Gotta Love That Lorazepan

So what shall we talk about today?

How about how some of my roommates keep on croaking?

In my corner suite, I had a lovely 18 year old girl roommate for a while called Ally. She was a sweetheart but decided to get the hell out of here on Saturday cause she said she’d been here 6 weeks and the drs still weren’t helping her. According to her blood work she was getting worse and so she discharged herself. She used to be a Sick Kids hospital patient all her life because she was born with a genetic disease where her body creates benign tumours. She said the hospital food and care was much better over there. I don’t blame her from leaving. She told me the room was haunted and she was glad she had a roommate cause there were strange noises in the night and bangs and sometimes a white haired lady named Gertrude would come in and scare the hell out of her.

Well Gertrude did in fact show up early the next morning, so I rang the call button and told her there was a wanderer in my room.

It’s an interesting floor, this one. The north side has dementia patients who often escape from their rooms. Every once in a while you here code white or code yellow 10th floor and a room number and you know ones escaped. Can’t remember which one means the escapee is violent but Bobo looked outside my room one time and was laughing because this frail old lady was swatting at a nurse with her hands because she didn’t want to go back to her room. There is also an old guy with two canes that likes to go in other peoples rooms.

So when Ally left on Saturday I got a new roommate, a Greek lady. My Greek friend Cathy stayed overnight and was talking to the woman’s husband. I took a sleeping pill and was out like a light. Good thing too cause Cathy told me the next morning that the woman next door to me died. My respirologist came looking for me during the night and ended up at her bedside. Apparently her heart was bleeding into her lung so they told her husband to call their sons and they took her to a private room. Cathy asked me if I heard everything that happened last night.

Nope.

Not a thing.

Gotta love that Lorazepan,

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Dr. Death

I wrote some blogs on my iPad and will be posting them today as I can only handle wifi for a short amount of time.

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Let me introduce you to my newest Dr., Dr Death, from the palliative care team. He, as far as I can tell, wants to make REALLY SURE you understand that you are going to DIE, and it’s going to be soon. Get your affairs in order, and decide what you want to do about the “Do Not Resuscitate” orders because it’s not fair for your family to have to decide to pull your plug. “Well,” I told him, “I want to discuss that with my husband.” I already told him not to keep me on life support if I was a vegetable. My parents/sisters would keep me like this forever I’m afraid, but he would have to do the right thing. What would be the point waking up from something like that to be in more pain? If anyone one tried CPR on my bones right now, they’d crush me.

We talked about chemo. He said it probably would not be in my best interest to do that right now because it would probably kill me faster. Finally someone agrees with me.

I spoke to my oncologist and asked him 3 questions. Here were his responses.

1. If I take this chemo, what is the probability that it will help me? (20-30%)
2. How much longer will it extend my life? (An extra 1-2 months).
3. What is the probability that this chemo is going to harm me? (High given the fact I’m not walking around independently for more than 1/2 day).

So really folks, what’s the point in becoming bald from chemo, not getting out of bed because you’re too sick, and spending an extra one or two months alive feeling like shit? Forget it. Besides, this chemo (cousin) was the one that stopped my heart dead. It’s like being offered a ticket to death row to be executed right now and I’m not that nuts to do it. Chances are I’ll live longer doing nothing.

So that’s what I’m doing. I really can’t complain. I superseded the expectations of the medical system for 8 years. I should have been dead a long time ago. But God gave me extra time on this earth to do the stuff that made me really happy which was to teach, coach, do art, be with my family and travel. And I live with no regrets because even if my life is cut short, I had a really truly amazing and satisfying life. I had a career I loved. Going to work and getting paid for having a great time being with kids was immensely satisfying. I have two wonderful children and a husband who loves me. I have great friends, relatives, my mom and dad and sisters. What can be better than that? Life has been grand and I’m grateful.