The dance of anger
Some days just don’t jive as well as others. We had such a morning, but luckily our lunch date put us back on track. It started off early this morning; I looked at Dr. Garoufalis’ prescription and the third item was familiar; we filled the order for Stemetil last week. I knew I had to solve the mystery later today. I thought they prescribed anti-seizure medication, but it was not there. Sherlock was on the case.
I dropped Gilly at the Jewish and went to park. I asked him where to meet, since Sheryl had taken him to the last mask ordeal a few weeks back. He told me the second floor. As soon as I entered the hospital, I asked where the final fittings for a radiation mask would take place and was directed downstairs to the basement. Gilly was nowhere to be found. I searched the second floor, but he had found his way down to the basement by then. We took different routes. Got some exercise, and his plan to give me the slip failed.
While Gilly was taken in for the final fitting, I had a chance to meet Vigit You, his nurse. So lovely. Very astute and efficiently thorough in her approach. I told her about the rash Gilly developed after the last CT scan (after the mask building). She insisted that I remember to mention his reaction to the dye (Isovue-300) each and every time he goes for a test where they use the term ‘contrast.’ He may or may not be allergic, but they will not take a chance.
I brought up the episode he had on Sunday evening. I wondered what a seizure might look like (because Maria the nurse said perhaps he was having one), and what should I do next time. She was very alarmed, and stated emphatically that if he refuses to cooperate, call 911. He may have been having a stroke. Who knows at this point?
She provided me with symptoms of different types of seizures, which jogged my memory of First Aid courses I’d taken over the years. The review was useful and I’m now better prepared. Why did I not recall this information at the time? Fear took over, perhaps.
Vigit later called Gilly into her office and sternly informed him of what she told me to do next time I am concerned. She begged him to cooperate with me from here on in. He grinned and agreed to her request. Until next time….!
I mentioned the discrepancy with the prescription, and I questioned why there is prescription for anti-seizure medication if Maria believed he may have had one. She asked us to wait a while, and went to investigate further. Gilly became quite agitated at this point, annoyed with me for extending our stay. I cannot say I blame him, but the bird was in hand and I wasn’t giving up until I had firm answers.
She located Dr. Sultanem, who prescribed the anti-seizure medication and also admitted that he should be examined by a neurologist. He has thus far not been seen by one. Dr. Mohr is a neurosurgeon, and Dr. Wise is a neuro-ophthalmologist (the spell check insists there’s an ‘l’ in there. New to me. Guess I’ve been spelling it incorrectly up to now). Perhaps a new specialist will join the troupe??? I found out later that afternoon that only a neurologist or neurosurgeon would prescribe Dilantin.
Gilly was visibly annoyed at the length of time we ended up in the waiting room because of my question(s). I was ticked off at him, because I perceived him as a negative force working against my good intentions. I was getting fed up with his ‘high eyes’ when I attempted to explain the importance of my questions. Again, he accused me, “You dramatize everything.”
The Dance of Anger. Anger is often a symptom of unmet needs. This morning, I felt angered by Gilly’s reactions to my persistence. He seemingly considered my input as ‘meddling.’ I needed him to show appreciation for my efforts as his loving advocate; to believe that I’m not purposefully making his life miserable. In fact, I’m trying with every fiber of my being to preserve it.
I was honest, and spoke my piece. I admitted that I need his support too. it works both ways. He immediately accepted my expression of anger as legitimate, and empathized with my frustration. I was able to regain my composure. We met Sharon and Rosanne for lunch, and left feeling much lighter. Good food and great friends; a healing combination.
So, here’s Gilly medication list: Zofran as an anti-nausea one half hour before Temodal, once every evening beginning Sunday: Stemetil as needed (which was the item Dr. Goufalis had on the list that I questioned. It turned out to be an error, by the way, but no biggy. Dr. Kavan simply forgot he had already asked us to get it): Decadron (a steroid) to reduce and / or prevent swelling (maybe both. I’m not 100% sure) is now taken twice daily. It also helps to reduce nausea, I was told this afternoon: To counteract the stomach ulcers which conceivably may be caused by Decadron, he takes Panteloc once daily: Three times a day, he has Dilantin, the anti-seizure medication. And let’s not forget the Folic acid once a day for the Vitamin deficiency. So the pill dispenser is full to the brim and very colourful. Gilly repeatedly questions, “Why am I taking all these pills again?”
While placing the pills in the dispenser, I noticed that there was an R2 in the top right hand corner of the empty anti-seizure medication bottle from a few weeks back. On the new bottle, I saw R 3. It clicked; Hello! R means repeat!!! Could I have put Gilly at risk for the last few weeks by not repeating his anti-seizure medication? I never noticed that symbol before, and so I did not get the pharmacy to repeat it. The Decadron was slowly tapered (they told me that specifically), but I was under the assumption that when the anti-seizure pills were done, they were done. I’m not sure we can afford too many more 'lessons learned'. What an error! I’ll lose sleep over that one tonight, I assure you.
Does this man have a right to be angry? How could he not feel like blowing his top? But he really doesn’t. He’s sweet and gentle, forgiving and loving. We chalked today up as experience, and lapped up Randee’s delectable stir fry. It was a happy ending to a stressful day.
I dropped Gilly at the Jewish and went to park. I asked him where to meet, since Sheryl had taken him to the last mask ordeal a few weeks back. He told me the second floor. As soon as I entered the hospital, I asked where the final fittings for a radiation mask would take place and was directed downstairs to the basement. Gilly was nowhere to be found. I searched the second floor, but he had found his way down to the basement by then. We took different routes. Got some exercise, and his plan to give me the slip failed.
While Gilly was taken in for the final fitting, I had a chance to meet Vigit You, his nurse. So lovely. Very astute and efficiently thorough in her approach. I told her about the rash Gilly developed after the last CT scan (after the mask building). She insisted that I remember to mention his reaction to the dye (Isovue-300) each and every time he goes for a test where they use the term ‘contrast.’ He may or may not be allergic, but they will not take a chance.
I brought up the episode he had on Sunday evening. I wondered what a seizure might look like (because Maria the nurse said perhaps he was having one), and what should I do next time. She was very alarmed, and stated emphatically that if he refuses to cooperate, call 911. He may have been having a stroke. Who knows at this point?
She provided me with symptoms of different types of seizures, which jogged my memory of First Aid courses I’d taken over the years. The review was useful and I’m now better prepared. Why did I not recall this information at the time? Fear took over, perhaps.
Vigit later called Gilly into her office and sternly informed him of what she told me to do next time I am concerned. She begged him to cooperate with me from here on in. He grinned and agreed to her request. Until next time….!
I mentioned the discrepancy with the prescription, and I questioned why there is prescription for anti-seizure medication if Maria believed he may have had one. She asked us to wait a while, and went to investigate further. Gilly became quite agitated at this point, annoyed with me for extending our stay. I cannot say I blame him, but the bird was in hand and I wasn’t giving up until I had firm answers.
She located Dr. Sultanem, who prescribed the anti-seizure medication and also admitted that he should be examined by a neurologist. He has thus far not been seen by one. Dr. Mohr is a neurosurgeon, and Dr. Wise is a neuro-ophthalmologist (the spell check insists there’s an ‘l’ in there. New to me. Guess I’ve been spelling it incorrectly up to now). Perhaps a new specialist will join the troupe??? I found out later that afternoon that only a neurologist or neurosurgeon would prescribe Dilantin.
Gilly was visibly annoyed at the length of time we ended up in the waiting room because of my question(s). I was ticked off at him, because I perceived him as a negative force working against my good intentions. I was getting fed up with his ‘high eyes’ when I attempted to explain the importance of my questions. Again, he accused me, “You dramatize everything.”
The Dance of Anger. Anger is often a symptom of unmet needs. This morning, I felt angered by Gilly’s reactions to my persistence. He seemingly considered my input as ‘meddling.’ I needed him to show appreciation for my efforts as his loving advocate; to believe that I’m not purposefully making his life miserable. In fact, I’m trying with every fiber of my being to preserve it.
I was honest, and spoke my piece. I admitted that I need his support too. it works both ways. He immediately accepted my expression of anger as legitimate, and empathized with my frustration. I was able to regain my composure. We met Sharon and Rosanne for lunch, and left feeling much lighter. Good food and great friends; a healing combination.
So, here’s Gilly medication list: Zofran as an anti-nausea one half hour before Temodal, once every evening beginning Sunday: Stemetil as needed (which was the item Dr. Goufalis had on the list that I questioned. It turned out to be an error, by the way, but no biggy. Dr. Kavan simply forgot he had already asked us to get it): Decadron (a steroid) to reduce and / or prevent swelling (maybe both. I’m not 100% sure) is now taken twice daily. It also helps to reduce nausea, I was told this afternoon: To counteract the stomach ulcers which conceivably may be caused by Decadron, he takes Panteloc once daily: Three times a day, he has Dilantin, the anti-seizure medication. And let’s not forget the Folic acid once a day for the Vitamin deficiency. So the pill dispenser is full to the brim and very colourful. Gilly repeatedly questions, “Why am I taking all these pills again?”
While placing the pills in the dispenser, I noticed that there was an R2 in the top right hand corner of the empty anti-seizure medication bottle from a few weeks back. On the new bottle, I saw R 3. It clicked; Hello! R means repeat!!! Could I have put Gilly at risk for the last few weeks by not repeating his anti-seizure medication? I never noticed that symbol before, and so I did not get the pharmacy to repeat it. The Decadron was slowly tapered (they told me that specifically), but I was under the assumption that when the anti-seizure pills were done, they were done. I’m not sure we can afford too many more 'lessons learned'. What an error! I’ll lose sleep over that one tonight, I assure you.
Does this man have a right to be angry? How could he not feel like blowing his top? But he really doesn’t. He’s sweet and gentle, forgiving and loving. We chalked today up as experience, and lapped up Randee’s delectable stir fry. It was a happy ending to a stressful day.
posted by Gilly at 8:46 PM
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