Showing posts with label End of life Counseling. Show all posts
Showing posts with label End of life Counseling. Show all posts
Tuesday, September 29, 2020
Rerun Travelogue for the Universe: "When you go for end of life Counseling,
Travelogue for the Universe: "When you go for end of life Counseling,: Leave your walker or assistive device in the car," I heard on the Radio the other morning. So continues the debate. Here is my viewp...
Monday, August 17, 2009
"When you go for end of life Counseling,
Leave your walker or assistive device in the car,"
I heard on the Radio the other morning.
So continues the debate.
Here is my viewpoint about the "urgent" healthcare ruckus.
I sent to Senator Leahy and this is not a political statement.Hey, and Why would politicians dictate my healthcare system?
I am an RN Case Manager with almost 30 years experience working in Vermont between hospital, subacute, nursing home, insurance/HMO, long term care and home based care. That is in spite of low wages initially and tough conditions.I was laid off in 1996 because I was under 40 and the legislature protected the elder workers.I have recently lost over 40 thousand dollars in my retirement/savings, was denied disability insurance 3 days after my MS diagnosis and lost a bundle-on legal expenses from a court fight. But I never wrote you before that I recall.Maybe I was just stunned by circumstances.But I write you now, not angrily, but passionately, that you must not pass legislation that promises to fix the health care system in a thousand pages.My healthcare is pretty good now so please stop saying how broken it is. I agree with Medicaid waivers because I work for Vermont's Choices for Care. And yet I disagree with the generous financial loopholes where large assets are hidden and passed to others while I visit other starving or homeless Vermonters and pay very high taxes.Managed care is not something to be undertaken lightly. I worked for Kaiser and believed in our concepts but still it soured my stomach to turn down a circumcision because the child wasn't the right age.I have cared for Canadians who had to wait or spend their dollars in the US to get our level of care.And please support tort reform. Not only for health care. But also in cases like ours, where we lost so much.Finally, I must remain in my present health care support system. Do not change one thing. Add a catastrophic+preventive system for the poor. Vermont has an ideal system. I fear we will not be able to afford it much longer.Aren't you better off really studying what is working, who is happy, and who needs what? Then make incremental changes. Do not doubt we have the best health care system in the world. This means more to me than money or time. That is why I write today, not out of anger. My anger is gone since diagnosed with MS. I do not have the time for anger. Mary Gerdt RN
I heard on the Radio the other morning.
So continues the debate.
Here is my viewpoint about the "urgent" healthcare ruckus.
I sent to Senator Leahy and this is not a political statement.Hey, and Why would politicians dictate my healthcare system?
I am an RN Case Manager with almost 30 years experience working in Vermont between hospital, subacute, nursing home, insurance/HMO, long term care and home based care. That is in spite of low wages initially and tough conditions.I was laid off in 1996 because I was under 40 and the legislature protected the elder workers.I have recently lost over 40 thousand dollars in my retirement/savings, was denied disability insurance 3 days after my MS diagnosis and lost a bundle-on legal expenses from a court fight. But I never wrote you before that I recall.Maybe I was just stunned by circumstances.But I write you now, not angrily, but passionately, that you must not pass legislation that promises to fix the health care system in a thousand pages.My healthcare is pretty good now so please stop saying how broken it is. I agree with Medicaid waivers because I work for Vermont's Choices for Care. And yet I disagree with the generous financial loopholes where large assets are hidden and passed to others while I visit other starving or homeless Vermonters and pay very high taxes.Managed care is not something to be undertaken lightly. I worked for Kaiser and believed in our concepts but still it soured my stomach to turn down a circumcision because the child wasn't the right age.I have cared for Canadians who had to wait or spend their dollars in the US to get our level of care.And please support tort reform. Not only for health care. But also in cases like ours, where we lost so much.Finally, I must remain in my present health care support system. Do not change one thing. Add a catastrophic+preventive system for the poor. Vermont has an ideal system. I fear we will not be able to afford it much longer.Aren't you better off really studying what is working, who is happy, and who needs what? Then make incremental changes. Do not doubt we have the best health care system in the world. This means more to me than money or time. That is why I write today, not out of anger. My anger is gone since diagnosed with MS. I do not have the time for anger. Mary Gerdt RN
Friday, August 7, 2009
Summer Darkness
Better Forget
by Mary E. Gerdt
all rights reserved
Hot and sticky.
The weather had finally changed from the bitter cold to now the unbearable heat.
How are we to continue to tolerate this misery?
My sweat stung my eyes as I looked to the far horizon. I shook my head to refocus.
No sign.
I look in the opposite direction.
Nothing.
Don’t think about thirst. Those thoughts would not leave me alone.
Pain.
Sometimes sharp. Sometimes dull.
Sometimes pleasurable in a sick sort of way.
Pain better than thirst.
Voices.
Were they real?
Are they friendly?
They are too far away to tell.
My voice will not respond.
I am so parched.
A little squeak.
Smaller than a mouse cry.
Smaller than a mosquito buzz.
Surely they cannot hear me.
Lights.
Are they real? Is that the sun? Or some delusions.
They hurt my eyes but I want to stare at them.
They have rings around them. Halos.
Am I dead yet?
Dizzy.
How can I be dizzy lying down?
I feel I am floating but this hard ground reminds me I am on the desert floor.
A sore nags at my back side. Pain again. Stinging.
Rushing
I feel I am rushing here and there. Flying in a way.
No pain for a minute.
Flashes and needles and little noises.
Beeping noises like a smoke alarm.
Loud then soft.
Soft then loud.
Sleeping.
How could I sleep when I am dying?
Wasting living time.
Why not when it hurts so much to be awake?
Movement.
I can’t move.
Something must be broken.
Pains here, then there, then gone again.
If I could raise an arm I could call the voices over to help.
Crying.
I feel tears drop like rain. Little sad voices overhead. Is that an angel?
Pain then none.
Sleep.
Let me go.
Remember.
Remember when I was alive and well and fighting the battles of life.
Remember when I smiled and laughed and cried and wondered.
When we loved and were loved and lost and gained.
And
Forget
Those days in ICU when my parched bloated body looked horrible.
When you saw my pain in grimaces and questioning looks.
“Why me?”
When you wondered if I had pain, was dizzy, could I cry?
Yes, but forget those days.
Better you forget.
notes: This poem refers to my projection of what an ICU patient experiences after 8+ years as an ICU nurse observing all forms of illness, delirium, end of life. There has been much MS Blogger activity discussing end of life issues. This poem is one of my imaginary ends.
Not good nor bad, I guess it is some of both.mary
by Mary E. Gerdt
all rights reserved
Hot and sticky.
The weather had finally changed from the bitter cold to now the unbearable heat.
How are we to continue to tolerate this misery?
My sweat stung my eyes as I looked to the far horizon. I shook my head to refocus.
No sign.
I look in the opposite direction.
Nothing.
Don’t think about thirst. Those thoughts would not leave me alone.
Pain.
Sometimes sharp. Sometimes dull.
Sometimes pleasurable in a sick sort of way.
Pain better than thirst.
Voices.
Were they real?
Are they friendly?
They are too far away to tell.
My voice will not respond.
I am so parched.
A little squeak.
Smaller than a mouse cry.
Smaller than a mosquito buzz.
Surely they cannot hear me.
Lights.
Are they real? Is that the sun? Or some delusions.
They hurt my eyes but I want to stare at them.
They have rings around them. Halos.
Am I dead yet?
Dizzy.
How can I be dizzy lying down?
I feel I am floating but this hard ground reminds me I am on the desert floor.
A sore nags at my back side. Pain again. Stinging.
Rushing
I feel I am rushing here and there. Flying in a way.
No pain for a minute.
Flashes and needles and little noises.
Beeping noises like a smoke alarm.
Loud then soft.
Soft then loud.
Sleeping.
How could I sleep when I am dying?
Wasting living time.
Why not when it hurts so much to be awake?
Movement.
I can’t move.
Something must be broken.
Pains here, then there, then gone again.
If I could raise an arm I could call the voices over to help.
Crying.
I feel tears drop like rain. Little sad voices overhead. Is that an angel?
Pain then none.
Sleep.
Let me go.
Remember.
Remember when I was alive and well and fighting the battles of life.
Remember when I smiled and laughed and cried and wondered.
When we loved and were loved and lost and gained.
And
Forget
Those days in ICU when my parched bloated body looked horrible.
When you saw my pain in grimaces and questioning looks.
“Why me?”
When you wondered if I had pain, was dizzy, could I cry?
Yes, but forget those days.
Better you forget.
notes: This poem refers to my projection of what an ICU patient experiences after 8+ years as an ICU nurse observing all forms of illness, delirium, end of life. There has been much MS Blogger activity discussing end of life issues. This poem is one of my imaginary ends.
Not good nor bad, I guess it is some of both.mary
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