Tag Archives: health

Physician, #HealThyself: Pt. lVa Dr A, Neurologist

Posted in May by

Dr A was the neurologist on call at Doctor’s Hospital where Miss Cathy was recovering after an accident in 2010. He was brought in the evaluate her after I noticed that she didn’t seem quite right even though the hospital was about to discharge her because she’d (luckily) not sustained any broken bones after her fall and her vital signs were all normal.

And sure enough, after a series of tests Dr A concluded that she had Dementia, Stage one Alzheimer’s.

I left my life to join hers soon after and became her primary caregiver.

It made sense to add Dr A to her ‘team’ of doctors since she was comfortable with him and he was the doctor that diagnosed her condition.

When I first met the doctor I took note of his professionalism, directness and knowledge of the disease (which at the time I only had a “Lifetime Movie of the Week” awareness of).

Once she was back home we saw Dr A at his private practice near her condo.

I was a fast learner and not just about the disease. One of the things I learned was that a doctor’s beside manner in the hospital is one thing and how he runs his practice to be quite another.

In time I became dissatisfied with Dr A and had to remember that I was the caregiver and not the patient. Miss Cathy by all accounts (and after direct questioning) was pleased with his care.

I had to remind myself of what one of best friends said to me early on, “Regardless of your personal opinions or feelings toward any of the ‘team’ all I have to do is collaborate with the doctors and get them to collaborate with one another”.

My friend stressed the word ’collaborate’ so many times that it’s all I can remember.

In my mind’s eye I couldn’t help but see the duck from the old Groucho Marx TV show drop down from the ceiling on a string with the word ‘collaborate’ written in block letters on a piece of paper hanging from it’s beak.

But, this was not some late night talk show with a panel of ‘B’ list actors from the Golden Age of Television and I was not a quick witted, Jewish comedian with a sight gag. I was dealing with a humorless doctor and a parent/patient that was content.

So, as the months turned into years and as the appointments with Dr A started to accumulate I started to question his methods and wonder if another neurologist could serve my mom better…or was this just about me and my ability to collaborate?

No matter, Miss Cathy was happy with Dr A, and in her eyes he could do no wrong…that was until a loss of vision caused her to see him in a different way.

Therapy Pt. ll: #CyberPaperTiger

Posted in April by

Our family meeting was on a Saturday so first thing the following Monday morning I was up early researching therapists to make Miss Cathy some appointments. The first call I made was to Dr G, her family doctor, he’s the doctor that’s known her longest and she respects the most.

Just like in business, it’s always smart to network with those that you respect and healthcare is no exception.

These days the instinct is to type ‘Therapist’ into Google but I think it’s best to have a referral (if possible) from a doctor who knows your loved one so that there is (hopefully) a personal connection when they are giving you a therapist’s contact information.

Unfortunately I did not feel ‘connected’ to the therapist Dr G recommended.

The therapists’ office was located nearby which is convenient but unlike in real estate it’s not just about “location, location, location”.

I’d called to set up a consultation with the therapist’s office and almost immediately I was turned off by the receptionist’s Priorities. She seemed to be much more focused with how the practice was going to be paid than with information about a potential new client.

Believe me, I know that the medical field is a business and everybody is out to “get paid” but can’t we at least have a modicum of pretense that it’s about the patient and not “the paper”?

The person that I spoke with also referred me to the practices’ website where “I” was to download, print out and fill out several forms to bring to the first meeting (information regarding payment-first and foremost).

While asking for a dossier (even before one sees a doctor) is quite common these days I just didn’t get a great feeling from the elitism of it all.

What if I didn’t own a computer, printer or have an Internet connection? Isn’t it awfully presumptive of a person’s status on the part of the doctor’s office?

And it’s not like we’re talking about making a ‘Ped’s’ appointment for a child here, this is an appointment for someone that’s almost an octogenarian.

Suppose Miss Cathy was the one calling to set up the consultation, can you imagine her trying to navigate the homepage, ‘clicking’ on links, going from ‘new patients’ to ‘forms’ to…well, you get the picture, besides, I don’t think mom has turned on a computer since she retired from the Veterans’ Administration back in Nineteen hundred and ninety three…enough said.

It just seems to me to be alittle insensitive for someone who supposedly specializes in geriatric counseling to put a 21st century burden on people born in the early part of the 20th century, is he a “Therapist’ or a ‘Cyber Paper Tiger’?

Physician, #HealThyself: Pt.lll Dr G, General Practioner/Family Doctor

Posted in April by

I called Dr G a few days after Miss Cathy’s world wind of ‘white coat’ hopping (from ophthalmologist to neurologist to numerous test) to hear him say that no one had called him regarding her condition (quelle surprise!).

“This is the first I’m hearing of it, tell me what’s going on.”

So, I did.

Dr G is her primary care physician. He’s someone that she’s been seeing for well over 30 years. She is very comfortable with him and he with her; after all of these years they have a sort of shorthand when they get together.

I remember him from years ago when I used to visited mom from where I lived in New York and he still looks the same; old, wise and kind. Come to think of it…if he was ‘old’ then and now, thirty (plus) years later he’s ‘older’ still, the how old is it?

The mind reels.

Anyway, he’s one of the last of a dying breed of doctors that ‘might’ actually make a house call if you were in such a need.

Since I’ve been Miss Cathy’s caregiver he’s on time for our appointments (or damn near close to it) professional and compassionate. He always returns a telephone call and follows through with whatever he says he will do for you.

That’s pretty much the ‘gold standard” of a successful working relationship (in any profession) in my opinion-but when a doctor is part of the equation it’s even more important to know that you can count on them to do what they say they’ll do.

I’m not talking about a doctor becoming your bff and calling every time something funny happens on RuPaul’s DragRace (although lets face it-something funny is always happening on RuPaul’s DragRace).

But, even though we all know that doctors are busy and they have responsibilities WE as caregivers and patients are just as busy and we have a responsibility to our health (or the health of a loved one) and that needs to be respected and reciprocated.

And Dr G does all that.

A good doctor is like a the best waiter in a four star restaurant, you know they have other tables to serve besides yours but somehow they appear when you need them, listen to what you want, bring it to you and make you feel as if you’re the only table in the joint.

And that’s’ what I’m looking for from Miss Cathy’s’ ‘team’….I want to feel like we’re the only table in the joint.

Do I look fat in this life?

Posted in August by

There are a lot of things that go into being a caregiver; some you know (and are prepared for) and there are other things you learn as you go.

I’ve found a lot of support these past two years from Alz.org, chat rooms and support group meetings but one thing that surprised me about this experience that seems to be overlooked and never really talked about (at least not to me) is the tendency for the caregiver to get FAT.

I look around at a lot of the caregivers that I’ve met and I see a lot of lard asses-mine especially. As Whoopi Goldberg quipped, “Once I thought someone was sneaking up behind me and when I turned to look I realized it was my own ass.”

I bring this up not to say that this happens all the time to everyone in my situation. No, there are a lot of caregivers who have been able to balance the enormity of their new roles without becoming enormous themselves.

But it did get me to thinking about the connection between the stress we’re under and obesity.

We all know that obesity is rampant in our society; poor diets and lack of exercise being two (obvious) reasons but stress has been linked as a contributing factor as well. For me, and I’m only talking about my own tonnage here, I found that there was so much to do in the beginning and so much change occurring that once I had my routines set up for my loved one and I had a chance to catch my breathe and focus on myself what I saw surprised me.

How did this happen and when did I let myself go?

I began to wonder, like the “freshman fifteen” that some young people gain during there first year of college; due to the change in environment, the stress and the anxiety of being on their own for the first time, is there a similar correlation for caregivers as we transition into a new environment, as well as the stress and anxiety of “Not” being on our own for the first time as well?

If freshman can be forgiven for their “fifteen”, is it possible for me to get a little understanding for my “Alzheimer’s eight” or the “Dementia dozen”?

Believe me, I take full responsibility for my rotund-ti-ty, as my role as caregiver has expanded so has my waistline. And while I never had Paul Ryan’s abs (and thankfully I never had his views on restricting women’s reproductive rights either) I would like to see my feet again some day.

It’s nobody’s fault but my own and intellectually I know what needs to be done to return to my former svelte self-eat less and exercise. But, that’s easier said than done when you’ve stressed, often lonely and lack the motivation to give yourself the time and energy you’ve poured into your charge.

It’s not that I’ve been “so” selfless, I’ve just been too tired to care and being out of my own environment and routines I’ve found that I’ve developed some really bad habits-namely eating too much of the wrong food and not moving my body any more than is necessary.

The reality is that at the end of a day running around looking after someone else the last thing I want to do is run for myself.

I used to go to the gym, walk (I’m a former four mile a day runner but I blew my knees out years ago and switched to walking long distances instead) and maintained a rigorous stretching and exercise routine.

I ate a healthy, varied diet of vegetables, fruits, chicken, fish, some red meat and low fat or sugar free desserts. It was satisfying, I didn’t feel deprived and it gave me the energy I needed to fuel my life.

Unfortunately, it seem that these days I’ve pretty much abandoned anything that’s healthy for whatever is quick and easy (which mean it’s usually something frozen, processed and full of sugar and/or sodium). And I greedily grab for any and everything that can give me a moment’s comfort or (faux) sense of relief from my daily life’s stresses (read: junk food and sweets).

This is a classic case of emotional eating and sublimation.

Think of it this way, while the anorexic or bulimic denies themselves food or regurgitate as a way to control one aspect of a life off-kilter, (maybe) my eating and sloth like existence is my way of “not” having to be in control when I have to be responsible for someone else all the time-for the first time.

Hmmmm, maybe I’m onto something here….but, like the person who tries to commit suicide-you’re trying to kill the wrong person….so, maybe I’m force-feeding the wrong person, too (metaphorically).

No, I’m not saying I should be strapping Miss Cathy to her bed and feeding her color coordinated food nonstop till she fattens up like a piece of veal (not to say that she’s not doing a pretty good of that all on here own)…but I digress.

No, what I think my “light bulb” moment is telling me is that what I’ve been doing by engaging in behavior that I know is bad (and bad for me) is that I’m punishing myself instead of expressing the anger I feel toward my charge and the difficult situation I find myself in but was unprepared for emotionally (unknowingly).

So, I turn to food (that tasty panacea) and inertia; depression, denial and frustration all seem to more palatable when you’re prostrate with a plate.

Great, now that I’ve acknowledged the obvious I hope it’ll help when the cookies are calling me at midnight when I decide to stay up and watch “Shoah”.

While I seriously doubt that anything will change overnight with this revelation I do know that the first step to solving a problem is acknowledging it. I didn’t exactly work up a sweat thinking this through but I do think it was an exercise worth pursuing.

Who knows, now that the mind has been stimulated maybe I’ll surprise myself next by moving my body…….even if it’s just to push back from the table.