Another Healthcare Faux Pas

When I learned that there might be some pain relief for me if I went to a clinic that specifically focused on headaches, I was encouraged. I have some form of headache or migraine virtually every day. Pain lowers seizure threshold. Neurologists in this specialty have more strategies than typical anti-inflammatory and narcotic pain medications, over-the counter preparations, and the therapies we chronic folks go in and out of all the time, i.e. chiropractic care and physical therapy. I can rarely tolerate pain medication anymore and have used it sparingly my 30 years of chronic pain. Looked to me like there was something more to learn, some hope for a better quality of life, so I asked my Doctor for a referral to a headache clinic. What would I have to lose?

My dignity. Last Monday my dignity took a major hit at another major medical center. Here’s the raw footage from a message that I sent to a friend when I was still in shock.

Had a very odd, traumatic, and disappointing day at the headache clinic at the CC today. Gotta get this out. The MD Fellow with a couple months of experience listened to me, made a new HA diagnosis along with med ideas to try to manage them. This could raise the threshold for the convulsions, providing relief for both the episodes and HA pain. I have a HA every day and both HA and convulsions have been worse. Tweaked my diet recently and at least the HA came down enough to make the trip: 4 hours each way. The building was old and musty. It rained during half of each travel period. I had 2 hours of sleep Sunday night. I was ripe for an episode at some point; short tic attacks in the truck on the way out. Still was hopeful. The telehealth appts with the first 2 CC specialists 2 weeks paved the way for this appointment.

Then the young MD left to review my case with the staff MD; they both returned. We went in person so I could have a more comprehensive neuro exam. All the 2nd neurologist had me do was demo 5 simple range of motion exercises. A disastrous seizure attack ramped up within a minute! Thankfully I could blurt out to get Steve as she tried to coach me on breathing ex in a childlike way. I blurted out that I can’t breathe! She continued. I asked to lie down. The high velocity, repetitive, involuntary movements were injuring my neck n back. It’s terrifying and dangerous. SHE SAID NO! I could not believe my ears. Steve picked me up, my legs hanging, arms curled up, and put me on the exam table. I was able to get into my recovery position that protects my neck. Screams emerged that I cannot control. The pain seared my spine, head, extremities. Then they left. 4 times in this visit I asked to have the door closed (for privacy). 3x they said no so they could hear me if “anything happened.” Like what, I thought to myself. It was already happening. Steve stood nearby for my safety. I heard people walking by in the hallway. This is a HIPPA violation. (Correction: This actually violates their Patient Bill of Rights, posted on the CC website.)

Steve and I found ways to develop a plan. There were 3 violent episodes in total over an hour. The Med Asst came in once (as id’d by her voice, my eyes were pulled closed) and nurses after the 3rd round. I asked for the Doc. My tongue was thick and protruding out of my mouth, pulled to the right. My right arm dangled lifeless towards the floor; left arm curled and tucked in a flexion posture to my chest. This is mixed hemiparesis. But the young Doc had already left the building. The nurse said if it didn’t stop I was to go to the ER. How would I get there like that, I wondered, struggling to communicate and trying not to chew my tongue or trigger a rebound reaction. Finally I could ask Steve to turn out the lights. He put Prednisone in my mouth despite the snot and tears staining and stinging my face. I was able to ask for ice. Putting ice on the back of my neck broke the pain cycle worsening the episode. Like and overfilled balloon losing air, my body started to calm down. It took about 10 minutes.

The nice nurse had gotten a wheelchair. She figured I would be too tired to walk. I blurted out a thank you. I think she had left when I could tell Steve that I was WALKING OUT OF THERE under my own power. Any shred of dignity required it. I grieved so much on and off through this horror and trauma before I could finally sit up and stay up. Time to use the bathroom, wash my face, and get out of there. Soon I was gingerly walking out of there with all parts moving, albeit weakly. There was no one in the hallway. There was no one at their desk. We walked out into the dusk and rain.

Somehow during the first episode I was able to ask the young Doc to write down her recommendations for me. I’m glad I did. She hand wrote on my summary note only wrote 1 of 5 ideas she had for me. I was able to reconstruct the rest of it on our way home. The older Doc must have been the one to write a different, generic diagnosis. Only 1 recommendation was given and it was for a treatment program at CC that I already did at the Mayo Clinic. It made no lasting impact. Steve and I concurred that the older neurologist was of no benefit. He has seen this discounting behavior before. He said it’s why he jumped in to help me while the Doc did some chanting thing.

I’ll message the young Doc tomorrow via the MyChart online portal for her rec again. Hope she can do so for me. I went there for help with HA pain. I have no meds I can tolerate for pain when things get bad. The modalities help some. But with my chiro out with COVID, reg Doc/chiro rescheduling 60% of my appts due to his busy practice, difficulty getting to PT, and increased episodes, I need more tools to lower the pain threshold. The headache-specific tools could be a game-changer. Then I can go back to natural stuff. And be out of bed, able to function more again. Funny how I’m at the book of Job again as I continue to read through the Bible.

I spent the next 2 days largely bed-bound, struggling to function at all. The young Doc returned my message with the same diagnosis and recommendations as the older Doc but did add the name of the 2 classes of medications she had recommended. At least there was something new to pursue with my Family Doctor. I started an herbal remedy for headaches anyways and at day 5, the daily headache had already started to improve. But I still wanted to see their report. Turns out I was in for another shock when it became available 6 days later.

The Progress Note that got posted in my patient portal and I anticipate will be sent to my Family Doctor is a FABLE! The report lists so much false or inaccurate information that I wonder who they are talking about? Numerous tests were never completed but there are results listed for them! Below is my responses from the “Request for Amendment of protested Health Information” filed today in my patient portal on the CC website.

The Progress Note contains falsified information.  The following tests WERE NOT completed:

REVIEW OF SYSTEMS:  None of these questions were asked.  7 mm kidney stone, intractable back pain, arthritis, significant sleep disturbance with Mild Sleep Apnea denied or omitted.

PHYSICAL EXAM for rash (present on both legs), cardiovascular & lungs (no stethoscope exam), vascular (no checks).

CRANIAL NERVES:  No exam completed.  No sensory testing, venous checks.  My tongue protruded to right during the convulsive episode (in your office).

MOTOR EXAM:  No MMT completed of UE or LE.  Right UE hung from table during convulsive episode.

SENSATION:  No one touched me except for vitals.

CEREBELLAR:  Convulsed for total of 60 minutes.  No finger to nose, heel to shin, rapid alt movements completed.

REFLEXES:  All values are false.  No testing completed.  Neither Doctor saw me walk in the room nor had me do toe or tandem walk.

What does the current information say that you believe is inaccurate?

The only PHYSICAL EXAM that was completed was an upper extremity range of motion which was WNL, interview, and vitals.

Multiple false values need to be deleted.  We drove 4 hours each way to have a comprehensive neurological exam completed and all that was done was an interview, observation, and BUE AROM test.  No one touched me to do a physical exam of my heart, lungs, reflexes, cranial nerves, strength or other tests.  Neither Doctor completed the gait tests noted nor saw me ambulate in the room.  Neither Doctor reviewed my Headache Scores with me.  When the BUE AROM test triggered aura then speech changes, searing head/neck pain, tics then a convulsive episode, I struggled to ask to lie down.  Dr. K (the older Doctor who I finally got to see her name when it was stated on the PR) said “NO.” Whiplash re-injury followed from severe involuntary movements.  My husband picked me up and put me on the exam table in a position so I could brace my head from further injury.  Dr. K chanted to breathe deeply.  Sometime later my husband put 60 mg of Prednisone in my mouth.  I do not know when the Doctors left.  Later a nurse checked on me and brought ice for the back of my head/neck and the episode stopped completely within a minute thereafter.

We could have done this verbal exam by tele-health without the trauma of this visit, extensive travel, and false report.  My “After Visit Summary” includes the diagnosis of Chronic Nonintractable Headache, Unspecified Headache Type.  This diagnosis is not on the Progress Report that I anticipate is going to my family practice physician, Dr. J, for continuation of care.  Please add it as an addendum.

Sigh. Big sigh. I have no idea from where they got the physical exam results that are listed in the Progress Report. They are fabricated, false, wrong. The Request for Amendment of Protected Health Information can take 60 days to receive a reply. I looked up the Clinic’s HIPPA policy and Patient Bill of Rights and Responsibilities. Looks like my privacy concerns fit more the latter and that I would have to contact an outside agency to file a complaint. It’s too soon to consider such action. I’ll see what the Request yields. Not sure if I should contact the young Doctor or not. She was actually very professional and listened to me. At the Mayo Clinic, the “MD Fellow” residents are able to file their own report in addition to the supervising physician. At CC, only a report with Dr. K’s signature on it is filed beyond the Visit Summary you get walking out the door (that only contains a preliminary diagnosis, single statement of recommendation, and information I had provided to the patient portal). The gross inaccuracies on the Progress Report from CC renders it useless in my humble opinion.

We’ll see what my Family Doctor says. He is a brilliant diagnostician and loves to review special reports. He’s just too busy most of the time to dig into the differential diagnoses of my case sometimes. Looks like the Docs at CC were also so they made it up. Another healthcare faux pas for sure. Oy vey. JJ

What else could they do?

The glass chamber is designed to match your body temperature while you complete the subtests of the Pulmonary Function Test. Mike did his job. Steve helped where he could. And for me?

The trauma was REAL.

The cardio-pulmonary work-up continued this past week with a carotid ultrasound, beginning of a 7-day EKG event monitor, and the torture chamber otherwise known as a Pulmonary Function Test (PFT). Perhaps the PFT is not designed to create stress but completing it between 5 sets of convulsive episodes was a real bite in the shorts!

I knew the risks for me for the PFT from having completed one about 5 years ago. We were unable to progress to the section administered after a bronchodilator medication because of convulsive episodes triggered in the first few subtests. So this time I asked my beloved to drive me to the hospital for the test and brought with me several rescue remedies that sometimes stop the attacks. With assistance to administer them I might get through it all. When Thursday came I was not motivated to head out the door for the hospital and after only 4 1/2 hours of sleep. Looked like it was going to be the same story, different day.

The first part of the test went alright as Respiratory Therapist Mike kept a close eye on me. I had given him the spiel of what can happen if I had a seizure attack, including the request not to call the paramedics if I had an episode! He said he understood and actually stayed calm throughout the entire ordeal. Seizure-like tics began after the 2nd subtest and most of the ones that followed. Steve graciously brought me the ice pack I had in my lunch bag which served to slow each episode once placed over my sternum. We continued and eventually got it all done like a good beating on a warm summer day.

The test that required you to breathe against resistance was particularly frightening. When deep breathing or panting re-triggers the episodes, I thought that surely breathing against the mouthpiece where my airway would be blocked would be good. On the contrary. It actually calmed me down considerably! Holy cow. Have we found another tool to help control these dang things? Mike said that breathing against resistance stimulated the vagus nerve. Well there you go again. I first started looking into vagus nerve seizures and treatment strategies at the beginning of 2018. This ultimately led me to see a Craniomandibular Specialist and the rest is now history. But here we are again. The trigeminal nerve of the TMJ and the vagus are interrelated cranial nerves. To date only these 2 of the many vagus nerve stimulation techniques I have tried have proven to be helpful. Turns out there is a difference between the sympathetic and parasympathetic fibers of this 10th of the 12 cranial nerves; the trigeminal is the 5th. We shall revisit this topic here again another day for sure.

The PFT was scheduled for about an hour. We left after 2 hours! Each time there was a trigger of seizure-like tics, we had to stop for me to struggle to pick up the ice pack on the laminate floor of the glass chamber, apply it to my chest, then wait for things to calm down again. The violent shaking wrenched my neck. I longed to lower myself to the floor and curl up in a ball, holding my head and neck. The pain, the pain. At home I struggle (or Steve carries me) to lie down someplace safe where I can grasp my head and neck to prevent whiplash. Not so during the PFT. My right leg banged against the metal frame and glass walls of the chamber a few times; my body tensed with fright as I feared falling off of the narrow stool and onto the hard, linoleum floor. No warm blanket was anywhere to be found. Mike and Steve just watched in silence each time. What else could they do?

Times like these finds me terrified of falling and getting injured. Gratefully I have never fallen even after thousands of these wretched episodes. But initiating movements of any kind to either speak, break a fall, or otherwise create safety exacerbates the directionality and velocity of the seizing; this in turn creates a high risk to fall or get injured! Too bad that I am awake to remember all of this hell unlike an epileptic seizure where the person is unconscious. (Well it’s probably good so that I don’t have the injuries that can come with falling after passing out.) I guess it’s my own form of grace manifest as survival mode. Tense my muscles to prevent of a fall but trigger a rebound: increased rapid-fire, uncontrolled shaking of an appendage or two that may bang against whatever is nearby. Metal frames and glass walls. Still can’t speak most of the time. Breathing? Yeah maybe. Oy vey. I hate this!

It took awhile after the PFT was over to regain enough muscle control to walk out of the chamber of doom to a chair across the room. Perhaps it will be diagnostic for the cardiologist later this month as to why forced-breathing maneuvers trigger such bad episodes? Maybe the test results will show something this time? Everything flooded my mind as I tried to be pleasant to the two men staring at me the whole time who were powerless to do much to help. They were both most kind. I could see it in their eyes above the masks they both wore. (I was the only one allowed to remove mine! Go COVID-19!) Mike and Steve remained standing as I slumped into a hard plastic chair in the opposite corner of the room. One of them asked if I needed anything but I just couldn’t speak very well yet to respond. Managing the wires from the EKG event monitor, holding the ice pack to my chest, and groping for a snack bar in my lunch bag for something to revive me was about all I could handle. Steve opened the packaging of a Clif Nut Butter Bar and helped me get a drink of water. He knows the routine well. Love that man!

Cracking jokes has been my way to bring humanity to this hell when someone new comes along for the experience. “Welcome to my nightmare.” “I guess I’ve completed my involuntary exercise program today.” Or something similar are my usual bylines. I let a few fly. Before long we were leaving. I was walking verrrrry slowly however.

Somehow I got through a telehealth medical appointment a few hours later followed by a full day of several long blocks of sleep. Thankfully I had made some food ahead of time and thankfully Steve was willing to bring me a meal later on as I began to recover. My Skype appointment on Friday needed to be cancelled and I declined an additional make-up appointment from a second Provider. I was too weak and shaky. About all I accomplished on Friday was a load of laundry and achieving many levels on a word game app. The pup got lots of scratches too.

Two days later I realized how traumatic all of this was. A dearth of tears busted out after yet another bad episode and eventually I got the story typed out here. Perhaps someday these wretched convulsive episodes will stop. Maybe my beloved Steve and I will actually get a peaceful night of sleep on a regular basis, together. Maybe my life will be about the volunteer stuff I get to do here and there instead of medical appointments every week. Seems like we are getting closer than ever before to the mechanism of action of what triggers and what stops these waking, convulsive episodes; I have a few rescue remedies that keep me out of the emergency room these days. Yay God! Lord willing, I pray and plead, my Jesus will mercifully bring me to complete healing. Maybe someday soon? JJ

King Tut Grass and Cannas @ParkviewHealth
Mandevilla vine, Begonias, Geraniums (right) and Potato Vine (left) @ParkviewHealth

Not nicer but deeper

Signs of spring abound juxtaposing the promise of new life with the reality of death in this season of both green and black, this season of life altered by a rogue virus. How can we possibly take it all in?

The goodness that we can find in our shared humanity isn’t far off as neighbors serenade the streets with music. We put teddy bears in the front windows of our homes for the kids passing by at a safe distance or join masses of cars flashing emergency lights to support the healthcare workers laboring inside our local medical centers at night. Each gesture brings a smile, some warmth for a brief moment in time.

Conversely it seems that the fear of a silent killer has intensified the divisiveness, the viciousness in social and public media to levels not seen since caveman days. Our society has gone beyond simple disagreement to sarcasm and its true definition: to “tear flesh.” Hatred, really. It doesn’t matter to the masses that we are all in this together, that we are all at war against the same enemy. The process of dealing with COVID-19 will reveal the good and bad in each of us at some point. The stress is crushing in the weakness of our humanity. If you looked more closely I believe you could say that below the surface, we are all hurting from the loss of life as we once knew it.

I’ll never forget the 2 women joking about the newly coined term of “social distancing” in front of the organic produce section of our local grocery store as we waited our turns to step up and select a vegetable or two. That was only a month ago. Yesterday no one was joking in their combination of bare hands or gloves and masks, grasping a sanitized shopping cart, and standing 6 feet apart on the blue stickers marking the floor at the checkout line. The air was tense as I observed the cashier wearing only one latex-free glove, the gal bagging our wearing a re-usable cloth mask and no gloves, then me taking off one of my sweaty gloves to sign the screen of the credit card reader (before sanitizing that hand with a little bottle of same in our truck). This is nuts!

I submit to you that overall the COVID-19 Pandemic is not bringing out the best in people yet. I am glad and grateful to see the goodness here and there. I do believe that most of us in our hearts are somewhere between survival mode and beast mode. We are struggling in our own strength to establish some sort of normal routine while living in the chaos. That is simply not possible yet. How can we do so when in the back of our minds we are wondering if we or our loved ones will be the star of that leaked YouTube video of the patient dying alone in an ICU bed or worse, packed in a black bag in the refrigerated truck parked outside the freight entrance of the hospital? Yes, this is way beyond nuts!

Experts tell us that the world here in the United States will get worse before it gets better. But probably in each of our own private spaces and places, there will be some nice things that will happen. Some loving and meaningful moments will be in the mix. But we must ask ourselves if that is enough? Is it enough to just survive the pandemic of year 2020 with a few GIFs and memes from Facebook in our minds? Or conversely do we throw up our hands, succumb to addiction (including stuffing ourselves with food) and say if we die, we die? I mean really, how does one cope when the world is going increasingly mad?

You go deeper Gentle Reader. You go deeper than asking how or why or when or where or who or what. You go deeper than the comfort of your own bed (if your are blessed to have one) and kitchen full of food (if you are blessed to have one). You ask yourself what life will be like 2 months from now when your housemates can’t stand each other anymore or your employer had to close its business after all, when the government goes bankrupt or the earth groans with the tragedy that actually didn’t take us all out. You ask yourself about the value of your own life and the ones you love and further, the very meaning of life itself.

I pray that it is sooner than later Gentle Reader, that you will go beyond the darkness of days to go deeper still. For it is then that we both will know without any doubt that we were never alone in all of this mess. There is a purpose and a plan. We will find a peace that transcends the mess of this world. This is not of ourselves such that no man may boast. We simply are not strong enough. All along the way the God of the universe is watching, waiting, listening, grieving, loving, and ready to see us through no matter what happens. It is for His design and glory that we live. Say what? How can I say this? I found the answers, the truth in His Word. I found that the Lord ordained supreme testing within a horrific illness I endured and battled over the past 8 years. And through it all, there was meaning and purpose. I was never alone. He was always there with me whether I felt His presence or not. And always there was peace beyond the strife. I escaped death more times than the 9 lives of Morris the cat; COVID-19 doesn’t change a thing whether I live or die. My eternal life that transcends the strife of this world began a long time ago.

The world simply will not, no never satisfy the groaning, the longing of our hearts. That place is for Jesus Christ alone. Want to explore this topic further? Go right now to the book of John. Find a Bible. And dwell amongst the pillars of the King who loves you so! Do it now before it is too late. JJ

I long for you

My intended beloved, oh man of my longing

How is it that these things come between you and me?

I lie next to your warmth, oh so ready to imbibe

Til the horror of illness keeps me far, far away once more.

Albeit evil it must be:  a test for my weary, so weary heart

You know my lord and my Lord that I do shake with grief so!

Perhaps just for a time, please wait for me love

I shall return soon when illness has gone one day, I promise, I do.

Until then know that you are the one for whom that my heart sings

The one who loves me so, beyond that which I can even wanton,

My knight in shining aluminum, we jest, but you are indeed more

And know me well, I love you too . . . this is all I need to know to live.

Our Jesus is out in front of us two leading us on

When darkness comes, oh here it is again, we shall not be moved;

Hold me as you are able or as my frame lets you in

Forever in my heart you know you will for always be with  me.

Solomon, 3:4, Christian, marriage, trials, chronic illness, sickness, intimacy, sexuality, wife, husband, Lyme, seizures

Hydration is Key

dehydrationHydration is key in health and down to the other

It makes everything better from one end to the other.

When I thought a drug might be my saving grace

I found that it was water that was my Lord’s gift of grace.

In 3 days and 2 nights 4,000 ml ran through my veins

In addition to many drugs in my tummy not my veins.

There was sparing of upsets from what I could not tolerate before

That number of drugs with Pepcid became my friend now like never b—–.

My Lord knew then showed my naturopathic Doc a few days later

That I would need to push fluids like never before for now and onto “later.”

So Smart Water and minerals in our Big Berkey will be my constant friend

When isolation of this Shingled hell keeps me from family and friends.

The Lord makes up the difference (as He always has) and grants me sleep

These last few days have been for rest and recovery and the deepest of sleep —

“To die, to sleep – to sleep, perchance to dream – ay, there’s the rub, for in this sleep of death what dreams may come…”

Hamlet does question if even death will bring dreams that will prevent peace when it comes.

But he is wrong for peace is granted here and now for those who believe no matter what may

For those who believe in the Lord who conquered death and knows the beginning from what may.

So once again, a thousand times I shall again proclaim

Alone in my Jesus I will drink the victory only He can proclaim!

************

If you are struggling this night, Gentle Reader, please hang in there.  Let me know your needs and I promise to pray as I lay your alms before our mighty Lord of Lords.  He cares for you, He cares for me.  And Lord willing, we are going to get well sometime between now and the day of His return.  Oh how I do hope you know Him this way?  JJ