Johnny Appleseed Missed The Boat

After four visits, I now have an idea how my occupational therapy sessions will go. I show up and notify the front desk I'm there. I sit down and wait, doing my best to avoid random children zooming around, or unsteady walkers, or reckless scooters. On time, I get called by OT, and proceed to the inner sanctum, and her treatment room.

I take off my shoes and socks, pull up the legs of my sweatpants, and sit on the end of the hydraulic table/bed. Some days, it's just for a re-wrap. Other days, she puts a sheet on the table/bed, and I lie down for a massage of sorts. Not the happy-ending kind! Some armpit/abdominal/groin/leg pushing. I liken it to the kneading of a cat. A cat with human-size lady-hands.

On Tuesday, there was a new tool: a ziploc bag containing rows of cherry seeds sewn into material. Kind of like a knobby potholder in a baggie. OT said a rep had given it to her, and she puts it in a new bag to use on each patient. She uses it between the leg and her hands, to massage and break down tissue that has hardened, to improve circulation.

"Who in the world though of such a use for CHERRY SEEDS! You'd think another fruit would be more efficient. Maybe one with a LOT of seeds. Not just one seed per cherry. Or maybe the factories that pit the cherries pushed this, as a way to get rid of the cherry seeds! I don't get it? Are they pointy on the ends? Or why wouldn't plastic balls be just as useful?"

"I don't know. This is something new since I did my training. The seeds are all a little bit different size, but they're smooth. Maybe they roll different, because they're not perfectly round. It's not like they're loose and releasing any chemicals into the skin."

Such a mystery. OT had warmed the packet in a microwave. It was actually a pleasant (not happy!) feeling as my leg was massaged with it. My hour ended right on time. I was wrapped, back in my socks and shoes, and leaving Bill-Paying Town by three minutes after the hour. I really don't mind it at all, except the waiting room with PEOPLE in it!

I guess there's a cherry-grower's association thumbing their collective noses at Johnny Appleseed.

Mrs. HM Is Smelling Again

Yes, Mrs. HM's sense of taste and smell have returned! What food did I choose to celebrate? A TACO SALAD! I had been thinking about pulled pork nachos, but on Errand Day, The Pony was browsing around the biscuit section of Country Mart, and came to me with a flat box package.

"Look at this, Mom! It says you can make your own taco salad bowls!"

Well. That DID look promising. I think the brand was Aztec. The box had four tortillas and some cardboard foldy thingies to drape them over. Bake for 6-10 minutes, cool, and you have your own taco salad shell! I'm sure you could do the same thing with a regular flour tortilla draped over an oven-proof bowl. But I was willing to give this a try. It turned out great!

The shell crisped up quite nicely. Disregard the box of bandaids, and the ibuprofen. I'm not a great cook, but I don't regularly slice off appendages. I'm slow to put things in the cabinets, and I was almost out of ibuprofen, and when Pepper gets feisty, it's handy to have the bandaids ready and waiting by the sink.

I looked in 10Box and Country Mart for shredded lettuce. None to be found! I guess other taste-regainers had the same idea. So I had to chop up my romaine.

Next came the chicken. Diced from a boneless skinless chicken breast I had baked a couple days earlier for Farmer H's suppers.

The cheese was extra-sharp cheddar. I buy a 16 oz block and cut it into 16 cubes. So I have a handy 1-oz portion ready when I need it. This was done on my handheld grater. No fingertips included, heh, heh!

Gotta have my crunchy sweet Vidalia onion.

There's Save A Lot medium salsa, with some Frank's Original RedHot Sauce sprinkled on top.

Three tablespoons of sour cream dabbed all around.

Crowned with black olives. Yes, I had to slice them myself. I mistakenly thought I had more of those pre-sliced small cans. But no. I guess I used them on super nachos.

This chicken taco salad was everything I dreamed of! There are still three more "shells" in FRIG II. I'll get around to them, and the pulled pork, after I'm done with our Tuesday Mother's Day Chinese.

So Many Roadblocks, So Much Time

It seems as if every appointment with Occupational Therapy is to be fraught with obstacles. First one, there was the wild kid running around who crashed into my knee. The second one had the broken brake on the hydraulic table/bed. The third one was cancelled! That's right! No sooner had I gotten my untimely treatment started after two months of delays, than my third appointment was cancelled!

I was driving T-Hoe on Errand Day, trying to turn into the bank while avoiding a guy on a mower whizzing across the entrance. My cell phone rang. I tried to answer with one hand while steering with the other. The Pony had said the number calling had last been used last week.

"Oh! That's the hospital number. My leg appointments. Give it to me! Hello?"

"Mom. It didn't slide. You haven't answered. Here. Let me get it."

The Pony accepted the call, and I pulled up into the employee parking area to take it.

"Is this HM? I'm calling for HM about her appointment tomorrow at 8:30."

"This is her."

"Your therapist is sick, and won't be in tomorrow. So your appointment is cancelled."

"Oh. That's okay with me. Thank you so much for calling to let me know."

"We have you on Monday at 1:00."

"Yes. I'll be there. Thank you."

I'm not disappointed to miss that session. I don't really like to get out of the Mansion that early. I just hope they don't tack that on at the end of the 12 weeks now!

Seems Like There Should Be An Easier Way

Automation is out of control! To make one person's life easier, it takes inconveniencing a myriad of others. It's not like this is anything new. It just came up on my gripe list this week.

You may recall that I will be hauling myself down to Occupational Therapy in Bill-Paying Town three times a week, for 12 weeks (!) for treatment on my legs. Which still probably won't qualify me for a knee replacement, but maybe that's not meant to be.

Anyhoo... for each appointment, I get an email and a text saying that I need to do the pre-check-in on YourChart. Oh, and I also have a regular (follow-up) appointment with my NP this week. So I got 10 such reminders on Thursday! They were for Friday/Monday/Tuesday/Friday leg appointments, and the Wednesday NP appointment. At least I only had to log onto YourChart and confirm FIVE times, not all 10.

Surely this could be more streamlined. The only screens that I had to interact with were for each visit, to automatically sign my consent for treatment and billing. That's it! Just a fake signature. They have all the rest of my info. Wouldn't you think I could consent to the entire 12 weeks of treatment ONE TIME? So I would only need to fake sign once, rather than 36 times???

As for the appointment my NP had scheduled when I was there in March about my legs, the follow-up two months into the future in May, which he said he still needed, rather than combine it with my regular 6-month appointment in June... that dang YourChart had the AUDACITY to ask me what my appointment was for!

YOU tell ME! I didn't make the appointment! My NP made the appointment. Surely it should have some type of code as a follow-up for some other type of code.

But no. I was supposed to say what my "complaint" (heh, heh, I could have a field day with that!) was, and the reason for it, etc.

I will probably get a little persnickety when I see my NP. You know, what with having seen the OT only ONE WEEK before this "follow-up" appointment to see how the treatment is going. My blood pressure reading may not be in the normal range.

Mystery (Somewhat) Solved

It's been a week since my Fave went missing. She usually works the afternoon shift four days, over the weekend at the Gas Station Chicken Store. I was highly optimistic on Thursday. Surely Fave would be back, just like normal. Wouldn't she? 

NOPE!

The car in the parking lot was that of the Other Gal. She works the other afternoon shifts, and also mornings on the weekends. She's okay. I have no issues with her. The tickets she sells me do not seem as lucky. Over this past week, my winnings have suffered! However... I got up the gumption on Thursday, around 4:30, with no other customers in the store. As Other Gal was handing back my $2 change, I took the plunge...

"I was surprised to see you here today. I was expecting Fave."

"Oh. Well..."

"What's going on with that?"

"Fave got shot."

"WHAT? SHOT??? That's terrible! I was thinking maybe she got another dog bite. Losing the end of her thumb was bad enough. But SHOT!!! That's even worse! How did THAT happen?"

"Well. She was with her dog. Apparently somebody said he was going to shoot the dog, and Fave said no he wasn't."

"Where did she get hit?"

"The abdomen, I think? I haven't talked to her. And maybe on her calf. I think the bullet just grazed her."

"The abdomen is not good! I hope she's okay. But thanks for the info."

What in the actual NOT-HEAVEN??? There comes a time when maybe you have to evaluate your situation, and maybe, just maybe, realize that this dog is not the best thing to have in your life. I'm sure Fave loves her dog. But she's lost work from breaking up a fight, then lost the end of her thumb for breaking up another fight, and now she's been SHOT!

Maybe when she returns, I can get more of the story, straight from the dog-momma's mouth.

Mrs. HM Is Back To Her Tasteful Self (Kind Of)

Blow the long horns, and start the pageantry for the official announcement: Mrs. HM Seems To Be Slowly Regaining Her Taste!

I don't want to jump the gun, put the cart before the horse, or count my chickens before they hatch. But I have HOPE! Which started on Thursday morning. I almost detected a smidgen of flavor at the first bite of banana. WHAT? Was it possible? Sadly, the rest of the banana was just as tasteless as it had been for the past 12 days. It was the 14th day since I fell ill. Time to be healed!

The oatmeal just had the newly-regular taste that I can only describe as "discernable sweetness." No actual flavor, but it was sweet, not savory. I opened up my little jar of Vicks VapoRub and took a whiff. Nope. Nothing. It might as well be an unscented candle.

On my Errand Day with The Pony, I shared my hope. I had a generic Halls MenthoLyptus Honey Lemon cough drop. There were a couple of instances where I thought I noticed lemon! Not while consciously trying to taste it. But randomly, which got my attention back on my taste buds.

I had another cough drop just before my snack of 1 oz of sharp cheddar and 12 dill pickle chips. Not really needed to open up my nasal passages, because I could breathe in and out normally through my nose. I had hoped the MenthoLyptus would waft up into the recesses of my sinuses and shrink the tissues a bit more, to let those flavor molecules proceed to the tiny patch that recognizes them. Nope.

At suppertime, I tried the Vicks jar again. I think I could tell it was Vicks! Barely. I had a can of sardines with mustard sauce. The mustard was tangy, as usual. Perhaps a bit more so this time. Still no sardine flavor. No taste in the Ritz crackers. But the Progresso Chunky Chicken Noodle Soup? I got a small taste of the broth!!! Just a hint, and just a couple times. It was like if La Croix made soup, that would have been the flavor!

Now it's Friday at noon. I can definitely tell I am sniffing a jar of Vicks VapoRub. The banana SEEMED to taste like a banana. But so many of them lately have not much flavor anyway. And I got a couple Brown Sugar Maple vibes from my oatmeal. 

I'm ON THE MEND! Tonight, I'm planning to have a TACO SALAD, made with the boneless skinless chicken breasts I had cooked yesterday for Farmer H's suppers. His with Lemon Pepper, but mine just plain. I think the medium salsa, and Frank's Original RedHot Sauce, might give my nostrils a kick.

Things are looking up for Mrs. HM's nose!

Mrs. HM's Leg Can't Catch A Break

I feel like something is destined to go wrong with each step of my leg journey! First all the trouble getting the appointment. As I was leaving after the second session, on Wednesday, my Occupational Therapist asked me if I ever went to the Wound Care Clinic.

"Do you have time? First I was told that the Wound Care clinic would call me for an appointment. After a couple weeks, I sent messages through YourChart asking what was going on. I was told to call Wound Care myself. They didn't want me! Said it was a task for Physical Therapy, and that they would talk to my NP, and Physical Therapy would call me. Nobody did. Another call to the office, and I was told to call Physical Therapy myself. They said they didn't handle it. I called my NP's office again. The was told that Occupational Therapy would handle that, and give me a call. Nobody did. Another call to NP. More advice to call on my own for an appointment. Occupational Therapy said they had a wait list, and I'd get a call when they had an opening. Now here I am!"

"I was wondering, because I saw a couple of referrals in your chart, and I was trying to figure out what that was all about. Is there anything we could have done that would have made it easier for you?"

"Everybody I talked to was VERY NICE! Even the ones who didn't want me, heh, heh! I don't have any complaints about anybody. I was trying to do the right thing, because I knew I had a follow-up appointment in two months, and the two months were almost over! My appointment is next week. I didn't want to show up and be asked, "So you haven't done ANYTHING?" I didn't want to seem pushy, but I didn't know what to do. If somebody had just called me from somewhere, and said, "We have a waiting list and we'll call when we can fit you it... that would have been very helpful."

My second visit was at 8:30 a.m. The day after I left the first appointment at 2:30 p.m. At least no toddler rammed into my leg this time! The only child I saw was a cutie, a little girl about 6 months old, with wild spiky black hair, whose mom had to use the bathroom, so a receptionist came out an held her. I was called back only two minutes past my appointment time. And then the next obstacle beset me.

There were four people in my treatment room! My OT, two women, and a man. I wondered what they were going to do to me! This seemed serious! OT had said that she would be doing some kind of massage this time. Did it take FOUR people? I'm not an elephant! One person can easily reach across me! They were moving that low flat table bed around. It's on wheels. Covered with blue vinyl, with a hinged part so you can have your head and shoulders elevated. It's just like the one they had in the x-ray room when I got my knee x-rays, and the gal told me to sit on the end. Oh, and did I mention that it rises on hydraulics like a car lift?

Turns out a part broke on the brake the day before. Something snapped.

"I didn't do it!"

"Oh, no. You didn't do it. This was before you were even here."

They all puttered around. The bed had been against the wall, but it was being moved out so OT could move all the way around me. The one lady was in charge of the office equipment, I think. She was going to call the supplier, but trying to work out a makeshift brake for the day, using a plastic wedge, which was too big. 

"Can you put it against the wall? No? Maybe you can use another room today, with the other table. It's only a couple inches narrower."

"I don't know. What's the weight limit? That's the problem if I use it all day. But I can use that room for my next appointment, because I don't need the table. I'm just fitting for a bra. So you can work on this one while I'm not in here. But I need this table after that."

The table wasn't all THAT rolly. OT got on the other side of it as I climbed on, and it didn't roll. She jacked me up about halfway, then sat on her rolly stool, moving all around the table, massaging my lymphatic pressure points or something. She explained, but I didn't catch it all. It was abdomen, armpits, neck, groin, legs, and even feet! This was after I sat on the end first, and she unrolled all the wrappings from my lower legs and feet.

Anyhoo... afterwards I got all wrapped up again. Next appointment for Friday morning.