Sept 18: a few follow-ups

It's only been 11 days since my last posting--seems like more. Not sure why.

Cleaning out continues. Three friends from church came up last weekend and did MAJOR stuff. The basement is starting to look really organized, the garage showing slower improvement. A lot more stuff to go through, of course, so had them leave boxes out to force me into coping with things. Kim cleaned my bathroom, Carol changed my bed and did laundry, Rick did lots of stuff--all of them were wonderful.

Just posted ad for apartment on Craig's List. A couple of responses, one asking about dogs despite my saying 'no dogs' in the ad. Barking, too many chances to step in left over dog poop, and getting the dogs next door into a frenzy. Someone coming over Sunday (hopefully). Crossing my fingers....

KC only walked on the harnass well that once. Sorry, Deneen!

Not only did the patient from the other week recover wonderfully, he and his daughter came in for his first office visit yesterday! It would have been great to see him, but I was coping with a patient who became a vomiting wonder (a NUCLEATED vomiting wonder, mind you) during, and for 45 minutes after, her pharmocologic stress test. By the time everything was taken care of, the VW moving to the back of an ambulance and finishing the stress test on the poor patient that waited through all of that, the two people I really wanted to see had left. But not before his daughter dropped off a bag with a "Thank you" angel and cards. The first from the family expressing their appreciation, the second signed by the patient saying "Thank you for saving my life" and signed with his full name (which just struck me as a particularly funny thing!). Obviously, I burst into tears, causing moderate concern from the patients in the waiting room anticipating their stress tests.

Now, it's me, so it can't be that straightforward. More thorough inspection showed that it was the daughter who actually wrote everything but the signature. The patient had a slighly different reaction to being resuscitated. It seems that he had a wonderful near-death experience (NDE): tunnel, warm, beautiful light, happiness. After having my tube out of his throat he proceeded to berate his daughter for letting me pull him out of the warm, happy place! Sigh. Some days it's just impossible to win.

On the bright side :) this story is more reinforcement that what comes after this is so much better than this world. Unless you commit suicide--those are never good NDEs. Really. I did a paper on NDEs for a psych class, and anyone who had them after trying to kill themselves had a terrible, negative experience. But ones that happened from unintentioned incidents were always wonderful. Stories like this were why I was not afraid to die. (Well, except while tottering on the edge of the abyss. There's still the fear of the unknown.) So maybe this is the larger lesson: reassurance that death is not anything to be afraid of. Hope this helps.

At the end of the busy weekend day of cleaning and all, I turned that familiar shade of ashen gray well-known to many of you. This week I worked four full days in a row and am feeling very tired. It's a really deep tired that needs a few days to recuperate, which is why it's a good thing I don't work the next three days.

Thanks for checking in, Laurie