Wednesday 29 July 2015

Hospitals Beats - Song #1: Strawberries & Raspberries

The world of western medicine, like any good profession, is riddled with alienating acronyms and intimidating titles.  That's not to say I don't respect the many years of training that goes in to those titles!  But I'd like to share my recent hospital visit from a layman's perspective (apologies to my highly trained medical friends ;)

The hospital where I had my 'procedure' was the same hospital where I gave birth to my two wonderful children and the same hospital where I watched my beautiful 57 year-old mother in law loose her battle with asbestos cancer.  If I had a big, baritone Mufasa voice I might start talking about the circle of life... The point is, the hospital is very familiar to me.  But the needles, the various bodily fluids and that potent ethanol smell intimidates me every time!

On the day of my operation I am escorted to a tiny cubicle and asked to replace my clothes with paper knickers and a heavy cotton gown that flaps open regularly to reveal those rockin' paper undies. A rather stern looking nurse asks the standard set of questions: name, DOB, allergies, admitting doctor, what am I in hospital for today... In answer to the last question the facetious me wants to answer "those creamy, salt-smothered scrambled eggs you serve the day after an operation" but, alas, sensible my tells them they'll be upgrading Thelma & Louise for some younger, more synthetic models (no, I don't normally name parts of my body but I'm clutching at a little dignity).

They then put me in my bed and the most extraordinary measures commence to promote blood flow. Firstly, they squeeze me into some very tight socks which are then covered by white inflatable leg-warmers.  Much like a blood pressure test (although not quite as tight), these leg-warmers squeeze your legs.  There are three sections to each leg-warmer and they soon settle in to a rhythmic massage inflating then deflating up my left leg, then the right.  Finally a big blue synthetic blanket is put over me and a heating duct plugged into the end.  Hot air is blown into the blanket and in no time at all I'm enveloped in the most delicious warmth.

With the air blowing, the leg-warmers pumping and the nurses flicking through paperwork I find the beginnings of an awesome percussion rift.  The musical interlude is interrupted by the surgeon's nurse asking me the standard questions.  I answer her in record time and settle back in to imagining Ed Sheeran groovin along to my Hospital Beat.  But then nurse #3 (the anesthetist's nurse) demands answers to the same standard questions.  Don't get me wrong, I have no problem with all the checking.  After all, you wouldn't want to be accidentally putting a couple of bolt-ons on Mr Jones in Bed 5!

Finally, we're ready for the main act.  I am wheeled into a tiny little pre-op room where I am momentarily left in peace to contemplate what is actually about to happen.  The anesthetist strolls in and introduces himself.  I try desperately to listen to what he is saying but can't shake the undercurrent of indignation I feel toward him given the only correspondence he (or his rooms) managed before this moment was a TEXT message asking me to confirm I'll pay $1000 in addition to his medicare and private health insurance covered fees.  I smile politely at Mr $1000 and hope that in a few moments time I won't be thinking or remembering anything.

A procession of people breeze in and out of the pre-op room - the breast surgeon, her assistant, the plastic surgeon, his nurse and then finally the anesthetist's nurse.  And throughout all these 'visits' is the backdrop of clunking metal equipment on metal trays.  "How many knives do they need?!" I ask the latest nurse.  "Ah yes, sorry about this" she smiles "The last surgery ran a little over so you've had to wait here an unusually long time".  Oh, how I dislike that word unusual now!  65 minutes later, Dr $1000 finally returns and administers that 'little scratch' that sends me off to sleep.

I have neither the stomach, nor the knowledge to document what happened over the next 4 hours...but when I woke up there were strange inflatable bags on my chest and drain tubes stitched in to my side. These tubes ended with clear plastic bottles diligently collecting the blood and fluid draining from my wounds.  The site of these bottles made me want to puke so I did the only thing I know how to do in such medical environments - not take it all that seriously!  Instead, said bottles, have been knighted Sir Strawberry and Sir Raspberry and they are the key to me getting out of hospital..... TO BE continued.

Tuesday 21 July 2015

Can relaxing your mind fuel your body? Meditation part #4

I can now tick off the list 'learn how to meditate'... I've officially completed a four day course with a highly (and 'traditionally') trained meditation expert (who I have affectionately named Dr Calm).

The course was one on one and was completed in her home.  It was intimidating and potentially useless if I didn't discard my judgements! As I walked into her apartment in an appropriately alternative suburb in Melbourne I was greeted with the smell of cats. I was asked to remove my shoes and was guided into a tiny little room with futon couch, waterfall pictures and burning incense.   The swish swish of her corduroy pants made me smile.

The flowers, fruit and white cloth I was asked to bring were all used in an ancient ceremony that empowered Dr Calm to find my mantra.  She whispered a strange word in my ear three times - this was my mantra, this was my invitation to the world of meditating...  And to counterbalance the growing image of levitating monks from your mind, I must admit Dr Calm also spent a substantial amount of time explaining the science behind and physical benefits of meditation, including sharing some referral success stories she had been involved with in psychiatric patients.

Now it is up to me - I can dismiss her and her teachings as mumbo jumbo or I can give it a go.  There seems little downside to me.  Twice a day for 20 minutes I get to have a space where no demands are placed on me physically or mentally.  No bums to wipe, no tears and tantrums to placate, no reports to write, no future plans to make.  A growing awareness of my body and a blossoming appreciation for the here and now.  It's all good - so what's stopping me....NO, don't say it!!  I'm too busy to... How am I going to find 20minutes twice a day?!

Monday 20 July 2015

Healing - a step forward, a step backwards!

Amidst the meditation lessons, diet changes and supplements research the giant hand of western medicine strikes again!  With one simple blood test my healing path is jolted in a different direction.  You see I finally have something in common with Angelina Jolie - a BRCA gene.  What does this mean?  Even if I treat the existing cancer I have a high chance of another new one forming.  The 'best' option I have to help myself is a bilateral mastectomy (and reconstruction).

My initial reaction is to say "of course, get rid of them if they're going to kill me!" but then you allow that awful Dr Google to creep in.  I've read some of the most amazing and inspirational stories of women who have "fought off" their genetic predispositions...however these success stories are few and far between whereas there are thousands of successful "Angelina" cases.   I have the chance to improve my odds exponentially and I like the sounds of that :)

So once again, Dr I/M is relegated to the back of the queue (I can just see her Dr Emmett hair shaking in frustration ;) and I'm focusing on Horse #7 "best rack in the nursing home"!

Friday 10 July 2015

Meditation Part #3 - Hare Krishna and/or ultra-successful

The mindfulness discovery path I'm on is now literally smelling like roses....quite a transformation from attempt #1

You see, I've been asked to bring the following to my first meditation class:
* A bunch of fresh flowers - at least six
* Two or three pieces of fresh, sweet fruit
* A piece of new white cloth – a new white handkerchief is perfect

So - what are you thinking (honestly!)?  Have I got myself caught up with a quasi Hare Krishna group...I'll be wearing orange and bald in no time (oh, hang on - I've already satisfied that ;)    Or do you think it's wise to broaden my perspective?  Perhaps I may have stumbled upon the answer of how to keep all those little buckets of life full and happy?!

Monday 6 July 2015

Meditation - attempt #2: time to call in the reinforcements

My first attempt at meditation was...how do I put this delicately, well, it was dreadful!

Once my body was comfortable and my breathing rhythmic I found it almost impossible to control my mind!  It was like the comfort and quietness fuelled a thousand thoughts. My brain was celebrating having space to think creatively and without interruption. Instead of relaxing and "consciously bringing awareness to the here and now", I was off and racing - imagining a month long holiday in Hawaii, writing a book, learning to ice skate (why would I need this skill in Australia?!), inventing healthy chocolate, seeing the Pyramids...you name it - anything but stillness.  Some will analyse me and say perhaps I am fearful of what I might find in the quietness or perhaps I lack discipline or perhaps I merely replicated how I currently live my life - busy!

Either way, it didn't take much for me to determine I needed help with this! So on Monday I went to see a meditation "expert" (let's call her Dr Calm).  It was a meet 'n greet, no pressure to buy just a genuine conversation about what meditation is and why people practice it.  If I liked Dr Calm we could go ahead with a course... The more relaxed sales pitch ;)

Whilst Dr Calm did embody all the adjectives you would expect - calm, kind, considered, she was also refreshingly intelligent, well-read and relevant.  She told me how it's not easy to brake suddenly at high speed.  We have to allow ourselves to pause long enough to relax.  It's a really hard skill to develop in a world where everyone and everything expects you to be busy.  Busy is associated with accomplishment.

"But aren't you just adding another thing on your plate by meditating twice a day?" I ask perplexed.

"Yes, in theory." Wow! She was honest. "But many clients say that meditation enables them to think clearer, sleep better, worry less and enjoy more."

Somehow the next 40 minutes disappeared as I learned about the benefits of meditation.  The strange thing was it never really felt like a sales pitch, it was clear this lady really believed in what she was doing.  Although perhaps that was the sales pitch?!  We also briefly did some postural and breathing awareness which managed to wipe the memory of my first 'soiled' attempt at meditation (for those that read my first post on meditation please excuse the lowbrow pun)

"How much is the course?" I ask tentatively
"It's a week's wage"
"I'm sorry?"
"I find it fairer to charge people in proportion to what they can afford. Don't let money be the reason you say no.  I had one lady pay me $20 a week for a year!".
"But couldn't people just say they earn...well, not much!"
"Yes, they could" Wow again!!  She assumed honesty in others.

So Dr Calm's convinced me - I begin a four day course on Thursday.  Here's hoping I can turn this automatic pilot off!

Thursday 2 July 2015

Hat #3 - animal instincts

Funky Friday: Hat #3 - Actually it's not a hat...it's a scarf!