PICC Line and the Narrow Sojourn of Getting Used to Anything
I am reading Man's Search For Meaning by Victor Frankl. He describes his experience surviving in a NAZI concentration camp. While It's a horrible reference point to have lived through, he shares his insights into why people can do what they do in the most dehumanizing situation. The first insight I connected with is that humans can get used to anything. I didn't want to have permanent IV lines and a stick-on ostomy bag. I went to some extreme surgical effort to rework my internal plumbing to get around my current situation. Now, I accept both the IV PICC lines and the Ostomy appliance. It is a good thing, after all. They have allowed me to function at near-normal parameters. While not in my top 20 list of things I ever wanted to subject myself to, they are the solution providing me the medical results I was looking for: All-day functionality and the ability to leave my house for more than an hour at a time.
Details On The PICC Line
The PICC line is a semi-permanent IV line that runs up inside my arm vein past my shoulder. It allows me to take IV fluids in smaller doses over a week rather than one. I can sit up and pet the dog while I drip a smaller bag of fluids three days a week. The supplies get delivered like a meal kit every few weeks. When not used, I keep the PICC tucked into a fishnet sleeve on my left bicep. Once a week, my home nurse comes and takes my vitals and changes the pressing that covers the insertion area. I will share a picture if you request it. Otherwise, I don't want to trigger needle phobias.
Since the PICC line went into my left arm, I started to have many more functional hours every day. I have been feeling fantastic in comparison to the zombie exhaustion I rationed my life around previously. My days are no longer a narrow sojourn between walking the dog and folding my laundry. Seriously, I could not hold up my arms to fold my tee shirts without a break. Now, I can make plans that extend more than an hour into the future. I am folding shirts and making the bed without a rest break. I could take Joe Biden in a foot race. I wish I had his dental plan.
Back Story
For the last few years, I have struggled to maintain my hydration due to Crohn's disease. It struck me seven years ago this year. The illness is called an autoimmune disease. That means my own body causes the harm. My immune system kicked into overdrive when I was fifty-five. Within a year, it killed my colon, and as time passed, it moved on to attack other parts of my digestive system. There is no cure. However, fortunately, most people who get this illness only deal with flare-ups that drugs and a modified diet can treat. I regularly go to the hospital a couple of times a year to get stabilized enough to be able to say I am sick at home, what I call "Sofa-Sick," which means too ill to work but not sick enough to be in bed all day. This year, we tried something new. It's a long-term IV line allowing me to hook up my IV fluid bag without the nurse or needle. Previously, I had a nurse come to my house. She would stick me 3 or 4 times to hit a functional vein so I could top off my precious bodily fluids. Now, I can give myself the treatment at home.
Ten Thousand Steps
Last week, I started at a new local gym; round-trip walking is three thousand steps. That, along with the treadmill and walking the jindo dog, puts me over my goal of 10k steps a day. It's good practice for when the California Chicken Cafe on Hollywood opens up across the street from the gym. I'll be in shape to walk down to pick up our dinner orders and log 13k steps a day.
Video Editing
My husband wants to do online content, so when he comes up with an idea, I have been tracking down the skill set to pull it off. I mastered editing down a video to start while adding audio from another source to synchronize the content. It is a lot like rubbing your tummy while padding your head. Add dizzy, and you can feel my frustration when it took several tries to get it lined up just right.
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