I made another medical
related journey’s morning. This time it was to the Veterans Administration
Newburg clinic to which I am assigned for primary care. The purpose, as I
explained in yesterday’s journal entry, was to see my shrink.
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| I snapped this photograph this morning as I arrived at the clinic |
I must admit that since my
days as a practicing social worker I have not had much confidence in
psychiatrists. Actually, I truly began to lose confidence in the psychiatric
profession after I visited one at the University of Kentucky
when I was a student. But that’s another humorous story I must remind myself to
relate someday.
Today’s visit, as with all
of my recent excursions for health, did not go smoothly. To begin with, the
appointment time I was given was 9:00 AM. To meet the check-in procedures
established by the Veterans Administration I arrived at 8:40. That’s when I was
told that the appointment had been unilaterally changed by the clinic to 9:30.
Considering my left leg was throbbing, the idea of an extra half an hour wait
did not please.
However, when the Doc come to call me for the appointment and noticed how difficult it was for me to
walk, he obtained a wheelchair and pushed me the relatively long distance to
his office. So far OK. However, as he pushed me down the second long hallway a
push me directly into a ladder on which a workman was standing while changing a
light bulb! When I noticed that the doctor was not going to stop, I yelled
(loudly) Man on ladder!!!!!!!
Unfortunately,
my psychiatrist did not stop pushing until the wheelchair hit the ladder.
Luckily the man on the letter saw the wheelchair coming, jumped off of it, and
held at steady so that it did not topple over on top of me. The doctor
explained that he had been looking at the floor and not where he was going.
The 30 minute interview
with the psychiatrist went fine, even though, as with most of the VA physicians,
the time was spent with him looking at his computer screen and asking me
questions came from it and typing my answers on to it. [SIGH]
The result of the
appointment is that my primary antidepressant has been reverted to the one I
was taking back in December. He also told me, after I responded yes to his
question as to whether I had ever thought about suicide, that a new study read
reports that over 90% of Americans over the age of 50 have, at one time or
another, considered taking their own life. That does not surprise me.
On the way home again my
portable oxygen compressor’s battery ran out of power. When I first got the
device the battery generally lasted close to three hours; now it’s barely lasts
for two hours. I have made myself a note to contact supplier and asked that it
be checked out.
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| My portable oxygen compressor |
After I returned to the
apartment, changed from the portable oxygen compressor to the large oxygen
compressor and regained my breath, again all three Kitty Kids surrounded me,
begging for treats. At the rate they are eating treats, we’re going to run out
well before my August pension check arrives.
My jaw and leg have been
extremely painful today. Even the prescription medication containing codeine
has had little effect. I did try something do with my jaw: when I left the
emergency room the other day I was given a box of samples that included a small
tube and bottle of Crest Pro-Health toothpaste and mouth wash. I gave them a
try this afternoon followed by (after the 30 minute wait according to the mouth
wash instructions) rinsing my mouth with warm salt water. The combination
reduced my jaw pain by about 70%.
I have no new pictures of
the kittens. My leg is been too unstable to risk going into the closet and
possibly falling on top of the little ones. I do have this photograph of Alex
doing what he does best (aside from eating): napping.
Donate a penny
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his 3 Kitty Kids,
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