Yesterday was Friday the 13th, and I do not hold much to superstition but I had to rethink my position when we got to the office of the Nurse Practitioner who was to look at my butt and get me better and the elevator and the office I needed to visit is on the third floor!
My appointment had been for 8:45 and Dianne and I had arrived at the building round 8:30 so we would have ample time to check in and do the paper work: fill outs which need to be done. Well, when we got there I don’t think there was hardly anyone in the building as yet. Now, what happened next was typical but always amazes me. Dianne and I had found a comfortable place to sit and wait till something happened about the correction of the elevator. People began to file in for work as well as other patients for other medical offices in this building. People would come in the building go over to the elevator punch the button and wait. I at this time (at first) would advise them the elevator was not working. Most often then not the person would turn and look at me, smile and turn and punch the button again. I at first thought the person had not heard me so I repeated my comment of disrepair and the same response would happen: a blank look at me and return to the button bunching behavior at which time I would repeat my comment again and then the person would struggle for comprehension then ‘lights would come on’ and then would say something like, “ Oh you said the elevator is not working”. The more this happened the more annoyed I got until I finally took action and found my art tablet and made a sign and stuck the sign onto the elevator. Then I sat back and smirked as the public and staff entered and found they had to rely on the stairs to complete their journey. Following the placement of the sign there was cursing, sighing and at least one staff of some office in the building tuned and stormed out indicating “I am not climbing the f****** stairs!”
The people at my office finally realized I was at the foot of the stairs patiently waiting and came down and for some reason started feeding us pepperment life savers and apologizing to us about their unresponsive elevator. I have to admit I was fairly nervous to begin with coming to the appointment, now I was even getting more nervous. When I get nervous like this I start talking fast and acting silly. I was getting pretty weird. I am just surprised the Dianne did not wonder off and sit on the other side of the room or the van.
The office never did get the elevator repaired while I was in the building. The staff of the Nurse Practitioner (staff) actually negotiated with an office on the ground floor. Brought down a portable massage table and got my examination underway. I did not and do not have a pressure sore—thank god. I have shearing. Shearing is what happens when you tear the flesh usually by dragging the body. This is what I do when I transfer. I have weaken in my old age and no longer make clean, highly elevated transfers. I drag my sorry butt which has caused the shearing. Luckily, for me, this is very manageable and not as serious as a pressure sore or decubitus ulcer would have been. The NP cleaned me up bandaged me and then indicated what she would be doing for me. She wrote out scripts for P.T., a new cushion and medications and best of all since the wound was not from pressure there is no reason I have to stay off my butt. I returned to work for the rest of the day!
This NP sounds great, she is easy to believe in and if she does even half what she has promised I’ll be in great shape a good while to come. And as always…I’ll keep you informed.
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