Learning Never Ends

I'm thinking that if one isn't learning, then one must also not be breathing.  It seems that I learn something new everyday.  Even when I don't care to because it's something I didn't care to learn.   For instance, I learned today how quickly my two year old can go from happy and healthy to grumpy and sickly.  Yesterday, he was fine.  His appetite had been well as of late (especially for a toddler).  He was mostly content with his surroundings and circumstances.  But today...not so much.  He woke up in a mood that did not agree with him or his parents.  When asked if he hurt, he would point to various parts of his body and with no replicated answer when asked repeatedly to see if we could pinpoint his distress.  But eventually, the abnormal behavior and excessive crying called for the expertise of a medical professional.  There, he was diagnosed with strep throat, and we have him on medicine to get him back to his formally healthy self.

This week, I also learned how to put up mini blinds.  And that there are different types and sizes.  And that are house uses different types and sizes.  And...some are more of a pain to hang up than others.  Because I was in a groove with the first few, and then I had to put up a different kind.  I lost my rhythm.  It took more time than I wanted to devote to it, which made me a little ill.  And then I needed help with the installation from my father.  When he said what he did to get it installed, I realized that my frustration with the process had made it more difficult then it needed to be...(the story of my life.)  My repair skills are below the beginner level I believe.  

I also learned the simple joy of being able to take the aforementioned two year old to the zoo for his first time.  He has several books with animals in them and some of these books make the sounds that the animals make.  But to actually have him see these animals live and up close was a fun experience.  At such a young age, he didn't have much patience to stand and watch the animals.  But he was at least able to recognize and imitate them.  He was able to see them as real creatures and not just pictures in a book.  And he was able to touch them.  How many times do you get to pet a kangaroo?  It may seem simple to most people, but it was a wonderful day.  I look forward to experiencing this again with him as he grows.  

Years ago, I learned how quickly illness could take over one's life when I got sick with Crohn's Disease.  One day I was a healthy teenager.  And it seemed like the next day, I was sicker than I could have ever imagined being.  But unlike my son's bout with strep, this illness wouldn't be alleviated with medication.  For some, the medications prescribed at least seem to offer some relief.  But there is no known cure to be had. 

Like with the mini blinds I mentioned, things aren't always cookie cutter.  The blinds were different sizes and types.  Crohn's has varying degrees of severity.  It affects each person differently.  I learned that the phrase "practicing medicine" is very applicable to the medical world when treating chronic illness and when treating people.  We aren't robots.  We all have our own unique DNA and therefore respond to certain treatments differently.  What may work for one may not work for another and thus the practice of medicine comes into play.  My husband is a basketball coach.  He has his team practice different sets of plays to use at different times of the games.  However, one play may work against one team but not another.  Therefore, his team needs to know the different plays he calls at any given moment.  It still may not work.  But it's a matter of trial and error, and it seems to be that way with medicine.  The one making the calls just has to pick what seems to be the most likely path to achieving the desired result. 

And like with the simplicity and joy of a zoo visit, my journey with Crohn's has taught me the heartache of living with daily pain so that I might be able to fully enjoy the simplicity and joy of living without pain.  Had I not went through all of the hard stuff, had I never been put in the place of having ostomy surgery, I don't know that life as I know it now would have meant what it does now.  Would I have been humble enough to appreciate where I am?  Would I have been able to understand the decisions that people like me have had to make?  I don't think so.  I know there are those who don't understand the idea of having ostomy surgery.  But how can one really understand something they don't physically and emotionally have to deal with?  One can only have empathy in such situations.  But may we all learn to love the simple things. 

What Is It Now?

Well, here's the thing about having a chronic illness: it will always keep a person wondering what's going to happen to you next.  For example, several weeks ago, I wrote about my issue with a partial blockage.  I'm just going along through life trying to eat healthy, watching my carbohydrate intake as I also have Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome to deal with and thus am subject to insulin resistance and (BOOM!), along comes pain that I'd never experienced before, uncertainty as to what to do about it, and educating myself on how to possibly keep it from happening again but still being able to eat within the guidelines that will improve my overall health in the future.

What else keeps me on my toes and wondering when it's going to happen again?  Those nasty leaks from my ileostomy appliance like to happen at times.  I'll go several weeks, months even, and be doing well with wafer adherence and wear time and then (BOOM!), I've sprung a leak.  Most recently, it was after a routine, scheduled, before-bed-time bag change.  I woke up at around 4:00-4:30 in the morning and there's a mess waiting to get even messier.  (Not to mention that I had trouble falling asleep that night and didn't fall asleep but just a few hours before that.  And I would need to be up only a couple of hours after this time.)

Another issue that I've had recently, that was also ostomy related, was some major itching at the wafer site.  My first concern was that it was leaking.  However, it never actually had that feeling.  It was just itching almost non-stop.  For those of you who have an ostomy, you know how impossible it is to scratch an itch under a wafer.  For those of you who don't have an ostomy, imagine how it is to have on laced up shoes, and then have your foot start to itch.  But maybe you're not in a position to remove the shoe to scratch the itch.  Maybe people who've ever had a cast for a broken extremity can relate to this as well.  I had changed my wafer and bag just a couple of days before (I strive for a routine of changing ever five days), but I had to get this itchy thing off.  There was no leak.  I just had some slightly reddened skin.  I cleaned the area well with warm water, dried the area really well and applied my new wafer and bag.  Why did this happen?  I don't know.  The temperature is much warmer now, so maybe it was heat related?


And then there's health insurance.  In the eleven years that I've had an ostomy and have ordered ostomy supplies and with the various health insurance companies I've used and policies that I've had, I've never had a limit on the amount of supplies that I could order.  But earlier this week, I called to order my supplies in bulk (I order supplies in larger quantities once or twice a year) and the individual I talked to said my insurance would only cover enough supplies for one month at a time.  I suppose that since the brand of ostomy supplies I use packages their ostomy bags in a box of twenty, that makes my monthly allotment one box of twenty bags and two boxes of wafers as they are packaged at ten per box.  I find this aggravating. My need for ileostomy supplies is 24/7 for the rest of my life.  My husband pointed out that I should be okay with the allotted amount.  But I don't understand why an insurance company gets to tell me what I need.  It's just another part of dealing with a chronic illness though I suppose.