July 13, 2015
Column: Lessons learned, the hard way
Last winter’s storms forced us all to rethink the rhythm of our lives.
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though stunning sunsets and warm, summer days have muted memories, for many individuals this past winter’s woes persist. Property repairs remain untouched, and personal injuries continue to heal. The Winter of 2015 may be gone, but it is not forgotten. Like tens of thousands of other New Englanders, my humble abode was tested by the historic snowfalls, and it failed miserably. “Majestic” ice dams and four feet of compacted snow on the roof thawed sufficiently to leave water stains throughout the house. A storm window was left dangling from its frame. And a kitchen cabinet became home to a raging waterfall. Lady luck, however, was in my corner. My insurance company quickly responded. Within days, they sent an adjuster and, then, a team of diligent workers, from Minnesota, to steam-melt the ice dams, clear the roof, shovel paths to my doors, and spread ice melt.
With moisture detectors in hand, another team of experts from the “Land of 10,000 lakes” concluded that my kitchen could be salvaged. No major demolition and reconstruction was needed. Yes! “Moderate remediation” was what I sorely needed to hear, because throughout this morass, winter’s second blow had left me incapacitated. A wet, wooden floor, stripped of its soggy mat, took advantage of my momentary distraction. I was down for the count. The force of the fall broke my wrist in the most common of ways, and suddenly I had a disability (a Colles fracture) for which I was ill-prepared. The school of hard knocks, however, was ready with a few lessons. I would like pass these along to health care providers:
Keep in mind that although you deal daily with scores of patients, this may be a first for the patient. Please use both care and empathy.
Take aside the patient who needs help completing the four-page registration form and cannot respond sotto voce. Give her the privacy and confidentiality she deserves and avoid embarrassing her and others in the waiting room.
Provide capless pens!
Upon initial intake, remove all rings from the injured hand so that they don’t become a tourniquet.
When you do grind off the patient’s diamond and gold rings, offer a word of sympathy. And, please, give the patient time to safely store these treasures. This can be quite challenging with only one hand.
Offer to carry the patient’s coat, purse or brace as you move from the holding area to exam room to X-ray to exam room to casting to waiting room.
Without asking, offer a protective, lead apron and collar for every X-ray. Some patients, not only the fertile ones, need protection from excess radiation.
Offer a paper drape to protect clothing from casting dust.
Provide information on dealing with limitations of movement. How do we handle personal hygiene and daily routines with only one hand, for four weeks, and not lift anything heavier than a piece of paper?
Provide recommendations for physical activity and diet. I have learned that calcium and Vitamin D are essential for bone health and that elderly patients deficient in protein have more complications after a fracture, including loss of independence, institutionalization, and even death. Anything else we should know?
Offer suggestions on how to reduce frustration and discouragement. Above all, be aware that a senior, living alone, may need extra guidance and assistance.
I have a few more suggestions for fellow sufferers, especially the ladies: Food: Consume extra calories during the first few weeks because your body needs the fuel. Avoid cans and jars. Buy low-salt, low-fat, prepared entrées, divide them into smaller portions, and cook in a microwave or toaster oven. Buy fruits and vegetables that don’t require cutting. Buy small containers of milk, juice, etc. And don’t forget a special treat. Clothing: Bypass your tight-sleeved cardigans and opt for a shawl or cape. Underwear: You CAN wear a bra. Fasten the snaps first and slip it over your head. Cultivate patience. Personal hygiene: Sponge baths do the trick. Think about getting a professional pedicure. Loosen caps on lotion bottles, toothpaste, etc. Hair: Lower your expectations. No way can you style your hair with one hand. Have a hairdresser or volunteer wash/blow dry/set according to your normal procedures. When you are able, use a lightweight, travel hair dryer. Medicines: The pill caddy, forget about it. You can’t refill it. The most dexterous toes and knees are no match for childproof caps. Enlist a volunteer to loosen them or set up a several-weeks supply. If young children won’t be endangered, switch to regular caps. Emotional well-being: Stay engaged with friends, family members and neighbors. Listen to your favorite music and watch TV comedies or LOL movies to your heart’s content. At my colonoscopy, two days before the accident, I smugly replied that I hadn’t fallen in years. One careless slip later, and I had to think outside the box. Fortunately, aging brains benefit from new challenges. The lingering woes of the past winter will continue to fade. I can only pray that the Winter of My Discontent (and probably yours) will truly be the worst of times. _______________________________ Sally Ann Connolly lives in Danvers