We met with a hospice doctor on Friday and I hate to beat a dead horse, but the profound difference of speaking with a male doctor versus a female doctor (with the glaring recent exception of that super nasty hospitalist that you know I totally had a long with HR about) is not lost on this female caregiver. I was pretty shocked at how many times the husband was unable to answer her questions and looked to me to fill in for him. But it was also kind of great since his confidence can often times outshine his confusion and I just don't think other doctors are truly understanding how little he is actually understanding. I do think this lady hospice doctor got it though!! And for that I am thankful. Also, when I told her I was reluctant to speak about the husband in front of him she heard me in the most glorious way- because she acknowledged what I said and then immediately stoped expecting me to speak about him in front of him. She and I will have a private phone call this week.
What does that even say about this society that I am sitting here tickled pink after 8 years of full time caregivering because I met a doctor who respectfully listened to me? It's not a great reflection of this country's attitudes towards women, is what it is. It's not like there aren't good male doctors out there, we are talking with the kidney specialist tomorrow. I might have a tiny little crush on him. He is fantastic, but he treats kidney related stuff and I was in need of a big picture doctor and now we are in a better place because we have the shitty one, who I don't like but he is valuable because he is super connected because he has been practicing forever, and we have this new one- who can guide me. But, I did the thing, which is I kept plugging away until I found someone with whom I can have a mutually respectful relationship and for that I am proud of myself, and also so incredibly grateful. She seemed like a great fit for us. It's all good.
On Tuesday I am going to the orthopedist to see if I can figure out why my left butt cheek is suddenly hurting. Are the staircase slips from October coming back to haunt me, and if so why? I would be lying if I said I wasn't scared. I am pretty freaking scared right now. I feel like my luck is going to run out. Is it lucky to have three discs that take turns slipping out of place? NO, but I have been able to handle that for more than 4 decades now. I do not want any more complications. I am actually afraid that he is going to take some images and find a bad surprise. Or maybe I'm just getting more anxious as time goes by. No shock about that.
In keeping with the medical theme of this post, I am also taking the husband for a PET scan of his lungs on Tuesday. That is freaking terrifying also because nothing like a cancer scare ....... I keep telling myself that it can't possibly be cancer and that it must have something to do with all of the choking he does and then I remember that his brother died from cancer and I tell my thoughts to just shut up and wait for the test results. So, I am going to try to not think about it. Nothing I can do before we know anyways, right?
Speaking of test results, we are also waiting for some labs regarding a purulent (I could go on for hours about how much I love that word. Does it not look, sound, smell exactly like what it means? Such a perfect word) substance that oozed out from underneath a scab on the husband's toe while at wound care last week. So, I am holding my breath waiting to hear that this is not a bone infection. Can you imagine if I lost two family members to a toe bone infection? That would be so messed up.
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