Wednesday, July 19, 2023
I'm doing a bit better every day. I'm exploring using dictation in Google instead of typing with one finger. Typing with one finger caused back pain. This is a better solution, but it is really weird. I've used 10-finger touch typing since I was in 7th grade. I'm used to the words flowing through my fingers. Using dictation is very awkward.
I thought I'd talk a little about what it's like to be confined the way I am through the healing process. I'm confined to a limited number of positions. When I lie in bed, I always have to be in what they call the corpse position, which is flat on my back, unable to turn to either side. I can't turn to the left because that's where the injured shoulder is; I can't turn to the right because the left arm will be suspended, unsupported, and the left shoulder can go into an unfortunate position. It's exhausting. I've been sleeping in the corpse position since June 13th, a full month.
I can sit on a chair since I've been home. When I was in the hospital, They offered it, but I wasn't comfortable. While I sit now that I'm home;, I sit too much.
In my everyday life, my healthy life, I do a lot of sitting too. But I'm constantly up getting something moving, something doing something else, or I'm out for a short walk. Now I do none of that. If I want something, I must ask a helper to get it for me. My condition has improved a lot since I've been off the drugs, the painkillers, and now I can get up and do things for myself. I no longer feel I have to be accompanied every minute and be super cautious so I don't fall over. I'm much steadier on my feet.
I get more movement, but it's still limited. Parts of my body are worn down from constant contact, pressure, and friction. While in the hospital, I was swaddled in a diaper immediately. I couldn't get out of bed, especially on my own, to go to the bathroom. An Aid came in and said, "You're incontinent." I argued because of my everyday life I'm not. I make it to the bathroom in plenty of time. I wear a light day's pad to be safe, but I don't have trouble getting to the bathroom. A nurse asked me why I didn't go to the toilet instead of using the diaper. I thought about it and said, "Let's see. I have the urge to go to the bathroom; I have to find the call button; I have to press the call button. Then I have to wait for someone to answer, which ranges between immediately and never. Once someone answers, I have to communicate through the faulty auditory system that I need to go to the bathroom. Then I have to wait for someone to come. Getting out of bed is a laborious process, taking time. I have to walk to the bathroom very slowly. When I get there, I have to be stripped of the diaper and seat myself on the toilet. I wasn't that continent." The good news is I no longer need the diaper. I can make it to the bathroom just fine on my own. This is good news on so many counts. The diaper, a pull-up, irritates my skin. It is a relief to be out of it and wear all-cotton briefs with a cotton pad inside. For those who don't know, Costco sells cotton incontinence pads. Nothing to be sneezed at, wonderful, wonderful cotton.
I'll start dating the entries. Today is July 17th. I had my accident on June 13th. It's been over a month now. It's been an ordeal. It's also been an interesting experience. I can't say I regret it;. Each day brings little victories. I ditched the diapers, which were breaking down my skin and the worst way. That material that's made out of is very irritating. I wear my cotton Underpants with a cotton pad that I don't really need. That achievement is a few days old. Today I had a new victory.
The occupational therapist came. She's good. She doesn't just give me exercises to do on my own; she also manipulates my arm at the wrist, the elbow, and the shoulder. Somewhere along the line, she injured her back. The hospital bed couldn't be raised high enough for her comfort. But the bed I usually sleep in was higher. To accommodate her, I had to lie with my head at the foot of the bed. That was fine. It was an absolute delight to lie on that mattress again. It even got better than that. She wanted to work on my left scapula, the wings on my back. I had to turn onto my right side for her to reach them. I didn't even know I was allowed to do that. Oh my God, what a treat to lie on my right side. It felt like absolute heaven.
The doctor's office called today. I thought it was to confirm my appointment for Friday at 11:30. But no, it was to offer me one tomorrow at 11:00. I grabbed it. I asked the secretary to hold on to my Friday appointment because we are expecting a hurricane. The Big Island has never been hit by a severe hurricane. We have occasionally had some Shoreline damage to homes and businesses, but it's never gone beyond that. There's always the next time; there's always another chance. You can't count on it never hitting. Three of the island's five mountains protect Kailua Kona. Someday each of those mountains will command its own island as time wears down the ground between the mountains. We'll see what kind of weather this hurricane brings us. I asked the receptionist to hold on to the Friday appointment in case we couldn't make it tomorrow.
I made it to the appointment today with my surgeon for a follow-up exam. She said I was doing well but had to wait until 12 weeks after the surgery before I could drive. Great, not. She took my bandages off and expressed surprise that nobody else had done it. Who knew that it was okay to take them off. Two weeks ago, her colleague replaced the original bandages and implied that I had to wait until I saw Dr. Chang, the doctor who performed the operation, before removing them. It felt very liberating to be rid of them. She also told me I only had to wear the sling in public to warn people that I had an injured arm so they avoid bumping into me. The doctor expressed surprise that I could piece together 24-hour care at home. Scott may have heard her expressing concern about my ability to get full-time care at home and thought she preferred the Residence care.
After the doctor's appointment, we went directly to Kia to make an appointment to fix the air conditioning. I can't imagine what's wrong with it. Then we went to pick up my computer at Jack B click. That was a simple in and out. The two-month-old computer had been destroyed because water got spilled in it. I know I didn't do it. The care worker was the only other person here then; I assume it was her. She quit the next day. I'm not going to call her on it. I have more money than someone who works for $17 an hour. It's done; it's fixed. I have a new computer assembled at Apple headquarters rather than somewhere in China. Every piece was replaced.
Alohi and I went home directly from the computer store. When we went to put the plug into the outlet to charge my electric car, I couldn't get the door open. As I'd been told to do, I pressed the door opener key twice, and it did nothing. Holy cow, everything that can go wrong is going wrong in my life now. Others have it a lot worse, but it's still stressful. In fact, I'm handling it all pretty darn well.
I am still working with four students, Adolescent D and Mama K's crew of three children. I work with them almost every day. I don't work with all three of Mama K's kids at the end in one session; it would be too much for me. All the kids are making progress.
Adolescent D's improvement is most interesting. As I always suspected, doing 15 minutes daily is more effective than doing half an hour twice weekly. We often skip a day. That winds up being the same set amount of time each week but much more profitably spent. he finally believes in the strategies I'm teaching him and started investing. He's making an effort to follow the steps of the procedures that I've taught him on his own. I don't mean he does it outside of the class. Sadly, adolescent does nothing outside of class. He has an aversion to doing work on his own. It isn't just laziness; it's learned helplessness. But now he's investing in the procedures, and I can see improvement daily.
I don't know if I mentioned another miracle with Adolescent D that occurred a few weeks ago. He had to do a table reading in his theater class. There's no way he could read unfamiliar material without stumbling. He announced to the class, the whole class, that he had problems reading and accepted help from the other students when he got stuck. This is a boy who still hasn't let me see his image on Zoom, who hides his face when he does online classes for school, and who insists on wearing a hat at all times because he hates his hair. Last year, when I said something about the other students in his class knowing he had problems reading, he responded, "I hope not." There is no way that they didn't know; he had his head in the sand. This breakthrough allows this boy to enter the work world with his disability. Now, he can ask his boss to make accommodations and accept whatever accommodations he has to make to complete the work. I consider this a miracle.
Concerning the kids and Mama K's crew, Twin A continues to March ahead. She's reading at a third-grade level with a lot of support. It's not actually support, just the patience to let her read slowly. She can figure it out and reads with a surprising amount of accuracy. Whenever it comes to comprehension, she aces it. Twin E is still struggling on a first-grade level with word accuracy. I'm basically doing the same kind of coaching with her that I'm doing with Adolescent D. I would love to make a video showing how I work with these kids. This is how I drill the strategies and the letter/ sound patterns without using drill cards. Always focusing on what the student needs help with rather than deciding they have to be drilled on everything. It is that drill that Lucy Calkins claims is mind-numbing and soul-killing. This process is neither.
I've worked with fourth-grade-going-into-fifth-grade K on accurate reading accuracy because he gets sloppy. Otherwise, my focus is on comprehension. We worked on one story, and he had to articulate the theme. He had no idea what the word meant. He made a guess but was way off. When I asked him to tell me what he learned from the story, he aced it; he had no problem.
While I was sitting here typing this or dictating it, Alohi, my caretaker during the week, called to ask if I had received the hurricane warning signal. Yep, my phone had screamed at me. It declared that we might be in imminent danger of something, probably nothing terribly destructive. It's hard to be flooded if you live on a hill; everything flows past your house. She said the buses that run on the north-south line she takes to get up here won't be running tomorrow or the day after. She offered to turn around and come back to stay here for the next 2 days. I think she's genuinely concerned. But in addition, she would lose two days' pay. Nothing to be sneezed at. as I wrote this, she was standing on a street corner waiting for the northbound bus to come and pick her up. she called back to report the buses had been canceled for the night in anticipation of the storm. She was standing there with no way to get home or to my house. She called her brother, but he was stuck way north because of a car accident blocking the road. I helped her order an Uber. Uber or apple pay had to verify the account. We had some drama getting the card verified. Aholi and I were on the phone with the bank. The guy was ever so nice. He was doing what he could while Aholi cried, "The crack addicts are coming out of the bushes." she wasn't exaggerating. The homeless live in the bushes and come out at night. Many are mentally ill. It must have been scary. Then she cried, "It went through! I'll see you in an hour."
