Just Call Me Nurse Ratched* - November 11,, 2107
( * Nurse Rached is the cold, heartless, tyrannical nurse in “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.”)
(Note from Jan: I have Laurence’s permission to share this – but not necessarily his blessing. 😊)
My hub’s medical health becomes a full-time job for me at times.
I don’t mean that he is sick. Far from it – he’s the picture of health (for a 64-year-old.) I don’t mean that he has an unhealthy lifestyle. He gets more plants and exercise than most rabbits.
Nope, it’s getting him to book an appointment with our family doctor. Go to the appointment. Follow up with bloodwork. Follow up with any other tests that need to be done. Go back for the results. And then take any meds or do any tasks the doc prescribes.
This year it started in late February. I went to see my doc, Dr. R., for my own health and she said, “When is your husband due for his physical? I will look it up.” She did. “September,” she said, “Only you must book the appointment for him. Men won’t do it.”
So, I guess I’m not alone in this!
Come September, I did book his physical for October. Yes, I booked it. He was in the room with me and I had our calendar in front of us, and then as I was repeating the date and time the receptionist Adelle (not her real name) gave us, Laur said, “That won’t work!?”
“What!?” I snapped. “You just said that these dates and times are OK.” “I forgot about xyz…” he explained. I apologized to the receptionist and sweetly said, “I’ll call you back in a few minutes, OK?!”
Grrr. In fact, the “thing” he had was a week later. I phoned Adelle back. “If that appointment is still available, he’ll take it. My next phone call is for marriage counselling.” Adelle laughed. She is one of about a dozen children and is from Down East. Nothing much bothers her.
Day of the appointment. I actually go with him. (I also had an appt., if truth be told…) Thankfully (?) things were running late at the doctor’s office – though that is the usual state of affairs. (Says Laur, “See I told you!”)
Laur comes out with four requisitions. Two of the tests can be done in one lab. The other two, in another lab. OK. I circle the calendar for a Tuesday morning because I think it will be a slow morning for getting blood work and urinalysis done. I get a special lidded cup for my hubs to fill the night before we go, because the bloodwork is fasting and if he hasn’t had anything to drink for 12 hours before he is gives a urine sample, the results can be wonky. And this means two more trips – one to the doc and one back to the lab.
What I didn’t account for is that this was the one rainy morning after a week of sunshine. The lab opens at 7:30 – we were there at 7:15, and there was a lineup around the waiting room and out the door. The workers there and our fellow patients had never seen anything like this! We had to wait almost two hours. One of us wasn’t very happy – that was me. I was having bloodwork done too, and I don’t do well without food and fluids.
I booked Laur’s tests at the other lab – with him sitting right beside me in the living room to make sure I got everything right – the tests, the date, the time, etc. We were to be there at 7:15 in the morning. That works for me – I start waking up at 4:10 am. Hubs on the other hand is normally still in la-la land until 7:30 or so. He was a tad tetchy about the bedroom lights and the classical music going on full blast at 5:30 am. Just call me Nurse Ratched.
Those tests went off rather well except for when Laur was asked why he was having these tests. He wanted to say, “Because my wife and Dr. R are conspiring against me…” But then remembered that paranoia is an early indicator of Alzheimer’s. And if he gets a diagnosis of dementia, it will be his dictatorial wife doing all the driving. This is one area of our velcroed together life where Laur gets to run the show. (Why he wouldn’t want to run the laundry, cooking, cat care, and garbage removal show is anyone’s guess! 😊 )
Now for the results. We know from talking to Adelle that Dr. R. wants to see Laur about his bloodwork. I am inclined to ruminate about things – so I signed up to be able to see my bloodwork results on line before I even go in to see the doctor. Laur didn’t want to because he doesn’t know what the numbers mean, and Dr. R. will inform him when she sees him. (I booked that appointment too.)
I explained to him and that I DO know what the numbers mean and want to start thinking of a strategy in advance. Laur informed me that he was unlikely to do anything based on what I told him – and he had a point there. But I still wanted to know how much I needed to worry about this.
Laur agreed to look up his results on line. Except that he couldn’t because he hadn’t gotten a code at his lab visit. No worries. I would get the code. Just before lunch, I phoned Life Lab – their phone system was down, and a voice suggested that I “send a text.” Grrr. I decided to call again midway through our lunch and asked Laur, “Do you have your health card handy?” Laur said that he would really like to be able to eat his lunch first, and then get his card out.
Good thing too because – when I eventually got through – the person on the other end of the line wanted to talk to Laurence, not me. He would not have been happy to answer the myriad of questions half-way through his sandwich.
Eventually he got his code and I sat beside him while he entered everything. Yes, I am overbearing, but I actually care about this senior husband of mine. He had just entered everything when I pointed to something on his “touch screen” and accidentally touched it – thus knocking him out of the system. Oops! A few attempts later he got confirmation that he could now check out his results.
The problem? His hemoglobin is a little low. That is something easily fixed. Instead of giving him iron every two days, I’ll give him iron every day – along with his blood-thinner that I bring him every morning. I may not be a joy to live with, but I am thorough.
There were two points of this whole data entry thing that we actually found humorous. The first was the part where the system asked him to enter a phrase he says regularly. I suggested he not put “Janice, what did you sign me up for now?!” because he might not remember whether he’d written “Jan” or “Janice.” So, Laurence put down his second most repeated (by himself, to himself) phrase, “Laurence, you idiot!” Chuckle!
It gets funnier. Now every time the lab contacts him, it will use the phrase he wrote down so that Laur will know it’s truly from the lab and not spam.
So Laur gets his first note from the lab… “‘Laurence, you idiot!’ Thank you for signing up for ‘my results.’” Should he continue to follow up his lab work AND get dementia, he’ll come to believe his name is “Laurence, you idiot.”
Easier to remember than “Jan or Janice Whatdidyousignmeupfornow.”
(Note from Laur: He says this story should be titled: “All in a man’s life…”)
(Note from Jan: I have Laurence’s permission to share this – but not necessarily his blessing. 😊)
My hub’s medical health becomes a full-time job for me at times.
I don’t mean that he is sick. Far from it – he’s the picture of health (for a 64-year-old.) I don’t mean that he has an unhealthy lifestyle. He gets more plants and exercise than most rabbits.
Nope, it’s getting him to book an appointment with our family doctor. Go to the appointment. Follow up with bloodwork. Follow up with any other tests that need to be done. Go back for the results. And then take any meds or do any tasks the doc prescribes.
This year it started in late February. I went to see my doc, Dr. R., for my own health and she said, “When is your husband due for his physical? I will look it up.” She did. “September,” she said, “Only you must book the appointment for him. Men won’t do it.”
So, I guess I’m not alone in this!
Come September, I did book his physical for October. Yes, I booked it. He was in the room with me and I had our calendar in front of us, and then as I was repeating the date and time the receptionist Adelle (not her real name) gave us, Laur said, “That won’t work!?”
“What!?” I snapped. “You just said that these dates and times are OK.” “I forgot about xyz…” he explained. I apologized to the receptionist and sweetly said, “I’ll call you back in a few minutes, OK?!”
Grrr. In fact, the “thing” he had was a week later. I phoned Adelle back. “If that appointment is still available, he’ll take it. My next phone call is for marriage counselling.” Adelle laughed. She is one of about a dozen children and is from Down East. Nothing much bothers her.
Day of the appointment. I actually go with him. (I also had an appt., if truth be told…) Thankfully (?) things were running late at the doctor’s office – though that is the usual state of affairs. (Says Laur, “See I told you!”)
Laur comes out with four requisitions. Two of the tests can be done in one lab. The other two, in another lab. OK. I circle the calendar for a Tuesday morning because I think it will be a slow morning for getting blood work and urinalysis done. I get a special lidded cup for my hubs to fill the night before we go, because the bloodwork is fasting and if he hasn’t had anything to drink for 12 hours before he is gives a urine sample, the results can be wonky. And this means two more trips – one to the doc and one back to the lab.
What I didn’t account for is that this was the one rainy morning after a week of sunshine. The lab opens at 7:30 – we were there at 7:15, and there was a lineup around the waiting room and out the door. The workers there and our fellow patients had never seen anything like this! We had to wait almost two hours. One of us wasn’t very happy – that was me. I was having bloodwork done too, and I don’t do well without food and fluids.
I booked Laur’s tests at the other lab – with him sitting right beside me in the living room to make sure I got everything right – the tests, the date, the time, etc. We were to be there at 7:15 in the morning. That works for me – I start waking up at 4:10 am. Hubs on the other hand is normally still in la-la land until 7:30 or so. He was a tad tetchy about the bedroom lights and the classical music going on full blast at 5:30 am. Just call me Nurse Ratched.
Those tests went off rather well except for when Laur was asked why he was having these tests. He wanted to say, “Because my wife and Dr. R are conspiring against me…” But then remembered that paranoia is an early indicator of Alzheimer’s. And if he gets a diagnosis of dementia, it will be his dictatorial wife doing all the driving. This is one area of our velcroed together life where Laur gets to run the show. (Why he wouldn’t want to run the laundry, cooking, cat care, and garbage removal show is anyone’s guess! 😊 )
Now for the results. We know from talking to Adelle that Dr. R. wants to see Laur about his bloodwork. I am inclined to ruminate about things – so I signed up to be able to see my bloodwork results on line before I even go in to see the doctor. Laur didn’t want to because he doesn’t know what the numbers mean, and Dr. R. will inform him when she sees him. (I booked that appointment too.)
I explained to him and that I DO know what the numbers mean and want to start thinking of a strategy in advance. Laur informed me that he was unlikely to do anything based on what I told him – and he had a point there. But I still wanted to know how much I needed to worry about this.
Laur agreed to look up his results on line. Except that he couldn’t because he hadn’t gotten a code at his lab visit. No worries. I would get the code. Just before lunch, I phoned Life Lab – their phone system was down, and a voice suggested that I “send a text.” Grrr. I decided to call again midway through our lunch and asked Laur, “Do you have your health card handy?” Laur said that he would really like to be able to eat his lunch first, and then get his card out.
Good thing too because – when I eventually got through – the person on the other end of the line wanted to talk to Laurence, not me. He would not have been happy to answer the myriad of questions half-way through his sandwich.
Eventually he got his code and I sat beside him while he entered everything. Yes, I am overbearing, but I actually care about this senior husband of mine. He had just entered everything when I pointed to something on his “touch screen” and accidentally touched it – thus knocking him out of the system. Oops! A few attempts later he got confirmation that he could now check out his results.
The problem? His hemoglobin is a little low. That is something easily fixed. Instead of giving him iron every two days, I’ll give him iron every day – along with his blood-thinner that I bring him every morning. I may not be a joy to live with, but I am thorough.
There were two points of this whole data entry thing that we actually found humorous. The first was the part where the system asked him to enter a phrase he says regularly. I suggested he not put “Janice, what did you sign me up for now?!” because he might not remember whether he’d written “Jan” or “Janice.” So, Laurence put down his second most repeated (by himself, to himself) phrase, “Laurence, you idiot!” Chuckle!
It gets funnier. Now every time the lab contacts him, it will use the phrase he wrote down so that Laur will know it’s truly from the lab and not spam.
So Laur gets his first note from the lab… “‘Laurence, you idiot!’ Thank you for signing up for ‘my results.’” Should he continue to follow up his lab work AND get dementia, he’ll come to believe his name is “Laurence, you idiot.”
Easier to remember than “Jan or Janice Whatdidyousignmeupfornow.”
(Note from Laur: He says this story should be titled: “All in a man’s life…”)