{"id":3371,"date":"2010-04-25T12:00:00","date_gmt":"2010-04-25T12:00:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/care-givers.com\/articles\/sceambled-leggs-bed-pan\/"},"modified":"2021-06-23T15:56:58","modified_gmt":"2021-06-23T15:56:58","slug":"scrambled-leggs-bed-pan","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/care-givers.com\/articles\/scrambled-leggs-bed-pan\/","title":{"rendered":"Scrambled Leggs: Bed Pan"},"content":{"rendered":"

Scrambled Leggs: Bed Pan<\/p>\n

Back in Ward Misery, the feeling of dry wood splinters,
\nhangnails and paper cuts with a dousing of lemon juice reverberated
\nfrom my ribs to my toenails. Forlorn and haggard, I waited for more
\ntest results. However, unlike the TV show \u201cHouse,\u201d my test results
\ncould not be spun around in a science lab designated for me alone and
\nshot back before the commercial.<\/p>\n

Does misery have no bounds?<\/p>\n

Why do I ask questions I already know the answer to?<\/p>\n

A nurse arrived with a large \u2018paper package tied up with
\nstring.\u2019 She ripped off all of the paper and handed me an item.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat is this?\u201d I said holding up what appeared to be a
\nplastic gelatin mold.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt is a bedpan.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd I sit on this, how?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJust hop up and slide it under you.\u201d<\/p>\n

Someone alert the Surgeon General: there is an epidemic of
\nstupid going around the hospitals of America, maybe the world, for all
\nI know.<\/p>\n

\u201cI can\u2019t actually hold up my entire body with my one wrist
\nwhile sliding a Harriet Homemaker brownie pan under my nether
\nparts.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy don\u2019t you try.\u201d<\/p>\n

And before I could say, \u2018why don\u2019t I try to put this where
\nthe sun don\u2019t shine for diddly squat,\u2019 she was gone.<\/p>\n

What I held in my hand was an aqua blue plastic dish 3
\ninches deep, 4 inches wide and 7 inches long. It was kidney shaped for
\nno anatomical reason (male or female) that I could ever determine. The
\ntop edges were square, not round\u2026think about that. Without a doubt,
\nsomeone with less brain matter than a single
\ncell amoeba, down in accounting, had decided that
\ndisposable plastic bedpans were better than disinfecting the lovely old
\ncontoured, sculpted metal ones that actually worked and seldom spilled.<\/p>\n

Either that or \u2018Brian Bookkeeper\u2019 was bribed with a game of
\ngolf and a hooker. Having been in purchasing for a spell, not to
\nmention now being a product user (and at that, no doubt, as an \u2018early
\nadopter\u2019 of a still-in-progress prototype) I knew this model bedpan was
\nnot chosen because it was a stellar product. And may I point out that
\nall the current users were not in a \u2018position\u2019 to complain. If I had
\nknown what the \u2018new-improved\u2019 bedpans were like I would have brought my
\nown.<\/p>\n

Not only was getting on top of the new model bedpan a feat
\nworthy of the Flying Wolenskis, I was soon to discover that square
\nedges were\u2026 have you been thinking of the answer?<\/p>\n

Sharp!<\/p>\n

Here\u2019s how it went down. I had finally worked onto my side
\nin a mere fifteen minutes. Next I grabbed the bars of my bed, then
\npushing I rolled back to straddle this so-called bedpan. The pain
\nregistered a 7 on the Richter Scale. It turned out that while I could
\nnot move my extremities, my skin surface was sensitive enough to detect
\npain from the air disturbance caused by a moth\u2019s sneeze in Timbuktu.<\/p>\n

Howling like an animal caught in a snap trap I wrangled the
\nbedpan from my ample fanny and threw it against the wall. My only
\nregret being that it was still empty.<\/p>\n

The next shift nurse came in six hours later and retrieved
\nthe pan.<\/p>\n

\u201cI can\u2019t use that thing,\u201d tears welled in my eyes from the
\nmemory of it.<\/p>\n

\u201cJust relax and let nature take its course.\u201d<\/p>\n

Holy cow, I am having a hard time lifting my entire body
\nwith my arms over a custard cup area without tipping it over, or
\nactually touching it. And then, while I look like I am auditioning for
\nCirc Du Soleil, I am also supposed to relax?<\/p>\n

And as far as \u2018nature taking its course\u2019, can you say
\nmountain lion and baby rabbit? Nature devours those who are weak and
\nfeeble. That would be me. Try Alaska, if you want a pan full of liquid
\ngold!<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s not working for me. What if you just catheterize me
\nand we get back to the discussion about more pain meds.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOkay, but I have to scan your bladder first.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPlease do that, now!\u201d She was young enough that my voice
\nactually stimulated a smidgeon of fear in her. She returned with a
\nstainless-steel machine on a wobbly cart. She then coated my abdomen
\nwith a substance that can only be described as cold snot. She passed
\nsome metal do-hickey around and looked up at a monitor. She adjusted a
\nfew knobs and repeated the process. (This is never a good sign.)<\/p>\n

Then without thinking she blurted out, \u201cOh, sh#%! You have
\n2,500 CCs in your bladder. Why didn\u2019t anyone check you before? You
\ncould\u2019ve had kidney failure!\u201d (I was to learn later, that amount was
\nabout four times too much.) Then turning from the machine to me, she
\nglared.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy didn\u2019t you tell someone you felt bloated?\u201d<\/p>\n

That\u2019s right, blame the patient for the problem. It
\nwouldn\u2019t have anything to do with the fact I can\u2019t f-e-e-l anything
\nfrom the waist down?<\/p>\n

Yes, and I can see how appreciative you and your staff
\nwould be if I started ordering you to do this test and that. I\u2019ll make
\nanother note to myself: monitor your own urinary and bowel tract and
\nyour fluid intake. And what the hey, I\u2019ve got nothing but time, how
\nabout I monitor your stock portfolio and send in suggestions to your
\nMutual Fund Director.<\/p>\n

Not wanting to be the nurse of record on duty when yet
\nanother patient died, she ordered a catheter and had it in place in
\nrecord time. And since, my bowels weren\u2019t budging I had no reason to
\nget back on that Pandora\u2019s box of bedpan pain. Halleluiah! I was
\nexhausted, surely it was nap time.<\/p>\n

That at least must have been the way the authorities saw it
\nbecause the next thing you know I was also issued a grade-A, first
\nedition morphine pump. Now you must understand, to get one of these you
\nhave to be in major pain, (or as previously indicated, be a major pain
\nin someone\u2019s neck or both). I\u2019ve always prided myself on multi-tasking.<\/p>\n

Scrambled Leggs: Morphine Magic
\nHere\u2019s the scientific way they surmise how much pain you
\nare in. They ask you on a scale of 1 to 10, 10 being the worst, how
\nmuch pain are you in. Yep, that\u2019s it. Now remember, pain killers are
\naddictive and yet, you, the patient, decide how much you need. This was
\nespecially scholarly since I had already been \u2018using\u2019\u2014as they say in
\nthe AA program\u2014for several days.<\/p>\n

It\u2019s a dance with the devil for sure. I am not at a 10,
\nthat was childbirth and having Thanksgiving with family-in-laws. I\u2019m
\nnot at a 1 that would be breaking a nail near the quick or showing up
\nto a party in the same outfit as the hostess (a score of 5 if she looks
\nthinner in it). I know\u2026I could keep screaming until I have enough drugs
\nto shut me up. And so my pain mitigation strategy was born.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s an 8.\u201d I figured 8 was just shy of the need for
\nelectroshock therapy.<\/p>\n

I only knew one person who had been through shock therapy.
\nThe best she could describe it was that you have emotional pain, but
\nthen they zap that part of your brain that remembers it. So poof, it
\nwasn\u2019t painful (except of course for those reoccurring zany nightmares
\nof a dragon chasing you through a cave and cornering you and scalding
\nyou alive and then clawing you to death).<\/p>\n

So an 8 it was and before you could say nighty-nite, I had
\nmorphine drip, drip, dripping on down the IV line AND a pump. That
\nmeans I was feeling drowsy from the inside out. And when I felt the
\nslightest friction on my skin, even as slight as a cloud\u2019s shadow
\nthinking of hovering over me, I reached up and squeezed the pump which
\nresembled a suction bulb, the kind you use to get snot out of a baby\u2019s
\nnose. In this case the baby was getting the snot pushed into her veins,
\nzing-a-ling-ling.<\/p>\n

I was in one of my stupefied drugged twilight states when a
\nnurse arrived with a syringe. She grabbed my IV tube and thrust the
\nneedle in and jammed the plunger down as if she was taking the bad guys
\nout in a game of Nintendo. The substance hit my vein as fast as a comet
\nburning through the atmosphere. Immediately I felt my throat swelling
\nup, along with my nostril and ears. It was like getting bitten by a
\ntwo-step viper (or so they tell me).<\/p>\n

I lurched forward from my half upright pillow-propped
\nposition and grabbed as many ice chips as I could find swimming in the
\nbottom of my aqua plastic cup (yes their stemware matches their
\nbedpans). I started banging the tray table like a two year old being
\ntold it\u2019s bedtime.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s the matter with you?\u201d<\/p>\n

If looks could kill, let alone if I could kill\u2026<\/p>\n

\u201cI can\u2019t breath,\u201d I choked out through a thin crevice in my
\nthroat which was closing back up.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat did you say?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCan\u2019t breathe!<\/p>\n

What did you do?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSettle down. That\u2019s a common reaction to steroids.\u201d<\/p>\n

I grabbed the ice water and chugged it.<\/p>\n

The nurse wrote down on my chart: moody and irritable.<\/p>\n

Where in the, blankety, blank, blank is the chart where I
\nget to write down staff behavior? Rude, dismissive, patronizing, and
\ndid I mention\u2026murderous? AND THIS IS A COUNTRY THAT BOASTS THE BEST
\nHOSPITALS IN THE WORLD, SCARY!<\/p>\n

I settled down to think.<\/p>\n

So, Grasshopper, the game is afoot. How many drugs can you
\ntake intravenously and still keep a watchful eye on your personhood
\nagainst the evil white knights? When do you think you can fly away from
\nyour pain on the mystical magic carpet, and when do you bite the bullet
\nand keep a watchful (if not wincing) eye on the menace?<\/p>\n

I decided to try to stay awake for each shift change and if
\nthey didn\u2019t kill me in the first fifteen minutes I was probably safe to
\nsqueeze the devil\u2019s hand (AKA the morphine pump which I had named
\n\u2018Magical Marcy\u2019).<\/p>\n

From talking to friends of mine who are nurses, the
\nhospital bean counters have decided to staff their floors with
\nTraveling Nurses. These are temporary positions which require more
\nsalary and benefits but there are no messy hire and fire problems for
\npersonnel, especially if you use them for busy times and not year
\nround. The advantage to the hospital is lower costs. The advantage to
\nthe patient being cared for by someone who is not invested in the
\ncommunity, may or may not have been honest on their r\u00e9sum\u00e9 and are not
\nparticularly supervised, at least not for annual reviews, is\u2014is what?<\/p>\n

Wait, I am working on this: My costs have gone up, I am
\ncared for by an itinerant caregiver who is here for the surf, sun and
\ninterns, and I get\u2026? Then suddenly a beam of sunlight entered my room
\nand danced across the green vinyl floor. Ah, yes, it all became clear.
\nI get the shaft.<\/p>\n

Scrambled Leggs Excerpt: Wheeling and Dealing, Sally
\nFranz<\/p>\n

What the hospital side of my stay lacked in congeniality
\nand freedom was made up fourfold by the young-hearted, fun loving
\nphysical therapy team. No matter what high-tech machine I was racked
\nonto they were helpful, encouraging and so full of hope it was
\ncontagious. First I was introduced to the bike patterning machines;
\nthey would strap my hands and feet to the machine and then I\u2019d make the
\ncontraption spin by using my hands at first and concentrating on
\neventually using my legs to push.<\/p>\n

Somewhere there was a place in heaven with a roomful of
\nhamsters I\u2019d owned jeering about Karma and getting even with me. \u201cMake
\nthe wheel go.\u201d \u201cFaster, faster.\u201d \u201cLook at her, round and round, she
\nmust really like it, she does it all day long.\u201d \u201cOh, look she\u2019s going
\nover to the water dripping thing, she must be thirsty. Let\u2019s put
\nKool-aide in it\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo Jell-o!\u201d<\/p>\n

Forty-five miles down the hall was the (off)balance room.
\nIt included standing in front of a giant board with little lights all
\nover it. The lights would randomly flash and I had to slap that area
\nwith my hand, while trying to stand without falling. Easy to do before
\nJanuary, now it was (to quote Elmer Fudd)\u201cvow-e, vow-e, twicky. \u201d
\nFortunately whoever had taken me in there had to stand behind me to
\ncatch me, it was a part of their job description: cowcatcher.<\/p>\n

This must be what an acid trip was like. Whoa, dude.
\nFlashing colorful lights, a real sense of falling through time and
\nspace. No wait, I am falling and that\u2019s acid reflux.<\/p>\n

Next was the giant roly-poly work-out ball. The game here
\nwas to be crumbled down on the floor and back yourself up onto a large
\ncircus type ball. I never quite got this one. I did manage to scoot the
\nball across the room and lose my britches. How the hey do slimy seals
\nstay up on those balls? The next game was more fun (for<\/p>\n

the instructor). You were perched on the large ball and had
\nto try and stay on it. If you could do that, the risk factor increased,
\n\u201clift your left foot, now your right, now both.\u201d No doubt, this was the
\nhuman form of pick-up sticks. How many support points could you remove
\nuntil the little lady keeled over on her keister? Look ma, no hands!<\/p>\n

The one regular class I remember with great fondness was my
\nafternoon upper-body class. I had an advantage over the stroke patients
\nbecause both of my arms worked, give or take an infected IV wound. We
\nwere given hand weights and asked to move them in various directions.
\n\u2018Out to the side and back, breathe, good.\u201d In between the breathing and
\nthe swinging, our leader, Cherry, had a contest to see who could tell
\nthe worst joke or pun. People who seemed three sheets to the wind and
\nwaterlogged perked up. It was absolutely hysterical. I know Cherry had
\nus working the full hour, but no one ever complained once the puns
\nstarted flying. Diversion\u2026clever therapy!<\/p>\n

At the end of the room with the punsters was a young man
\nabout twenty years old, easily younger by thirty years than any of the
\nrest of us. Leno had been in a serious car accident and had broken his
\nlegs, hip and pelvis. He was a bit shy, but the aged pun gang cajoled
\nhim into interaction.<\/p>\n

One afternoon when I was grabbing onto a bar in the hallway
\nattempting my first side-step, Leno came walking down the aisle with a
\ncane. I stopped and cheered his progress. He looked at me and said,
\n\u201cThis will be you in a few weeks.\u201d Yeah, right,\u2019 I thought. \u2018I can\u2019t
\nstand by myself for more than ten seconds and he was at least<\/p>\n

35 years younger than I was.<\/p>\n

\u2014<\/p>\n

Having helped out at Special Olympics, I had watched
\nwheelchair basketball and seen paraplegics in those low streamlined
\nrecumbent hand-pedal bikes. I can tell you I never had the slightest
\nurge to sit in a wheelchair. In rehab it was mandatory. In fact, as I
\nmentioned, I was forbidden to get in or out of bed by myself. Once
\nseated, I was only reprieved to use the bathroom, for which I also had
\nto wait for an aide to help me (usually during a commercial break of
\n\u201cSurvivor\u201d).<\/p>\n

In rehab almost everyone was in a wheelchair.<\/p>\n

Outside was a whole different matter.<\/p>\n

They took me outside and around the neighborhood to
\nfamiliarize me with what it would be like to be in a wheelchair in the
\nreal world. As a result of this experience I am personally sponsoring a
\nbond to fix the sidewalks in our town. The next time you walk down a
\nsidewalk, think about doing it on wheels and notice those roots pushing
\nup the cracks. Here\u2019s a hot tip, kids on skateboards may like ramps,
\nbut not so many wheel chairbound people do.<\/p>\n

Why? It\u2019s hard to get up speed to \u2018get air\u2019 and falling out
\nis not an option. (Boy, oh boy, making fun of that TV commercial, \u201cHelp
\nI\u2019ve fallen and I can\u2019t get up\u201d has come back to \u2018bite me\u2019 in spades.)<\/p>\n

Madge picked me up for my ramp lesson. In the back of the
\nbuilding was a nice sloped ramp for wheelchairs. We\u2019ve all seen them.
\nWe\u2019ve all heard the moaning about how expensive it is to put in
\nwheelchair ramps for a few people to use, blah, blah, blah.<\/p>\n

Speaking now as one of those few, and might I add quality,
\npersons who has used a wheelchair, even a gradual ramp is no great
\nshakes. Excuse me for being ungrateful. A ramp makes a lot of sense, it
\nbeats stairs for sure. But here\u2019s the problem I ran into (so to speak).
\nYou can\u2019t make a ramp gradual enough (which means long enough) to
\nactually get up it with minimal effort, say with your big toe or nose.<\/p>\n

Why, you may ask, is it so hard, especially if you have
\nyour arms to push with?<\/p>\n

The answer: NO BRAKES!<\/p>\n

That\u2019s right, on your run-of-the-mill, hospital issued
\nstandard hand-powered wheelchair, you push-push-push yourself along.
\nAnd you push-push-push yourself up that ramp. And woe be to the poor
\nschmoe who runs out of steam halfway up the ramp. I found this out of
\ncourse\u2026half way up the ramp.<\/p>\n

No anti-rollback braking system and no hand brakes on the
\nchair arms, like on a bicycle. What they do have is an \u2018emergency type\u2019
\nlock to keep the wheels in place once you are parked somewhere,
\nanywhere, that is close to level or half-a-bubble-off- plumb! These
\n\u2018hold\u2019 brakes consist of flat metal rods looking much like butter
\nknives which are perpendicular to the inch wide threadbare rubber on
\nthe tires.<\/p>\n

One can just imagine the fun of trying to let go of the
\nsides of your wheels where you have been pumping away, while
\nsimultaneously grabbing both emergency breaks and trying to assert
\nequal pressure so as to stop evenly.<\/p>\n

This, of course, would pit your arm and hand strength
\nagainst your own weight and the weight of the metal chair plus gravity
\non an incline while testing the level of the break system metal fatigue
\n(and your own). I\u2019m no physics wiz, but I can tell you from field
\nexperiments, this is \u2018No Contest\u2019. It is akin to breaking a ten-sped
\nbike on a hill with only one hand break with your fat cousin on the
\nhandlebars. Alley-Ooop!<\/p>\n

Here\u2019s a quick question, can you bench-press your own
\nweight plus a wheelchair? Can you do it after being flat on your back
\nin a hospital for three weeks? Can you do it on an angle with your back
\nto the lower gravity side? In a box? With a fox?<\/p>\n

Me neither.<\/p>\n

If all this gripping were to coincide as planned, I am
\nstill not sure what would keep me from being propelled backwards out of
\nmy chair, no doubt into oncoming traffic. These and so many other
\npossibilities helped me get up the ramp in one \u2018swell foop!\u2019 I did have
\na back-up plan, the same one I used when rollerblading years before.
\nJust run into the side rails and hope my years in gymnastics would kick
\nin and I would remember how to do a forward roll over the banister.<\/p>\n

On the bright side, I managed the chair like a pro on flat
\nground because turning the wheels in a chair is a lot like canoe
\npaddling. You pull one wheel back while you push the other one forward.
\nSimple enough, thank the good Lord for summer camp\u2026<\/p>\n

Sally Franz 2007<\/p>\n<\/div>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

If you are paralyzed from the waist down,nothing works. Why was that such a hard concept for the nursing staff?<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":5,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[10,5,13],"tags":[],"ppma_author":[938],"class_list":["post-3371","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-care-for-the-caregiver-nurturing","category-caregiver-issues","category-caregivers-experiences-ideas"],"authors":[{"term_id":938,"user_id":0,"is_guest":1,"slug":"sally-franz","display_name":"Sally Franz","avatar_url":"https:\/\/secure.gravatar.com\/avatar\/?s=96&d=mm&r=g","1":"","2":"","3":"","4":"","5":"","6":"","7":"","8":""}],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/care-givers.com\/articles\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3371","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/care-givers.com\/articles\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/care-givers.com\/articles\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/care-givers.com\/articles\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/5"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/care-givers.com\/articles\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=3371"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/care-givers.com\/articles\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3371\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":4335,"href":"https:\/\/care-givers.com\/articles\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3371\/revisions\/4335"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/care-givers.com\/articles\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=3371"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/care-givers.com\/articles\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=3371"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/care-givers.com\/articles\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=3371"},{"taxonomy":"author","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/care-givers.com\/articles\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/ppma_author?post=3371"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}