I’ve been watching Cindy and Pauline suffer with pain for years.  Cindy’s current pain is due to the drain sticking out of her chest.  Pauline’s pain is in her knee and other parts of her body due to chronic illnesses.  Both of them has been prescribed pain killers.  Cindy gets Fentanyl every 2 hours and Hydrocodone in between if she needs it – which is often.  Pauline takes Oxycodone every four hours.  If they take the medication too often, they can overdose.  The pain killers temporarily keep the pain down.   Sometimes the only thing they can do is watch the clock until the magic pill is available to them.

Medical marijuana is available in about 20 states, California being one of them.  Both Cindy and Pauline have been using medical marijuana for years.  While Cindy is in the hospital, she cannot use it since it is not currently prescribed by doctors.  Pauline is at home and has access to marijuana buds, oils and edibles.  When the pain becomes too unbearable, she can find relief.

Before I left to go see Cindy in the hospital today, Pauline and I had an interesting discussion.   She wanted to know if I would use marijuana if I was in pain.  I don’t like to get high, stoned, drunk, etc.  I like being in control of my senses.  Sometimes I might have a drink to take the edge off when things get too rough, but it doesn’t take much and I’m done.  So when I answered yes, she was surprised.  I have seen the almost immediate relief it gives for pain, so I’m all for it.

I have to admit, when my stress level gets too much even for me, my immediate reaction is to have a drink to get rid of the emotional pain.  The first time Cindy had to be resuscitated, I watched the medical staff bring her back to life.  A doctor appeared, explained what happened and asked if she had a Do Not Resuscitate order.  Nothing made sense.  I turned to Rita and Mary but they were also in a daze.  After we knew that Cindy was okay, I said “Where’s the bar?”  It was 9 AM, but we all could have used a drink.  Rita and Mary and I have been discussing opening a concession stand in hospitals and selling shots.  Every time Cindy needs to be resuscitated – and it’s been too often – we keep looking for the bar.

The nursing home where my parents were had Happy Hour on Friday afternoons.  The visitors were able to have a glass of wine.  The patients couldn’t have alcohol because they were on medication.  Some patients said they would prefer to have a scotch instead of their meds.  In some circumstances, I think that would be a great idea.

Anyone have any opinions?  I’d love to hear them.

Yesterday was more of the same for both Cindy and Pauline. Cindy is still in the hospital being drained. Her Pulmonary doctor left on vacation for a week, making her very nervous not to have him around. .medication throughout the day.

A couple of days ago, I decided to go to my doctor to get a checkup – now that I had the time.  With all the stress in my life, I wanted to make sure that I was healthy, especially stress-wise. My grandmother had high blood pressure and my mother died from a stroke. I didn’t want to take any chances during this time. In fact, it was eight years ago today that I got a call from my neighbor, saying that the police had followed her home because she was driving erratically. I spoke to her for a few minutes, asking her how she was and what happened. She could only say that she was okay. I told her to go to the hospital – which she did, surprisingly.   That was the last time I had a real conversation with my mother. She slowly slipped away. Seventy days later she died.

A friend of my mother’s told me that my mother had been on high blood pressure medication, but stopped taking it because she didn’t like the way it made her feel. Six months earlier, I convinced my mother to put my father into a nursing home for his Alzheimer’s. Before that she had spent years taking care of my father by herself. My mother wasn’t sleeping or taking care of herself. She had no idea how to deal with stress.

I’ve learned how to take care of myself while everything around me is falling apart. It’s just when life gets intensely insane and the anxiety goes into overdrive that I want some insurance. The doctor prescribed Zestril. After one day of taking it, I’m still standing.

Cindy has started eating thick liquids and soft foods such as pudding and milkshakes.  Some didn’t stay down too well early this morning.  It is possible that her stomach is still readjusting to life in the abdominal cavity.

Today, Chef Rita made scrambled eggs for breakfast, tuna for lunch, and home made beef broth with real beef in a crock pot for dinner.  So far, everything is staying down just fine.

If you would like to review Cindy’s journey to now, you can read the last few posts on this blog and find the posts from previous years at Cindy’s Status.