Happy Being Normal

Good morning WordPress Friends! I have something good ( for a change and it’s about time🙂 ) that I want to share with you…

I have a job! It’s a regular job that anyone could get but I really love it! And this is the reason why…

Ive felt like a charity case since I’ve been caring for my mother. I sacrificed careers because I realized how fragile she was and how dangerous healthcare can be if it’s not managed carefully.

Normally I’m comfortable as an entrepreneur that’s always thinking of ways to make the world better🙂. From an early start, I didn’t understand why I should invest my time and hard work for the benefit of others who may not even appreciate my contribution.

Today, with maturity, experience, and being broke lol, I see different 🧐. I’m so grateful to hopefully be self sufficient and able to do things for myself and others.  I have energy that I didn’t have. I don’t see sadness in my face when I look in the mirror. My skin has cleared up. I wish I had’ve figured this out sooner!

Now I still have ideas, and my mind is already planning way ahead of my body of the other things that I can accomplish with this new advantage ☺️. But I will try to pace myself and take them one step at a time😊.

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When Is It Okay To Ignore Mental Health

I hate to be the bearer of bad news but things will not change if they are not called out. Last night I was in the hospital with my mother when I noticed irritability in some of the employees and nurses.

One lady asked, “What’s wrong with sixteen?” A different lady replied, “Schizophrenia.” “What tha hell!” The operator says after the call bell starts ringing. I saw the nurse who was taking care of my mother on the telephone.  “I told him he cant use the phone.” She was asking the person on the phone to get her a code that she could show the patient in room sixteen.

The call bell rang again.  “If that bell rings one more time I’m gonna put his ass in the dirt!” I couldn’t believe what I had just heard.  “Unplug his bed and move the bed away from the wall!” “He’s gonna have to be restrained because he keeps pressing code blue!”  Two security guards walked down to room sixteen at a normal pace.  They were there about five minutes and left.  I heard one of them say he would be back later.

My anxiety was on ten because I was concerned for whoever was in room sixteen. I have a relative who had schizophrenia, I’m very familiar with its effects. I tried to remain calm but the maniac inside was fighting hard to get out.  I saw three police officers pass our room.  One asked me if I worked there and then followed the other two.  Their stay was even shorter than the two security guards.

What was happening in room sixteen? All of this over a phone call? I was trying not to pace the room.  I heard a man’s voice.  “What ya’ll do, give him something to knock him out?” The operator’s response was, “Nah, but I wanna go in their and talk to him to torture him that way.” The burly man passed our room with a set of handcuffs. My stomach started churning.  I had already heard his diagnosis of schizophrenia so I was wondering why he wasn’t been treated for his illness. Why was he being tortured while he was having an episode?

I waited for things to calm down at the nurses station.  My mother was resting and seemed not to notice the disturbance.  I walked three small steps to the nurses station to let them know of my safety concerns for my mother and the rest of the patients who were relying on them for care.  The operator smiled and told me that the guy in sixteen was a prisoner and that they had things under control.  My response to her was that I was not concerned of our safety because of the patient in sixteen, that I was concerned due to the abusive language that was being used by them along with their actions toward the patient in sixteen.

I stayed the night because I couldn’t leave my mother alone with people who were out of control, aggressive, and lacking compassion. The morning nurse wanted to talk about last nights incident. He told me that the patient was not a prisoner. He told me that he was a scared teenager. He shared the patients history with me before telling me that he was being given seizure medication for his personality disorder.  DEPAKOTE was the medicine they were giving him. I asked him why wasn’t he being given a different medication. I have had personal experience with this drug and have witnessed its side effects. My mother had seizures in January due to poor care in a dialysis facility.  My mother who could not move and had to be turned in the bed, lifted, cleaned, etc., acquired a strength that I had not seen in her in several years after taking Depakote.  She was extremely irritable and combative.

While on Depakote, my mother was restrained in her bed and was able to slide out of the restraints.  I recorded the incident while it was happening because I knew anyone who knew my mother probably would think I was exaggerating the episode due to my mothers previous state. I told the morning nurse that I requested the Depakote to be discontinued due to the aggression and increased confusion.  My mother who has never called me someone else, started calling me Cynthia while she was on the drug.  When the drug stopped, the side effects subsided.

Sometimes I feel bad that I care about the treatment of the weak so much because there’s so much mistreatment going on in the world.  I feel bad that it feels like there’s nothing I can do to make things better. I don’t want to be a trouble maker or someone who doesn’t know how to mind their own business, but I cant control my passion to stand for those who cannot stand for themselves. I really wanted to tell those people that they had run their race and need to retire, or that they shouldn’t be allowed anywhere near sick people, but I didn’t. I’ll find a more progressive way to say it while searching for solutions for better healthcare.

 

 

What Do You Do

What do you do when someone’s life depends on you

How do you live when no one else is willing to give

How do you decide what choices you should make

How do you know when to give or when to take

How do you overcome hopelessness and despair

How do you mask feelings and pretend not to care

How do you say I had dreams and it hurts that you and I exist in this gray

What do you do when your love is slowly fading away

I don’t know, there’s nothing left to say

I love you mama, forever and a day

 

 

Medicine 101

I really don’t like to complain or appear as   a trouble maker.  But most days I feel like one because there is always a reason to address a matter of importance.

My mother is still in the hospital and I have had concerns with the treatment. These are the reasons why:

1. The hospital struggled with charting and communicating her current medication regimen after being given the list three times.  The hospital was still using a list ten years old.  ( Life Threatening ) It’s good that I’m with her because she can’t speak for herself.

2. My hundred pound mother had not taken anything in or eaten a full meal in about seven days, so she has been really weak and inactive. She’s just sleeping.  She was dialyzed here in the hospital on Saturday and the order was to pull two liters of fluid from her that she didn’t have.  I asked them to filter her blood without pulling, but she was worse after the treatment. They may have pulled it anyway.

3. Since she was weaker after being dialyzed, still really sleepy, and not eating,  I asked the physician to give her fluids intravenously and asked the nurses for chicken broth that I could give her through a straw. These things should have been suggested instead of my having to ask.

4. Last night the nurse came in with her medicines and named a sleeping pill.  A sleeping pill for someone that’s struggling to stay awake? Also there was an order for five units of humalog ( fast acting insulin) with meals.  Her glucose levels are not high enough for that dose.  That amount could easily put her into a diabetic coma if she was eating but with her not eating almost definitely diabetic coma.

Conclusion: These occurrences are not surprising to me since I’ve been running into this for many years.  I just don’t understand why it’s happening so often in so many different facilities.  Think of the lives that have been lost unnecessarily due to situations that weren’t complicated, they just lacked communication or common sense.

So when we are in hospitals I have to articulate my mother’s care.  This seriously concerns me for all patients but even more so for patients who cannot speak for themselves and have no one to speak for them.

My mission and objective is to work together to make the system work better.

 

As A Tree

Write something for me

Write me as a tree

What kind should it be

The Weeping Willow, Silent Magnolia, Stolid Pine, Strong Cedar, Vibrant Poplar

Weeping Willow would be suiting

Gently flowing with the wind

Regret trickling down my skin

Actively reaching to caress a friend

 

 

What If

What if your mind was free

and you saw little difference between you and me

What kind of place would it be

 

What if unconcern was rare

And most people possessed humanity’s care

How much life would it spare

 

What if violence was absurd

And peace was more than just a word

A world worthy to observe

 

What if excuses couldn’t be used

And crazy was no longer a muse

A life too good to refuse