Well friends, today I completed part 1 (of 2) of my allergy and venom testing. Today was just venom and tested the severity of my bee, wasp and hornet allergy. As I've mentioned before, I've been getting venom therapy injections for the last five years. While it appears that the injections have screwed with my vascular system, it would be nice to know that they were at least a bit effective in diminishing my allergy as well.
For those of you who have been blessed to never endure allergy testing, allow me to explain. Typically a tiny amount of an allergen is dropped onto your skin, and then the skin is either pricked with a needle or injected just under the outermost skin layer. The size of the bump (hive) and overall reaction (flare) are used to rate your allergy. I personally think the flare should be spelled "flair" as it was just another way that Mayo has decorated my body- today with bright, red, amoeba-shaped splotches.With bee, wasp and hornet testing, the nurse starts with an extremely low dose, then moves up a level and then one level more. Currently, my right arm looks like I have an extremely organized and localized case of chicken pox.
The bad news? I'm still allergic to bees, wasps and hornets. However it is still possible that the allergy has at least decreased a bit (have to wait until I meet with the doctor next week). Perhaps I'll need to bedazzle my epi pen if it is going to stick around.
The good news? I'm not allergic to honey bees. Yippee Skippee. So if I decide to switch careers and raise honey bees, then I am SET. Thankgoodness.
This afternoon, I went standby at the Pain Rehabilitation Center. The PRC is mostly for people with chronic pain, be it back pain, migraines, fibromyalgia, etc. But it is also for people who are learning to rehabilitate their lives after a diagnosis (or in my case, multiple diagnoses) has turned their lives upside down. The beauty of learning to retrain my brain here, is that I would be under the care of a doctor, dietitian, physical therapist and behavior medicine therapist all in one place. At home, I can certainly find people to fit all of these roles, but not in an organized setting where they all communicate and work together. Seeing as it would mean spending more time in Minnesota, I'm guessing "freeze therapy" will be incorporated into my rehabilitation.
The only rock in the canoe is (prepare for a shocker here), I am exceptionally unique. The PRC has never had a patient quite like me...and they need to make sure they can properly accommodate my fame. For example, one element of the PRC is finding ways to get patients off of pain medicine...which clealy doesn't apply to someone who can't even take advil.
So I met with the head of the department (duh, when you are a celebrity, you jump right to the top) and it was a fabulous meeting. I felt heard and I felt uplifted. While I know a lot about nutrition and am absolutely, positively determined to get well, I haven't the first clue of where to begin. The department head is going to talk to the head physican and the appointment coordinator (who, like most places, is actually the true boss) and see if they can both accept me and design a program that would work just for me. Keep your fingers crossed friends!
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Monday, January 30, 2012
Roll out the red carpet!
Well friends, my fame grew even greater today. No, I did not turn a new color or confuse any new doctors, but I did become a part of legit medical history! The Mayo Clinic has been working on developing a new SmartPill test for GI motility and today, I was the very first person EVER to try it out. Literally, I drew a crowd. No big deal.
Some of you may have heard of a capsule study that involves swallowing an itty-bitty camera and looking at the beautiful images once you pass the pill. This new SmartPill measures the pH, pressure and temperature changes of your GI system as the capsule goes through your body and in doing so, they are able to pinpoint the exact location of an issue and what changes are occurring internally at the time. Pretty genius, huh? The signals are recorded on a pager that looks like a Zack Morris flip phone from the 80's...try to contain your jealousy.
The first thing I had to do was eat a SmartBar...so of course I asked if my IQ was going to rise...still waiting for an answer. I was pretty excited because the bar looked like a deflated and mangled power bar, but actually tasted pretty good! The next task was harder...swallowing a robot the size of a thick bullet (and when I say robot, I'm literally not kidding. You could even see the microchip). Those of you who have known me for awhile know that I spent most of my high school years learning to swallow a pill...but nothing could have prepared me for the big kahuna of today. A couple of gags and horrified looks from my growing crowd later, the robot had headed South and begun his journey through the vast expanse of my hot mess self. My crowd clapped, I gave a few dazzling grins with princess waves and that was it! So in a nutshell, I'm basically a genius now.
This afternoon I met with Behavioral Medicine. This is the first step towards recovery, so I've been anxiously awaiting the start...let's rip this band aid off and get crackin! If by "get crackin" I meant, "let's chat about some options that we will use if the following 10 doctors sign off on it" then we are on the same page now. Fiiiiine. I'll be patient.
In actuality, the appointment went really well. I met with a doctor and nurse combo from 1:00-4:00 and they went over everything. My brain boot camp will include a cocktail of drugs to decrease the severity of the reactions in my brain, in addition to some overall rehabilitation of my system-i.e. physical therapy for my veins, painfully slow introduction of foods, etc. Imagine if you were speeding out of control down the highway and then tried to suddenly throw the car in reverse...it wouldn't go so well. First you have to slow the car down and then you can slowly start to reverse. Phase 1 will be slowing down the reactions in my brain (don't worry, this won't diminish the vast increase in intellect that I added today). Our bodies are amazing places and when we are healthy, our systems work together seamlessly. In my case, my systems don't really work so well together right now and they need a bit of mediation. My brain, in this case, is the mischief maker. For example, when you stand up too quickly and your heart races, eventually your brain signals your body to slow down your heart rate. For me, my brain takes every opportunity to be an amplifier and riles things up, instead of settling things down. My radio volume is on too loud and the radio is playing a song, without even receiving a signal (although, I do appreciate my body's desire to sing).
Phase 1 is going to take a long time. I'm not talking days, or really even months. This is most likely in the year+ category, because my hypersensitivity extends to pharmaceuticals as well (this weekend I learned that Viagra and I will not be wearing any BFF necklaces). It is going to take a long time to find a type and dosage of drugs that I'm a) not allergic to, b) don't pick up any bizarre side effects to and c) is actually effective. Details, details.
In the mean time, my intellect and fame are growing exponentially...the way I figure, soon enough I'll be so ridiculously smart and famous that I can retrain my brain all on my own. Pack the trail mix, this hike is totally in the bag.
Some of you may have heard of a capsule study that involves swallowing an itty-bitty camera and looking at the beautiful images once you pass the pill. This new SmartPill measures the pH, pressure and temperature changes of your GI system as the capsule goes through your body and in doing so, they are able to pinpoint the exact location of an issue and what changes are occurring internally at the time. Pretty genius, huh? The signals are recorded on a pager that looks like a Zack Morris flip phone from the 80's...try to contain your jealousy.
The first thing I had to do was eat a SmartBar...so of course I asked if my IQ was going to rise...still waiting for an answer. I was pretty excited because the bar looked like a deflated and mangled power bar, but actually tasted pretty good! The next task was harder...swallowing a robot the size of a thick bullet (and when I say robot, I'm literally not kidding. You could even see the microchip). Those of you who have known me for awhile know that I spent most of my high school years learning to swallow a pill...but nothing could have prepared me for the big kahuna of today. A couple of gags and horrified looks from my growing crowd later, the robot had headed South and begun his journey through the vast expanse of my hot mess self. My crowd clapped, I gave a few dazzling grins with princess waves and that was it! So in a nutshell, I'm basically a genius now.
This afternoon I met with Behavioral Medicine. This is the first step towards recovery, so I've been anxiously awaiting the start...let's rip this band aid off and get crackin! If by "get crackin" I meant, "let's chat about some options that we will use if the following 10 doctors sign off on it" then we are on the same page now. Fiiiiine. I'll be patient.
In actuality, the appointment went really well. I met with a doctor and nurse combo from 1:00-4:00 and they went over everything. My brain boot camp will include a cocktail of drugs to decrease the severity of the reactions in my brain, in addition to some overall rehabilitation of my system-i.e. physical therapy for my veins, painfully slow introduction of foods, etc. Imagine if you were speeding out of control down the highway and then tried to suddenly throw the car in reverse...it wouldn't go so well. First you have to slow the car down and then you can slowly start to reverse. Phase 1 will be slowing down the reactions in my brain (don't worry, this won't diminish the vast increase in intellect that I added today). Our bodies are amazing places and when we are healthy, our systems work together seamlessly. In my case, my systems don't really work so well together right now and they need a bit of mediation. My brain, in this case, is the mischief maker. For example, when you stand up too quickly and your heart races, eventually your brain signals your body to slow down your heart rate. For me, my brain takes every opportunity to be an amplifier and riles things up, instead of settling things down. My radio volume is on too loud and the radio is playing a song, without even receiving a signal (although, I do appreciate my body's desire to sing).
Phase 1 is going to take a long time. I'm not talking days, or really even months. This is most likely in the year+ category, because my hypersensitivity extends to pharmaceuticals as well (this weekend I learned that Viagra and I will not be wearing any BFF necklaces). It is going to take a long time to find a type and dosage of drugs that I'm a) not allergic to, b) don't pick up any bizarre side effects to and c) is actually effective. Details, details.
In the mean time, my intellect and fame are growing exponentially...the way I figure, soon enough I'll be so ridiculously smart and famous that I can retrain my brain all on my own. Pack the trail mix, this hike is totally in the bag.
Friday, January 27, 2012
Earning my A's and B's
Today was a pretty low-key day. Around here, you can be a "checker," or as I call it, "go standby" on future appointments. I tried to go standby this morning and was unsuccessful. I did however, succeed in making enough progress on my cross-stitch that it is starting to resemble more than an amoeba and I got some excellent people watching accomplished, as I was in the waiting room with a family of 13 kids (who all met with a doctor, one by one).
Next I went back to the Ultraviolet Light Treatment center for my results from yesterday's Minimal Erythema Dose test. My left leg hadn't changed colors at all, which indicates that I am not hypersensitive to ultraviolet B rays. You can, however, play an organized game of checkers on my right leg, which indicates that I am hypersensitive to ultraviolet A rays. So where does that leave me? Frantically trying to invent some sort of protective sunscreen that only blocks UVA rays...I'll let you know how it goes. Has anyone else noticed that Mayo seems really dedicated to turning me every color possible? Maybe they sense my inner studio art major...
In the meantime, my internist, vascular doctor (vasculist?) and rheumatologist all decided that they want me to try Viagra, in additional to my fancy new arterioflow pump. One of the many fabulous things about Mayo is that the pharmacy will let you fill just a few days and then come back if you decide you want more...a perfect situation for someone who finds fabulously colorful side effects to most drugs. The dear pharmacy techs at Mayo are extremely professional and dedicated and they follow protocol to a T.
Exhibit A:
Tech: "OK, Mrs. Buschenfeldt, is this a new prescription?"
Me: "Yes."
Tech: "Now let's see, this is for...oh...um...Viagra."
Me: "Yeaaa, it's to dilate my blood vessels. Can you tell me about the side effects? I'm pretty sensitive."
Tech: "Ok well, um, it's very important that you read this. [points emphatically to paperwork]. This medicine is usually taken about an hour before sexual activity. If you miss a dose of this medicine and you still intend to engage in sexual activity, take it as soon as you remember. Serious side effects are rare, but seek medical attention right away for a serious allergic reaction, drop in blood pressure or...um...a painful or prolonged erection. [awkward pause] Any questions?"
Me: "Um no, I think that about covers it. Have a great weekend."
Next I went back to the Ultraviolet Light Treatment center for my results from yesterday's Minimal Erythema Dose test. My left leg hadn't changed colors at all, which indicates that I am not hypersensitive to ultraviolet B rays. You can, however, play an organized game of checkers on my right leg, which indicates that I am hypersensitive to ultraviolet A rays. So where does that leave me? Frantically trying to invent some sort of protective sunscreen that only blocks UVA rays...I'll let you know how it goes. Has anyone else noticed that Mayo seems really dedicated to turning me every color possible? Maybe they sense my inner studio art major...
In the meantime, my internist, vascular doctor (vasculist?) and rheumatologist all decided that they want me to try Viagra, in additional to my fancy new arterioflow pump. One of the many fabulous things about Mayo is that the pharmacy will let you fill just a few days and then come back if you decide you want more...a perfect situation for someone who finds fabulously colorful side effects to most drugs. The dear pharmacy techs at Mayo are extremely professional and dedicated and they follow protocol to a T.
Exhibit A:
Tech: "OK, Mrs. Buschenfeldt, is this a new prescription?"
Me: "Yes."
Tech: "Now let's see, this is for...oh...um...Viagra."
Me: "Yeaaa, it's to dilate my blood vessels. Can you tell me about the side effects? I'm pretty sensitive."
Tech: "Ok well, um, it's very important that you read this. [points emphatically to paperwork]. This medicine is usually taken about an hour before sexual activity. If you miss a dose of this medicine and you still intend to engage in sexual activity, take it as soon as you remember. Serious side effects are rare, but seek medical attention right away for a serious allergic reaction, drop in blood pressure or...um...a painful or prolonged erection. [awkward pause] Any questions?"
Me: "Um no, I think that about covers it. Have a great weekend."
Thursday, January 26, 2012
Adding a little color
Today I did an Ultraviolet Light Test to measure my skin's sensitivity to sunlight. Typically after spending time in the sun, my body looks at my skin as a canvas and decides to decorate. No matter how meticulously I apply and reapply SPF 80 sunscreen, I end up looking tie-dye (and like a sunscreen idiot)by the end of the day. As the president of Pale America, my skin responds to everything and the dermatologist thought we should investigate a little bit further. When I go to the allergy/immunology department next week, we need to know what is a skin reaction and what is an allergy...or if it is both. Don't doubt me people. Apparently my crazy vasomotor instability (the inability for my veins to pump at a steady rate...or frankly, a rate at all) with my blood, also affects my skin and I only show one extreme or the other. I mean, I've always been an "all or nothing" kid, so it's only logical that my skin should follow suit, right?
Currently my legs look like this:
My left leg was exposed to ultraviolet B rays for certain amounts of time (hence the squares) and then the reaction is followed for 24 hours. My right leg was exposed to ultraviolet A rays and is followed a little bit longer. Want to guess which one penetrates further into your skin? For all of you fancypants out there, this test is called minimal erythema dose (MED), which basically means they expose your skin to the lowest amount of ultraviolet light possible to see how it reacts. It was really rough to endure. I had to lie on a comfy bed with a heat lamp over my skin. I had to lie there for an hour. Tough stuff.
Bets on whether or not I'm going to end up with checkerboard tan lines on my thighs? Good thing it's the winter...in Rochester...where I don't go outside for days.
In other news, I had another meeting with my internist and we are definitely making progress. There are still lots of future and treatment questions, but we are checking things of the virtual list. I'm a teacher after all, you know how much I love a good color-coded list.
Currently my legs look like this:
My left leg was exposed to ultraviolet B rays for certain amounts of time (hence the squares) and then the reaction is followed for 24 hours. My right leg was exposed to ultraviolet A rays and is followed a little bit longer. Want to guess which one penetrates further into your skin? For all of you fancypants out there, this test is called minimal erythema dose (MED), which basically means they expose your skin to the lowest amount of ultraviolet light possible to see how it reacts. It was really rough to endure. I had to lie on a comfy bed with a heat lamp over my skin. I had to lie there for an hour. Tough stuff.
Bets on whether or not I'm going to end up with checkerboard tan lines on my thighs? Good thing it's the winter...in Rochester...where I don't go outside for days.
In other news, I had another meeting with my internist and we are definitely making progress. There are still lots of future and treatment questions, but we are checking things of the virtual list. I'm a teacher after all, you know how much I love a good color-coded list.
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
Charlie Brown said it best...oh good grief!
Well friends, I should have seen it coming. This whole time I hadn't said a thing about a departure date and as soon as I did...I jinxed it! This morning I got a phone call from GI asking me to stop by for a new schedule. Now mind you, I shook hands with my GI doc last Thursday after a great appointment, there were smiles, "nice to meet you"s, "best of luck", yadda yadda yadda. So a new schedule only meant one thing...more tests. Sure enough, my GI had done some more thinking, spoke with some motility specialists and wants to investigate my small intestine further. My first question, of course, was whether or not I still don't have gastroparesis...which I'm sure my GI could have answered if he wasn't soaking up some rays at a conference in Hawaii.
For the record, he is my third doctor to "go to a conference in Hawaii" in the last two weeks. I'm thinking that is code for "Mayo Clinic party in the sun!" Seeing as I pretty much work here, I think I should have been invited! Harsh. Although I do appreciate that he is lying in the sand, enjoying a tropical drink...and thinking about my small intestine. What could be better?
Anyway, I'm glad my doctor wants to be extra thorough, I just wish it didn't mean that I'd have to stay longer. In case I wasn't accessorized, radioactive and extra-special enough, I'm going to be swallowing a robot for this test. It's a brand new procedure created by the Mayo Clinic themselves. Yes, a robot. Just call me Bionic Girl.
Speaking of accessories, I was headline news in the bling department this afternoon. My doctors ordered a stress test with oxygen consumption which turned out to be code for bionic runt elephant on a treadmill. First they strapped 8 electrodes to my body, all with wires attached. Next I wore a belt around my hips with additional wires. They strapped a pulse monitor headband to my forehead and as the icing on the cake, strapped an oxygen mask over my face, with a giant elephant trunk tube sticking out front and connecting to a machine. I looked HOT. In fact, I'm a little bummed out that I missed the opportunity to wear this outfit to prom. I'm sure many of you won't be surprised to know that secretly I was excited about this test because I thought I'd get to run (something that has been on the "don't you dare!" list since I lost 30 pounds). Alas, alack, it was incredibly hard to breathe as an elephant and because my BP was 80/55, they only let me walk really fast on a really tall incline. I tried to tell them that if I'm going to walk up a really tall incline, it had better be on the side of a mountain but they didn't start packing their equipment to head to the Shenandoah Valley. They are really missing out.
On the plus side, the frozen yogurt stand has non-fat cherry now and I've been here so long that my hotel rate went down for the 3rd time. Simple pleasures, right?
For the record, he is my third doctor to "go to a conference in Hawaii" in the last two weeks. I'm thinking that is code for "Mayo Clinic party in the sun!" Seeing as I pretty much work here, I think I should have been invited! Harsh. Although I do appreciate that he is lying in the sand, enjoying a tropical drink...and thinking about my small intestine. What could be better?
Anyway, I'm glad my doctor wants to be extra thorough, I just wish it didn't mean that I'd have to stay longer. In case I wasn't accessorized, radioactive and extra-special enough, I'm going to be swallowing a robot for this test. It's a brand new procedure created by the Mayo Clinic themselves. Yes, a robot. Just call me Bionic Girl.
Speaking of accessories, I was headline news in the bling department this afternoon. My doctors ordered a stress test with oxygen consumption which turned out to be code for bionic runt elephant on a treadmill. First they strapped 8 electrodes to my body, all with wires attached. Next I wore a belt around my hips with additional wires. They strapped a pulse monitor headband to my forehead and as the icing on the cake, strapped an oxygen mask over my face, with a giant elephant trunk tube sticking out front and connecting to a machine. I looked HOT. In fact, I'm a little bummed out that I missed the opportunity to wear this outfit to prom. I'm sure many of you won't be surprised to know that secretly I was excited about this test because I thought I'd get to run (something that has been on the "don't you dare!" list since I lost 30 pounds). Alas, alack, it was incredibly hard to breathe as an elephant and because my BP was 80/55, they only let me walk really fast on a really tall incline. I tried to tell them that if I'm going to walk up a really tall incline, it had better be on the side of a mountain but they didn't start packing their equipment to head to the Shenandoah Valley. They are really missing out.
On the plus side, the frozen yogurt stand has non-fat cherry now and I've been here so long that my hotel rate went down for the 3rd time. Simple pleasures, right?
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
Adding to my bling
Today started out with a visit to the Vascular Center. I was the youngest person in the waiting room by at least 30 years...try to contain your jealousy. I met with a cardiovascular doctor, who just happens to be the head of the department (they forgot my red carpet, but I'll let it slide just this once). The doctor took copious notes on my symptoms, did a brief examination and then sent me out for some vascular testing. The vascular techs took the blood pressure and temperature of each of my digits with a very miniature blood pressure cuff, waved an ultrasound up and down my arms to check for blood flow, stuck my hands in a heat box and then walked out of the room. I was given strict instructions to stay put and warm up. That I can do!
So I hung out with my hands in a heat box for ten minutes, at which point the techs came back and decided that the normal amount of wait time wasn't sufficient, so I roasted for another ten minutes. Afterwards, the techs took my blood pressure and temperatures again and compared the pressures and temperatures to my "normal" body temperature. Here's a shocker, my blood doesn't flow very well!
I met with the doctor again after the tests and he has several theories. I clearly have insufficient blood flow to the extremities, exacerbated by the already present Raynaud's disease. Why? All goes back to our good friend, the mystery virus. A year and a half ago, my little darlings at school shared their Parvo Virus (Fifths Disease) with me and I was pretty darn sick (bless their hearts, they share so well). Kids just get very red cheeks, but adults get thrown to the curb. Disclaimer: 98% of adults are immune to fifths, so don't panic, unless you are also a hot mess...and work with kids...and are extra special...and likely are named Lydia. Apparently Parvo can stay in your body for a long time, and there are several studies in the works at Mayo about how Parvo can affect the vascular system.
Another theory? Bees. I'm terribly allergic to bees, wasps and hornets and have been getting bee venom therapy shots for about 5 years. Venom therapy gradually introduces your body to the allergens over time, in hopes of raising your immunity. There is a good chance that these miniature allergy attacks every few weeks have built up tissue and screwed with my blood flow even more. What a buzzzzzzkill.
So. What to do? I've already tried all of the medicine options, except for my shocker of a friend Cialis/Viagra, and based on my history...I'll probably find some rare side effect to pull out of those. Plus the likelihood of my insurance willingly paying for Cialis for a 28 year old female, are pretty slim. The doctor looked at my notes, noted my current accessories and decided that I just simply do not have enough bling! I am a celebrity after all, and I need to look my best and most accessorized at all times. Introducing, the Arterial Flow Pump. Thank goodness these doctors are great stylists.
The doctor described the pump as two blood pressure-like cuffs that you wear on your arms and squeezes the blood down into your hands every couple of minutes. People usually use this for increasing blood flow to a wound, but it is sometimes used for vaso-spastic blood flow (arteries/veins that spasm). So I'm thinking, ok, two cuffs and a little tiny machine that I stick in my pocket.
Introducing, my new bling:
And yes, my friends, that doesn't even show the cuffs. I guess this is the medical bling equivalent to the chunky necklace? My husband is such a lucky man.
A few hours later, I showed up for my pump training:
"Oh hi! Is Mrs. Buschenfeldt in the bathroom?"
"Oh, actually I'm Mrs. Buschenfeldt."
"OH MY GOSH! No way! You are my youngest patient EVER!!!!"
Score.
In other very exciting news, I have a tentative departure date! As of today it looks like I will fly home on February 4th or 5th! Keep those fingers crossed...and I'll lend you my arterial flow pump if you happen to cut off your circulation in the process.
So I hung out with my hands in a heat box for ten minutes, at which point the techs came back and decided that the normal amount of wait time wasn't sufficient, so I roasted for another ten minutes. Afterwards, the techs took my blood pressure and temperatures again and compared the pressures and temperatures to my "normal" body temperature. Here's a shocker, my blood doesn't flow very well!
I met with the doctor again after the tests and he has several theories. I clearly have insufficient blood flow to the extremities, exacerbated by the already present Raynaud's disease. Why? All goes back to our good friend, the mystery virus. A year and a half ago, my little darlings at school shared their Parvo Virus (Fifths Disease) with me and I was pretty darn sick (bless their hearts, they share so well). Kids just get very red cheeks, but adults get thrown to the curb. Disclaimer: 98% of adults are immune to fifths, so don't panic, unless you are also a hot mess...and work with kids...and are extra special...and likely are named Lydia. Apparently Parvo can stay in your body for a long time, and there are several studies in the works at Mayo about how Parvo can affect the vascular system.
Another theory? Bees. I'm terribly allergic to bees, wasps and hornets and have been getting bee venom therapy shots for about 5 years. Venom therapy gradually introduces your body to the allergens over time, in hopes of raising your immunity. There is a good chance that these miniature allergy attacks every few weeks have built up tissue and screwed with my blood flow even more. What a buzzzzzzkill.
So. What to do? I've already tried all of the medicine options, except for my shocker of a friend Cialis/Viagra, and based on my history...I'll probably find some rare side effect to pull out of those. Plus the likelihood of my insurance willingly paying for Cialis for a 28 year old female, are pretty slim. The doctor looked at my notes, noted my current accessories and decided that I just simply do not have enough bling! I am a celebrity after all, and I need to look my best and most accessorized at all times. Introducing, the Arterial Flow Pump. Thank goodness these doctors are great stylists.
The doctor described the pump as two blood pressure-like cuffs that you wear on your arms and squeezes the blood down into your hands every couple of minutes. People usually use this for increasing blood flow to a wound, but it is sometimes used for vaso-spastic blood flow (arteries/veins that spasm). So I'm thinking, ok, two cuffs and a little tiny machine that I stick in my pocket.
Introducing, my new bling:
And yes, my friends, that doesn't even show the cuffs. I guess this is the medical bling equivalent to the chunky necklace? My husband is such a lucky man.
A few hours later, I showed up for my pump training:
"Oh hi! Is Mrs. Buschenfeldt in the bathroom?"
"Oh, actually I'm Mrs. Buschenfeldt."
"OH MY GOSH! No way! You are my youngest patient EVER!!!!"
Score.
In other very exciting news, I have a tentative departure date! As of today it looks like I will fly home on February 4th or 5th! Keep those fingers crossed...and I'll lend you my arterial flow pump if you happen to cut off your circulation in the process.
Monday, January 23, 2012
Week #3 at Mayo
Today I had surgery to get a new feeding tube and repair the stoma (hole) for the tube. I'm kind of a celebrity on the 8th floor of the Charlton Building, so I got to greet my followers throughout the morning. Some thoughts from my fans...
1. "Hey! Welcome back! I heard that you got a PICC line, thank goodness!"
2. "Oh hey, are you that girl that they gave too much versed (sedative) last week? I heard about you!"
3. "Lydia, you are back again! I'll make sure we put some extra blankets in the warmer." (clearly this nurse is AWESOME)
4. "So you are aware that using the heat tool on your skin is going to hurt, right? [I nod] Oh thank goodness, I didn't want to be the person to tell you."
5. "Aren't you the girl who is allergic to silver nitrate? I heard about you last week! We've never had anyone with that allergy before, this will be a new one for us!"
Of course it's a new one, I'm here to make sure no one at Mayo is ever bored. Duh.
The surgery went well, my stoma is burnt to a crisp and I now have a brand, spanking new transgastric jejunostomy tube (transgastric = goes through your stomach, jejunostomy = ends in your jejunum, second part of your small intestine). The transgastric J tube is typically the second in a series of tubes, and it was for me as well. I started with a PEG-J tube and today I got promoted! (Cue Pomp and Circumstance)
The biggest difference is that the transgastric J tube has a balloon inflated just under the skin to help anchor the tube in place. I have to come back to Mayo every 3-4 months to get a new balloon. Frankly, I think my fans just want to see me and this is an easy excuse...if they promise the blanket warmer, I might just bring oatmeal scotchies.
1. "Hey! Welcome back! I heard that you got a PICC line, thank goodness!"
2. "Oh hey, are you that girl that they gave too much versed (sedative) last week? I heard about you!"
3. "Lydia, you are back again! I'll make sure we put some extra blankets in the warmer." (clearly this nurse is AWESOME)
4. "So you are aware that using the heat tool on your skin is going to hurt, right? [I nod] Oh thank goodness, I didn't want to be the person to tell you."
5. "Aren't you the girl who is allergic to silver nitrate? I heard about you last week! We've never had anyone with that allergy before, this will be a new one for us!"
Of course it's a new one, I'm here to make sure no one at Mayo is ever bored. Duh.
The surgery went well, my stoma is burnt to a crisp and I now have a brand, spanking new transgastric jejunostomy tube (transgastric = goes through your stomach, jejunostomy = ends in your jejunum, second part of your small intestine). The transgastric J tube is typically the second in a series of tubes, and it was for me as well. I started with a PEG-J tube and today I got promoted! (Cue Pomp and Circumstance)
The biggest difference is that the transgastric J tube has a balloon inflated just under the skin to help anchor the tube in place. I have to come back to Mayo every 3-4 months to get a new balloon. Frankly, I think my fans just want to see me and this is an easy excuse...if they promise the blanket warmer, I might just bring oatmeal scotchies.
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