Sunday, June 2, 2019

Missal Number 1

Ross helped me come up with the name. He suggests we do a series of quick, easy posts to update you on my progress with my condition.

I wasn’t even sure to go in. Anthony knew it. But I didn’t. And my mom had been warning me for two years to take care of my health. She knew I was run down. She told me my dry cough was concerning her.

I was stuck because of my work. I have big bills to pay, lots of them, and no relief in sight. I enjoy what I do, and my group isn’t the best but it’s not the worst. By comparison, the guy with the gig ‘outpatient surgery only’ has to drive to Southgate and farther, in the same day, to make cases and even works on Saturdays. Some places don’t pay, or if they do, they skim off ridiculous fees like sixty dollars here and twenty there. He works predominantly for cash. He likes insurance cases because at least it’s transparent. His only perk is ‘no nights’. And I am quite sure it’s ‘no holidays’ too.

Well, I got sick.

And I have to take what comes.

Life wasn’t good for me since February 2 . On the first I saw the new house.

On the next day, I began the stress of applying for a loan, which in these parts when you are self-employed it’s not easy. It was tight deadlines, and touch and go. The loan I did get is an adjustable rate. I have seven years to fix it or it goes WAY up.

In March, I began the physical hard labor above and beyond that of my work. Moving. I had to pack. Coordinate and pay movers for the big things. But we didn’t get everything. It became a pattern, I drop Anthony off to baseball, then I go work on the old boxes. He didn’t do it all. We did half and half.

In addition, the call acuity got denser—elective robot cases back to back for all nighters.

Add to that having to work late pre-call and also a full day post-call.

I saw people like Faye, the nurse in recovery room who is so sweet and kind, who’s over seventy, struggling in the wee hours. She needs her sleep.

So I complained. I coordinated with my Chief of Surgery, wrote the letter, and change happened. No more robot appy’s In the middle of the night! It’s much better.  But the surgeon and my boss and all of administration are blaming me. And the Chief. They even took away her physician of the month for April.

Then add Spain.

Let me step aside—I asked the guy at the hotel on Friday night when I was on call if he was Sikh. He had on the white gold bracelet. He said it was a good observation, he’s actually Himalayan, but the cultures are close.

My cardiologist Dr. Patel had a thing around his neck under his scrubs that was absolutely screaming to me energetically. I didn’t know what it was and I had to understand it and look it up. But I didn’t know where to start.

So at check in, I asked the guy, what is this necklace I saw and what does it do? It’s just threads and beads?

He had one. He told me the name. It’s a special stone blessing amulet of protection. It’s based on your  birthstone and astrology.  He showed me every ring on every finger—it’s all for protection. Beautiful gems. I saw a fine emerald, not a pricey jewelry shop one, the real thing, energetically.

I had an aha moment!

I had felt naked since taking off all my jewelry for Spain. It’s protective.  But what I shared with him was the Sicilian garlic—I had some on my person—how we use it, and how we use bowls of salt water—again for ‘keeping bad things away’.

Here is my list from Melody on pneumonia stones:  Gold. Rose Eye Jasper. Psilomane. Roscherite. Tellurium. Multi-colored topaz.

Here’s what I do. I get them into my aura any way I can. I go through my supplies in bead making and make bracelets if possible. Otherwise I go to eBay, or online auctions, to get pieces to keep near where I sleep or work. Sometimes I pay ridiculous amounts for the crystals I need. I need them energetically.

This must have been my specialty when Ross and I lived in India. It explains everything. Even looking at jewelry at twelve when I should have been more concerned with dolls.

I live it.

I adore Jaipur and wish to go there one day myself just to see the craftsmen.

Ross gently reminds me to update you on my health.

Seven years ago I had large lymph nodes on a CT Angiogram I took for possible post-op pulmonary embolus. Clinical correlation required.

Well, I don’t have a primary care doctor. My real one is a friend to be honest, one in another state. I have one for insurance but I don’t like her and I haven’t been for two years. She’s by the book. Even though she claims she’s open to Reiki. She’s by the book. Anyhow, I dropped the ball.  I’ve noticed problems in Alaska by Denali, unable to walk an easy trail at altitude. I have a hard time on the plane when they drop the pressure for landing. Nevada Falls was really hard on my breathing. I had to gasp for air after a flight or two of stairs. Anthony did too. I thought I was out of shape. I’ve lost weight and strengthened up from the move. But in Spain I had trouble again on some stairs.  It was haunting like the time Dad, Uncle Ben and I climbed Hackberry mountain whenI was twenty one, and Dad got really really pale an sweaty.

It was his lungs.

Interstitial lung disease is what got him at the end, when I was forty three. It was June 4, it’s his anniversary. He was good until Anthony was two, and I was forty two. Then came the pneumonia’s. He had a pulmonologist. Then came the home oxygen. Then palliative care. Before that he went to the gym and exercised like normal. Worked hard.

Sarcoidosis—I didn’t realize—is considered an interstitial lung disease.

Mom also has Goodpastures. It affects in her case the kidney but it can affect the lungs too.

Her cousin has sarcoidosis..

It is what it is.

I’m on xopenex nebs , prednisone 50 mg daily, z-pack, and got one dose ceftriaxone in Er.

Right now I tried elderberry syrup and I have frankincense oil on my feet .

Just before that I ordered ginger and probiotics and lavender for my Farm Fresh to You box that comes on Wednesdays. I love them. They are really good and you can customize your orders.

I’m propped up.

I’m doing Airborne and Shultze’s LUNG drops.

My respiratory rate is finally back to normal. I’m tired.

Plan is rest and fluids. Uber Eats. Tea, lots of it.

I have on a warm vest. There are special crystals in my pockets of the vest too.

This is a lesson I know, Ross is in his guidance position—quiet, but supportive.

More to follow...

All our love,

Ross and Carla