Trials for Sue Along with Some Good News

I haven't posted about it until now, but Sue took a tumble last week — a whole week ago, last Tuesday, as a matter of fact.

It seemed innocent enough at first. We had been on the front lawn, trying to get an outdoor, spent chrysanthemum into a bag for autumn leaf pickup. Suddenly, Sue went over, and we're not sure what caused it. Since she was already bending over. it wasn't a far fall, but she was gasping found it difficult to get her breath for a moment. The neighbour across the street her her moans and came over out of concern.

Afterward, her side was very sore but seemed a little better over the next two days. Then, we had that fruitless trip into the hospital last Friday, followed by dinner out, and that exacerbated the condition.

By Sunday evening, she was in much discomfort, and while she wasn't exactly struggling to breathe, the pain made it difficult to take a deep breath

What to do on a Sunday evening when you know that radiology in our little hospital is closed until Monday morning?* Well, we did go to Emerg anyway; three hours passed before we emerged from Emerg :) into the cold night. The doctor diagnosed that her lungs were fine but that she could have cracked a rib for which there is no help except time. He gave us an X-Ray requisition for morning, just to double check.

However, she didn't return for the X-Ray yesterday, for that was the day to drive back to the city hospital to see the disease specialist. 

The good news on that front, and surely we need some for a change, is that the doctor declared, most emphatically, that Sue does not have C. diff, and most likely never did have C. diff.

She was dreading going on another course of the antibiotic that affected her last time, and the second dose would have been for much longer. At least that frightful scenario can be laid to rest. 

Apparently, it is not uncommon for bowels to go kerflooey after certain surgeries, but diet and time should restore Sue to her former vitality in due course. He did suggest a bowel X-Ray, just in case the surgery has impacted the situation in some way.

Shortly after we got home, Sue got a call from our radiology department to set up an appointment for today. We were surprised by the quick response. The specialist had immediately sent his report to our family doctor. She read it and acted upon it promptly by referring Sue for an X-Ray. Then, radiology contacted Sue forthwith. That is pretty good, I think.

So she'll have both of her X-Rays today — bowel and ribs. I am hoping and thinking that they'll both be negative, and that will be a good thing. Then I shall have my arm X-Rays this afternoon and my second physio appointment tomorrow morning.

Hopefully, we'll both be on the mend, and, perhaps, there will be little more to say about health concerns for a a spell.

Please make it so.

* We been through our unique hospital explanation, here. No! it is not typical of Canadian hospitals to not have radiology facilities available in off-hours. That our little X-Ray department closes at night also astounds Canadians who live in more urban areas. It is a local situation and not about the whole country’s health care system.

Tamaracks Again

We finally had some sun on Saturday, so I did go back to visit the tamaracks. After the previous overcast day, it was almost too sunny and contrasty for the best photos. It's hard to win on some days.

I took the same photo as I did on the previous day of the pair of trees. The park views are restricted by houses on three sides, and it can be difficult to find compositions that excludes them, but this is one. On this day, I probably would wish for some clouds, but it was what it was.

At another location, I took a photo of a single tree on the other side of the pond. I was drawn by the reflections as much as anything.

While I am not exactly over the moon for either photo, they will suffice for a Monday morning post in November. 

Tamaracks and Bleak November

We looked out the window. It was sunny. "Let's at least go to the little park (not the park that you usually see on this blog) and check out the tamaracks," said I.

Their wood is used to make runners for dogsleds as well as old-school snowshoes. They are made into pulp for our paper, used in framing houses, and even railroad ties. Needles of this species are often made into a tea that is used as a diuretic, to soothe sore throats, and even chewed to aid digestion.

That's ↑ nice information, but what is special to me about tamaracks is that, unlike other conifers, their leaves (needles) turn colour in autumn just like deciduous trees. And just like regular deciduous trees, they drop their leaves/needles.

There are a few in our nearby little park around the little nearby corner, and I tend to go there to check out the tamarack trees come late autumn.

Naturally, once we got out, there was no sun — zip, nada. When was it ever not thus? On the plus side, they hadn't dropped their needles yet, and some of the specimens were even still more green than yellow. But one takes photographs anyway because one is there, and one (or two) might not get back anytime soon.

While colours may not be dazzling on cloudy days, I find that they still have a kind of appeal to me.

Of course, the other trees were barren, and I think this ↓ photo reflects the bleakness that is November. I shot it in square format just because . . .

I hope to get back there at some point for another attempt. We shall see.

This Invisible Duo

Poor Sue has caught my affliction. On June 08, fresh from surgery, I wrote The Invisible Man Syndrome for your delectation. I wrote about my surgery and how it was held up while they searched for bed for me. They never did find a bed, but I chose to proceed with the surgery, regardless. I just wanted to get it done and go home.

Being invisible is kind of the meme of my life. It has happened any number of times. For example, when I was transferred from one school to another after ten years of teaching, a desk was not prepared for me on the first parents night. Oddly enough, a fellow teacher reported that they did put out a desk for me at my former school. Apparently, one institution didn't know that invisible me had left while the other didn't know that invisible me had come.

While it sort of happened again recently when my appointment for radiology vanished into the ether, this post is meant to be more about Sue than it is about me.

Post-surgery, Sue has never been  right. Eventually, lab results indicated that she had C. diff. After the ten-day course of treatment, her condition was unimproved. A follow-up lab test was ordered. Without going into details, for some arcane reason, the test could not be completed.

Eventually, after some cajoling for an answer, her doctor referred her to the Infectious Disease Clinic in the city hospital.

That is where we went yesterday, with Shauna, who was once again good enough to to drive the old folk.

As soon as we entered the edifice, Sue was directed to registration. This should only take two minutes, so I waited in the lobby.

After several two-minutes had passed. I peered into the registration room. The receptionist dealing with Sue had a phone glued to her ear.

Thought I, "This does not bode well. Something is sure to be amiss."

I waited, and peeked again: phone still glued to ear.

And again.

I decided to sit down, and it took another little while for Sue to emerge.

She told me they had no appointment for her; they didn't even have a record of the referral. Sue did not exist for this hospital.

Sue used her phone to prove that she had gotten a call. Then, they found her referral paperwork but they still had no record of an appointment being made.

"The secretary must have forgotten to enter it," they said.

"We cannot take you today," they said.

"You can come back Monday," they said.

Sue, the Newly Baptized Invisible Woman, left with physical proof that they had actually made an appointment for Monday.

We did go out for an early supper. We were not invisible then. We were served, and behold it was good. We even have a picture to prove that we exist — or at least that we existed for awhile on Friday afternoon.

We will return to the hospital on Monday when we hope that they will be able to trace the invisible virus or whatever it is that has been plaguing Sue for three months.

Meanwhile, I trust that you are relieved to not be related to this invisible duo.

Up Here

For a light touch after heavy posting and reading yesterday, here's a fun little song about Canada as we head into interminable winter. I hadn't heard this one before. Enjoy.

 

Hinterland and Healthcare

We are finally getting somewhere with my arm/shoulder issue, which I will simply call arm from here on, for not only is it shorter to type, but it is also a little more accurate, at least in terms of where the pain is located. There is still some uncertainty about the specific cause.

Now, I want to wax pedantic and talk more about our health care situation, especially within our local geographic context. I do this because there were recently some comments that revealed an understandably incomplete appreciation of our local situation. 

Please bear with me.

Canadian healthcare funds doctors and hospitals. I have had two surgeries and three cystoscopies this year and not had to worry for one moment about the cost. It has been the same with Sue's ambulance ride and surgery. However, for the most part, pharmaceuticals or ancillary services such as dentistry are not covered, and some people carry extra private insurance through via their employment. 

Physio is mostly not government funded here in Ontario. In our town, however, the hospital does have a physiotherapy department, and being in hospital it does not charge a fee. If you can get a referral there, it's a good deal, and they give you great care. I did get a referral, but I had expected that the wait time would be three months for the demand is great, but I was lucky enough to be seen within two weeks. (I possibly got a quick referral because I am a senior without any extra private coverage.)

I still haven't had my X-Ray and Ultrasound, but now we know that the delay has been due to an atypical malfunction. Apparently, they called the very day after my referral and left a voice message. Well, I was unaware of either the phone call or the message. It was either a technological issue or human error and either on my end or their end. Who knows? But it happened, and me being me, I can guess that it was, somehow, my fault.? However, I now have an appointment for next week.

After yesterday's physio session and the concomitant poking and prodding, my arm was sorer than usual last night. However, I managed to sleep just as well or, as the case may be, just as poorly as ever. 

Now. permit me to explain our geography and how it can relate to healthcare availability.

First, I need to help you to understand what our hospital is and where it is.

It's called a hospital, but it is largely an ER along with radiology and physio as I have already described. It is not the scale of institution that most people think of when they think of hospitals.

Onward I now proceed to unfold the scintillating geography part of the lesson. 

Below is a GMaps screen capture of us (red circle) and the region to the west, extending about 150km/100mi (blue arrow). The green represents forest. As you can see, we are on the edge of a very rural, sparsely populated hinterland; even most of the dots closest to us represent only very small hamlets. There is no white, to speak of, showing evenly settled farmland. It's just not that kind of region.

Carleton Place now has an estimated 12 500 inhabitants due to recent growth and is the most populated community within the map area. The two north-south red arrows show the line of about five other significant towns on the fringes of Ottawa. A few of these were somewhat larger than Carleton Place until our very recent growth. The blue arrow extending westward for about 150k/100m leads to the blue circle which is the next western major town. However, Bancroft is not really that major, for it has only about 4000 permanent residents although it services a recreational area, and its summer population is much larger. 

The point is that we are on the edge of a rather unpopulated region. So no, there is not a clinic that one can conveniently drop into for an X-Ray (unless one wishes to drive into the city, which is off the map to the east. Sometimes, we need to wait for a medical service for just a little bit. If I need a CT Scan or need to see my urologist, I must travel a half hour south to Smiths Falls. A few years ago when I required hernia surgery, I was sent to another hospital and surgeon in Perth, also a half hour away. If we require even higher-end services, such as Sue's recent, emergency appendectomy, we are sent eastward into the big hospitals in Ottawa. (In fact we are going there tomorrow to see specialists in the infectious disease centre. Doubtless, I will report on that in due course.)

Given the regional population density our health care system works pretty well. Urgent needs, such as Sue's appendectomy, get dealt with pretty promptly. Meanwhile, an arm X-Ray for just chronic soreness might take a few days or even a week, assuming no communication hiccups as there were in my case. Of course, there are flaws, but, from what I read, every health care system in every country has its share of problems. My distinct impression, as much as we might complain from time to time, very few Canadians want to swap it for a different system. 

So that was me reverting to my former pedagogical self. I hope it made sense, for it was tough to organize and explain clearly and succinctly in a short blog post.

Capitulation

When we returned from getting our flu shots at noon yesterday, I capitulated and turned the furnace on. The indoor temperature had gone down to 15.5C/60F, and even Sue, who is one hot chick, was cold. There have been night frosts, and the first snow fell on Sunday night. So, twelve hours short of winning the Great October Furnace Challenge, I threw in the towel and did not match 2019, when we made it for that one extra day.

Aside from me and Sue, even Sha and the kids had been chilly when they came over for family dinner on Monday evening, and they are not chilly types of folk. Then there is Lacey, le chat to be considered, for cannot put on a sweater or pull up a blanket. 

From the long range forecast, I knew as much as a week ago that the last three days of October would be difficult, with temperatures dropping below the freezing point overnight and ascending not very much above during the day. 

For the most part we did well until the last few days but with the indoor temperature staying around the mid-sixties, but when it dropped even lower it was getting tough. It is one thing to spend a few hours at 60F, but it is quite another to continue at that low temperature with no breaks.

On this rabbit rabbit first morning of November, old AC is feeling toasty and warm and not too defeated.