia and dehydration. Both of which can cause hellatious headaches, nausea, fatigue and exhaustion.
What impresses me is not that Dr Zee fasts—it is the WAY he fasts. He fasts joyfully. He fasts the way the New Testament Gospel writer Matthew instructed us to pray. (Matthew Chapter 7) Fasting has not affected the way he treats his staff, patients or drug reps. He joins us for lunch (catered daily by drug reps) and smiles, jokes and converses as always. He never complains about this ordeal. The only time he speaks of it is to answer the questions that are posed to him about the process, and everyday he fields the same questions because every day it's a different drug rep. I've worked with him for eight months now and have come to know him as someone who represents Islam the way Jesus represents Christianity. I am NOT overstating the example. I would consider converting were it not for the dress code—I get overheated using the microwave.
On two levels this is impacting me. On the one hand I'm getting more calls from pharmacies asking for clarification on prescriptions, and he's answering my “either/ or” questions with “okay”. On the other hand, I seem to be particularly sensitive to watching someone suffer/struggle with a constant smile, sweet nature and never a complaint. Between Dr Zee and Rich, it's every waking moment. Talk about feeling unworthy!
During these days of Ramadan, Mercury is retrograde. For those of you who don't know what Mercury Retrograde means....basically all forms of communication are muddled, stymied, or downright FUBAR'd. Especially for Gemini people, and yes, folks I'm a Gemini. Scoff if you will. I myself never gave credit to the phenomenon. Until....
Friends who avidly followed the cycles of Mercury began to point things out to me and since I don't believe in coincidence, it became increasingly difficult to dismiss. Still I remained skeptical. Until this past spring when Mercury went retrograde from April 3rd to the 17th. Computers crashed, new software failed to perform, AND the phone company disconnected the offices phones. Then could not locate the disconnect order, therefore could not re-establish service because there had not been a disconnect order. In short, our doctor's office was without any phone, fax, email, credit card service for 4 days.
This month Mercury is again retrograde from Aug 2nd to the 26th. A brand new computer that was installed two weeks ago suffered a hard drive crash on Tuesday. Three times now our electronic Rx service has shut down for no apparent reason. 20% of the Rx Dr Zee writes are being denied by insurance. Wait.... that's probably not Mercury....I don't know what planet controls corporate greed.
If you're still skeptical I offer this. Watch live TV—home shopping, news programs, etc. Anything not taped and edited. Seriously, Rich is now totally on board as a result. And it's just good, clean fun.
Find yourself in a constant loop of telephone tag? Every supply order I've placed at work has been screwed up. I'm faxing everything in triplicate because nothing is going through the first two times. I have patients leaving messages as follows:
“Dr Zee ordered this new med for me and I'm just calling to see if he wants me to take it.”
“I need refills on the pills that my other doctor ordered that are blue and taste bad.”
“My husband is having chest pain and he feels sick and weak and I just want to know if it's okay to take him to the emergency room.”
I could go on and ON. Sadly, when Mercury returns from retrograde it won't fix stupid.
Until then I'm wading hip deep in Ramadan hypoglycemic dehydration; speaking English in an English speaking world that doesn't understand English for 24 days; battling electronics full of astral gremlins; stoicism all around me; and JUST about the time all of this extreme insanity returns to normal insanity my beloved boss, my rock, will be entering maternity leave and I will be left in an office with three twenty-something females who are, as we speak, moving towards a synchronization of their menstrual cycles. I recently pointed this out to her. She gave me the most innocent smile I've ever seen on a non-virgin woman and said ever so sweetly.... “I love you.”
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, Rich is on the Chemo again, and the insurance denials of recent claims are flowing like anti-manna from heaven.
Zippity Doo Dah. Life is Good.
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