Looking Back to Last Year: Hard Won Lessons.

As this year comes to a close, it is natural to look back over all that has happened in the past twelve months.  As I do look back and remember, I have to acknowledge that this past year has been one of the most difficult years of my life. In the past twelve months, many things happened that changed my perspective on my life.  

In February, I was hospitalized with a near fatal kidney infection which became septic and caused damage to my kidneys, liver, bladder, and heart. I spent two weeks in the hospital moving from ICU to the GI ward, and then finally released into home nursing care. It took another four months to recover from the sepsis causing me to have to have a central venous catheter port implanted under my collarbone in June. The central port was implanted because I am now dependant on receiving most of my nutrition, fluids, vitamins, medications, lipids, fats and proteins from an IV connected to an artery just above my heart. This is a huge change in my daily life; a milestone moment in my medical condition. Becoming dependant on partial or total parenteral nutrition is one of those milestones that signals my condition has gotten far worse.  It is comparable to a cancer patient being told they have moved from stage III to stage IV with most research pointing to a 3% survival rate beyond five to six years.  If fact that is how my doctor’s presented it to me so I could understand the enormity of the situation.

Hospital stay in Febuary, with both service
dogs giving healing

The announcement of my change in condition was a game changing proclamation in my medical treatment.  We moved from discussing how all my treatments were geared to help me live a more normal quality of life to now discussing how all of my treatments are geared towards delaying the inevitable.  This is the kind of fundamental shift in perspective that affect every part your life.  I have been keenly aware that my medical condition was not curable and that I was for the most part inoperable, in terms of doing anything to change my situation. Both of my specialists in hematology and gastroenterology are also oncologists and used to handling patients in the later stages and they have been incredibly instructive in how to maintain quality of life while delaying a bowel rupture.  I am not one to place a lot of importance on timelines for survival in medical treatment. I have been told I would die or should be dead in a certain number of months many times previous and I have successfully exceeded my expiration date now three separate times.  So when my medical team discusses timelines I think of them more as guidelines than a hard date. Anyone who has dealt with serious medical condition knows that every person reacts differently to treatment and it is far more important to focus on the daily tasks and how to make each day more livable than to focus on how many months the research says you have left.  Like previous times, I am staying focused on the daily tasks and working on getting through this week and then planning for the next and so on and so on.

At the Infusion Center at Dominican Hospital, April.
With myservice dog, Ellie

Me with Ellie, my service dog during a training
class at Operation Freedom Paws

There is one great thing that a milestone like this does for you; it kicks your need to live in the moment into overdrive. Suddenly the importance of being present becomes very real.  My medical condition has always been a blessing in that sense, by giving me a real honest understanding of mortality at an age early enough to be take advantage of the knowledge and work towards more loving relationships with my friends and family while I still could. It is one of the reasons, why we have never put off traveling. Please don’t misunderstand me – I am not giving up the fight, rather I am focusing on living as much a possible.  The big balance point is how to live as much as possible and not place your body in harms way? For me it turns out to be a precarious balance between treatment and activity.  I am now at a place where I have to plan out every activity on how it fits within my treatment schedule and how my body is doing physically.  That is a fun juggling act when your body does not always cooperate.  For me a weekend trip can cause a week’s worth of needed rest.  So my daily life becomes a bartering game and series of trade offs.

The medical treatment needed to keep me going presently is complex enough to overwhelm most people, but then add on the ridiculous complexities of transitioning from private insurance on to Medicare and you can begin to understand the nonstop battle for medical care that consumed my life from September through the end of the year.  Medicare has a well-known gap in coverage that does not cover home infusion care. As most private insurance companies have come to accept that home infusion is a far more efficient and far less costly way to treat patients who need IV infusions.  Medicare falls behind in not covering this treatment and instead requiring patients to go inpatient to hospitals or nursing homes.  There is current legislation to fix this up for vote in congress, as the national study revealed that this gap in coverage costs Medicare around $80 million annually. As the vast federal program evolved with its complicated coverage components, home infusion fell partly through the cracks. Medicare does cover the actual drugs given in the home. But it pays nothing for the supplies - tubing, bags, needles, pumps - or the administrative, pharmacy, and nursing services that may be involved. This leads to very high out of pocket costs.  I had to buy a very expensive supplemental plan to help me afford to continue the treatment, which I need to survive.  The cost for my treatment now costs me roughly 75% of my total monthly earnings, and will triple my annual costs.  That kind of financial reckoning forced me to reevaluate what was important and rewrite all of my advanced care directives to reflect the new level of financial burden I expect my medical condition will place on my family’s finances over time. 

Me following surgery to implant the central catheter port, in June. Ellie
amazed my surgeon by performing the task to help me lower my BP, he stood
by and watched us work the task and lower my BP 40 points in 5 minutes.
He had never seen a service dog perform a direct medical task, we impressed
him and the staff that day.

Me with my portable IV pump, it is now
my companion monthly, for 10-14 days.

A closer view of the inside of my IV pump - it
all fits inside the R2D2 bag, which rolls.

Between the changes in my medical condition and the transition from private insurance to Medicare most of my concentration has been all used up.  I found myself staying away from social interactions, and I ended up being homebound for the predominance of the year.  It was necessary to do the level of healing and research that had to be accomplished this year, but it took a toll on my friendships.  I had been warned that I would lose most of my friends when I began really sick. In fact nearly every person I spoke to that had experienced the end of life journey from one side or another, the lost of friends was their first lesson to offer me.  I knew it would happen intellectually but experiencing it emotionally is something no one can prepare you for, no matter what they tell you.  Thankfully most of the fall offs have been the expected absences due to life, which are all understandable. But I have had a few unexpected moments that were deeply hurtful, where long time friends somehow decided my need to ask for space in which to heal was some terribly selfish action to become a bad friend.  I fully admit to being less available to be a sounding board or open place to vent friends’ frustrations over their own life issues, in the past year.  I have had to circle my wagons close to focus on caring of my self. I was deeply surprised when one long time friend concluded that I was a tragic drama queen because I could not take the time to listen to their complaints, in a timely manner.  I guess I should have expected it, and I had been warned that something like that would occur but it still hurt when it happened.  It hurt and it taught me a to change my perspective, like everything else did this year.

Jeff with Selah while teaching the training class at
Operation Freedom Paws 

Jeff with Selah, teaching doggie yoga at OFP

This past year has been hard fought and hard won. As I move in to the next year I go with a far different view of what is needed and expected.  I am still trying to live in the present and cultivate loving relationships with people who can have a deeper awareness of what I am facing daily, and offer a support to that process.  I still focus on the daily tasks and being grateful for the myriad of blessings in my life.  I am remarkably blessed to have the unwavering support of my husband through all of  this, together we make a strong team as we journey onward into the days ahead. I am extremely lucky to have his love and support every day.  We are extremely lucky to have the support of our service dogs, and the ongoing training and emotional support from Operation Freedom Paws, which has become such a vital part of our family. 

Some of our extended family at OFP,
at a local event supporting our veterans.

This past year was so very difficult and many mornings were met with a prayer for it all to be done, what kept us both going through it all was the tremendous support from our extended family of the staff and clients of OFP.  They provide a network of people who understand disability and illness and continually remind us of how our lives can still be placed in service to help others, giving our family a purpose beyond the daily medical treatments. I am forever thankful to all my friends, family and extended family, who have been there without question to do the smallest things counting for the largest blessings in our lives.  We could not have made it through this year without those people who have been there to help when I could do nothing more than try to make it through another day. Those people brought us food, watched our home, cared for my husband, keep us sane, washed my hair, send messages and did the smallest of kindnesses; which made the difference in our family giving up hope.  To those of you who have been there, I can never thank you enough for all you gave us, when you had no idea how much it meant.  You are the reasons we are still fighting and still wanting to give what is left of our lives to help others.  

Tomorrow we wake and start the New Year with hopes that next year will be easier and we can benefit from the hard won lessons of the past year.

Jeff with Selah and Myself, with Ellie in my lap. Picture taken by Vicki Topaz, on the set of her sequel to her film project:
Heal! Veteran's Speak about PTSD

Clean Up on Aisle 6: Portable IV Pumps Are Not All That Portable

Today was the first day on my monthly IV treatment, I usually have an IV line inserted into my central port in my chest for 7-10 days to give me hydration and nutrition and medications. This infusion helps keep me from having so many bowel obstructions and long hospital stays. I have been on IV treatment similar to this for 4 years now. Currently I use a CADD prism portable IV pump; that pumps continuously for 24 hours at 100 ml/per hour. Now believe me portable is a misnomer, as you are never really portable with an IV line in your body even with a tiny IV pump that rides inside a rolling bag you are seriously limited in your movement by the tubing that is connected to your body. So it is difficult to go anywhere out side the home, but we had to be at a doctor's appointment. The pump, Power pack and huge bag of Saline (which holds 2500ml is housed inside a backpack that was configured to ride in a converted R2D2 rolling carryon bag. I am very used to using the CADD pump and I started using it because it is superior in safety for me as a closed system. This pump provides a continuous flow over 24 hours with far less chance for air bubbles to occur in the line and less reason to open the line to possibility of infection. With older stationary pumps, you open the line every time you have to change to a new IV bag which with the standard 1000ml bags meant 3 opportunities for infection a day. The high volume tubing on the CADD pump allows for needle-less access in giving meds during the infusion, I no longer have to stop the pump and open the line to inject medications; again this provides less opportunity for infection. These pumps are designed to be portable, they are programed by wifi connection and the data is monitored by your doctor in real time during use from their office while the patient is at home. For most patients who have to have on going infusion treatments, infections and exposure to the bacteria in a hospital setting is extremely dangerous and being able to get treatment at home is not only safer but much less expensive. For me, the hospital is a very dangerous place to be, the infection risk is very serious, so we do as much treatment at home as possible.

Me and My CADD Prism IV pump housed inside my
converted R2D2 rolling carryon bag. We chose this
bag because it is hard sided and holds the system upright
in the best position.The ultra light 4 wheel carrier it
rides on is super strong and functions like a cane when I
need balance and support. If you have to walk around
with an IV pump it, you might as well have it look and
sound like R2D2.

I have always thought of the CADD pumps as virtually bomb proof - super safe and so easy to operate. So easy and safe that I started to forget the potential dangers of having an IV infusion entering just a few centimeters above your heart valve. The port is so simple and clean you forget how close it is to your heart. Today, I learned what a catastrophic failure in the high volume CADD cassette tubing can do to you in a very short time frame. I was nearing the end of my first 24 hours of infusion and had to accompany my husband to doctor's appointment. The medical office was very close to a local military base and we decided to stop at the commissary to buy our groceries.  For those of you who are unfamiliar with shopping at a commissary on a military base, it gives you about a 1/2 price discount on your grocery bill and for us that is a huge deal.

As we enter, I feel a little dizzy and I am trying to manage my rolling IV pump in my right hand and holding my service dog's lead in my left. Having the IV pump and my service dog at the same time, makes riding in a scooter provided by the store impractical. It is easier and safer for me to try and walk when I have both the rolling pump and my service dog. Jeff and I both agreed this would be a short 'surgical strike' into and out of the store taking only a short time. We were both already exhausted but we were also out of milk, and eggs and just about everything at home so a grocery trip was a must. Even though we were both wiped out from the doctor's appointment we decided to take advantage of being so close to the commissary; where we can get our groceries for 1/2 the price. Because I could not ride a scooter when I have both the IV pump and my service dog to handle, we try and do the shopping as quick and with a little walking for me as possible. I learned the hard way how riding a scooter with the IV pump and a service dog can trigger bad things to happen, as I forgot I was tethered to my pump and stood up to reach for something and almost ripped the line out of my body. So now when I am on the IV pump - I choose walk no matter how much it hurts and that is why Jeff reconfigured my IV pump's case to attach to an ultra light 4 wheel carrier that rolls well and acts like a walker to help support and balance me when walking

The IV tubing comes out of the
top of the case and is secured to
handle to keep it safe and out of
way of catching on things.

A few minutes into the store and I start to feel dizzy, which is not uncommon. Ellie is starting to alert me but I don't quite understand what she is alerting for because she is reacting in obedient disobedience. This is a term when your service dog alerts you to a change in your body chemistry by disobeying direct commands that you know they have mastered. They start to disobey the simple things that you both know they have mastered. It usually denotes a big change in body chemistry or that something is bad for them as in they are feeling sick and need to run outside to go potty or throw up. Either way it is an urgent alert. I took a moment to check in with myself and I was within my normal pain and dizziness; nothing that out of the ordinary. I give her the, "we are good" reply and ask for a touch confirmation on my hand; which she does. This set of commands and actions, is our way of checking in with each other. Then I gave the, "back to work" command and we continued. Jeff and I decided to split up and do double duty grabbing items so we could get done faster but we always stay within one aisle of each other in case I get into trouble walking or need assistance. I was half way down the aisle to grab something and Ellie does a major alert; as I command her to, "watch my back" she ignores me and does a crazy ivan. Ellie whips around in front of me and gives me her "pay attention to me bark". Now as her handler, I understand this disobedience as, "we got to get out side fast mom!" I think she needs to get to the grass in a hurry to potty or vomit or something. I know it is a very urgent alert and we drop everything and move to the exit door.

As we are clearing to the exit, Ellie is pulling towards where Jeff is the entire time on the next aisle over which is weird because normally she should be hauling ass to the exit to make it to the grass area for relief. We get to the front door and I am now so dizzy, that I am wobbly on my feet and catch my balance on my pump handle and the edge of the security check desk. The agent at the desk asks if I am ok and then points to my IV line. I had it threaded under my shirt, and under my sweater so it was as visible and not so freakish while out in public. The port part still sticks out above my collar at my neck where it enters my upper chest. At the hem of my shirt the line continues to connect to my rolling IV pump. I look down to see my line has backed up with blood all the way from my port, down through the 14" extension line and into the entire length of pump tubing all the way into the pump case. The entire line is full of blood. I have never seen this happen on a CADD pump. I have seen it happen on a gravity line when the IV bag is below your heart and the pressure of your blood is higher than the force from the gravity level on the IV bag. But this pump relies on a pressurized closed system and it should never back up like this especially when there are two anti-syphon valves on the tubbing to prevent blood from pushing into the line. The agent sees the blood in the line and freaks and calls for security - which on the base means MPs. I know I have to lock off the lines and flush the blood back out immediately and I explain to the agent I have to go attend to the line and head to the restroom. There was no other private area to address the issue close by so the public restroom was my best option.

A closer look to see how the pump the power pack and
the full bag of saline holding 2500ml fits all strapped
into the special back pack. The high volume tubing
connects to the bottom of the pump and is securely
locked into place with a turn key lock. We know it was a
defective cartridge that caused the blood to back up down
into the tubing to the bag. When functioning normally the
system is closed and vacuum seal and pressure from
the pump force the fluids along the line and into my port
and into my artery. 

The restroom is small with two normal stalls and one disabled stall and filled with 4 gossiping employees on break. I 'have to wait for the able bodied person to clear the disabled stall because that is the only stall out of the three that is big enough for me to set up any kind of 'semi sterile field' to pull out my saline syringes, heparin and glove up to handle this while putting my service dog into a sit. The person in the disabled stall is taking too long and I have to act now - so I corner my self on the furthest sink and lay out a portable semi sterile area and start to work clearing and locking the port line. Of course whipping out a pile of medical supplies which look like large syringes freaks out the ladies taking their sweet time gossiping in this tiny bathroom, but fuck it; this is my life and my blood in this IV tube so I continue. The gossiping ladies leave immediately. 

I had already closed the 4 clip locks on the line to stop anymore blood from flowing out into my tubing. As far as I could see the blood had traveled all the way up the line past the pump and into the bag. I opened my line and capped off the pump side tube now full of blood and coiled it inside the back pack of the pump so it would not be out in the open. Then I pulled out three saline syringes, unwrapped, primed out the air and flushed them into my port line; anytime blood gets into your port line you have to flush it back into your body or it can cause a deadly clot to form. Because I use a 14 inch extension on my port line, I have to flush at least 30 ml back up the line to make sure all of the tubing both outside and inside my body were clear of blood. Once I get the line clear and full of saline of blood I have to follow the saline with heparin to safely lock off the line. The saline flushes the blood out, the heparin keeps any residue from clotting or trying to clot so the port line stays open and viable. I did this all in a matter of seconds, maybe a minute max - I was in hyper terminator mode with one mission: to clear, clean and lock down my port line.

The location of my central
veinous port is just below
my right collar bone, so the
bandage covering the needle
almost always visible.

Then I opened my pump backpack, and saw that quite a bit of blood had emptied back into the IV bag. My daily iv bags are huge - they are meant to hold 2500ml and we were nearing the end of my 24 hour infusion period, which meant I had about 400 ml of saline in the bag and what looked like 1200 - 1500ml of blood now inside the bag. I have never seen this before, I have seen my blood crawl up the line a start to go inside an IV bag but never fill one. At that point I lost my cool a little. To help put what I saw into perspective the largest blood test tube holds 10ml. I had bled 100 times that amount into this bag, and it had happened in a matter of maybe 15-20 minutes. A properly functioning CADD pump has enough pressure inside the closed system to prevent blood from my arteries from pushing back into the tube, and when the pump detects resistance to pushing the saline forward it sounds an alarm to let you know there is a kink in the tubing or something interfering with the normal flow. There was no alarm, and the pump was allowing the blood to back al the way up the line. It effectively had become a motorized drain into the emptied space of the IV bag.  

I had checked my pump to get my reading on the amount left in my bag before we entered the grocery store, before entering the store my bag was at 382ml of the normal clear yellow fluid. It would take the IV pump nearly 4 hours to move 382ml of saline into my body. My IV bags are injected each morning with a multivitamin which color it yellow. Now the IV bag was bright red and reading at 1800ml, that is almost full again. I texted Jeff finish grabbing the groceries meet me with the car keys at the front cause I needed to go to the van. It is not uncommon for me to have to go off to the bathroom to find a private place to give myself medication into the IV line or flush the line. It is also not uncommon for me to get too tired to finish a shopping trip and got sit and wait in the van. Jeff had not seen the blood in my line and at this point had no reason to worry. I was still in the mind set of "we are here, just finish the stupid shopping and go home where I can figure out what is going on with this pump". I was not really thinking clearly enough to understand the possible consequences. Like I said I have been using a CADD System and I have never seen or heard of blood back up the line. I have been on other IV pumps or gravity lines and seen blood crawl up the line in regular treatments both at home and in hospitals for the past 10 years. But I have never seen blood push this far up the line, this fast. I exit the restroom expecting to see Jeff with the van keys. Instead I the security agent, the store manager, all the gossiping ladies from the restrooP, a pair of MPs and an EMT crew is rolling up.

Long story short: I sit and let the EMTs examine and confirm I have cleaned, cleared and successfully locked my port line and I have turned off and locked off my pump line and stowed it safely away inside the back pack. I initiate a three way phone call with my Home RN who confirms she will meet me at my house and gather more vitals and help test the pump and if necessary will assist me to get to my local ER. The last thing I wanted was to be heading off to a hospital away from home. My vitals were stable and with the assurance of my home nurse I left with Jeff to go home. My nurse was waiting in my driveway as we drove up. When i sit down and show my nurse the pump and we do a three way call with the pharmacist at the IV supply company about the pump and ran the diagnostic over the phone. All of us thought the problem was a defective high volume tubing cartridge or a problem in the pumps ability to engage with the tubing. This is the only way the pump would allow a system designed to flow only one way to back up and flow freely the opposite way.

For prospective to give you an idea of how large the IV bag is,
it holds 2500ml, that the 2 and a half of the normal big bags
you are used to seeing hanging on IV poles at hospital. When
full the bag is roughly 12 lbs. The IV bag is so large we
refer to it as the baby and say, "it is time to change the baby"
when we start to change to a new full IV bag every 24 hours.

We rebooted the pump and reloaded a new sterile bag, and primed a new cartridge of high volume tubing. We tested the pump and after the reboot, it worked perfectly. We re-examined the IV bag and figured out I most likely only deposited 800ml or so of my blood into it, which is still really scary to look at when you pull out a giant saline bag and it is a bright red. My IV bags are made for a 24 hour continuous flow of 100 ml per hour so the bag is huge; not like the 1000ml bags most people are used to seeing in hospitals. My IV supply company is a great and they reset the programing on my pump so I could get through tonight and will deliver a new one to switch out at 8am tomorrow, just to be doubly safe. Once we were satisfied that the pump was working properly again and that the culprit was a most likely a defective tubing cartridge, we reset the whole system. My Home RN drew blood to test how low my blood volume had dropped and we will test again in the morning to double check. If my hemoglobin drops below 10, I have to go to down the street to my local hospital to 'grab a couple of pints'. Finally we flushed, flashed and flushed my port line again, changed a new sterile extension line and reconnected my port line back to the pump line.

The best parts of the story - 

• Jeff had already started checking out with the groceries before I got ambushed by the team of folks at the front door, so we did get our grocery shopping errand done. Hurray for multitasking!
• Secondly, I have now sufficiently scared the shit out of everyone who works at that commissary - I also bet no one will ask if my R2D2 is a 'oxygen pump' anymore. 
• Third, the sight of blood freaks out every one universally, but when it is coming out of a tube in your chest it scares the shit out of people. The security agent actually asked me if I was wearing a rosary, the IV line was so red he thought I had on a rosary under my shirt. when i lifted the line to show him no it was a port is when he realized it was a blood filled tube in my chest.
• Fourth, people will ask to pet your service dog at the most inappropriate times no matter what, when I was sitting on the gurney talking with the first responders, some random customer interrupted our conversation to ask if they could pet the puppy . . . I said, "No, not right now."
• Lastly, and most important - this is exactly what I mean when I talk about how my service dog has saved my life. I was feeling a little dizzy and exhausted which is what I consider normal after going to a doctor's appointment and doing a short stop at a grocery store. My energy and stamina are almost nil these days, and feeling tired and dizzy are so normal to me that I no longer think of them are a warning sign. If my service dog had not alerted me and kept on alerting me even after I commanded that "we were good", I would not have noticed the blood in my IV line as soon as I did. Her "obedient disobedience" as a high level urgent alert is what made me stop and walk to the front door. Had I not stopped and acted on her urgent alert I might have kept walking in the store. I might have kept feeling dizzy and lost a lot more blood and worse. The pump was malfunctioning so there was no alarm to alert me that there was a problem. I was wearing the tubing under my shirt, under a sweater and it would have been easy for people not to notice that there was blood in my IV line as I was walked by them. It was Ellie, pulling on my leash, mouthing my hand, giving me a "pay attention to me bark" and her disobeying my most simple commands which alerted me that something was really, very wrong. Ellie, my service dog, saved my life again today.

Ellie, my service dog, she is a doberman/lab mix. She was rescued off a highway when someone threw her away as a puppy and then she got paired with my and we trained together for over a year and a quarter in Operation Freedom Paws program. We still attend training even after passing our public access test because the training never really stops for either of us, part of being a successful team is learning new tasks together as my medical condition requires it.

Ellie and I at an infusion center, she goes with me everywhere, in medical
treatments and tests. The only place she cannot accompany me is into a
sterile environment like an OR suite, but she will be with me before and
after in recovery. 

I am ok now. I feel dizzy and weak from the blood loss. My vitals are stable and the test tomorrow will determine if I have to add more blood or I can just rest and recover. I have ten years of experience with IV infusion treatments and this is by no means the first time I have seen blood run up my line. It happens often with a gravity lines when an IV bag is hung too low. And I have been in a lot of situations where trouble happens with a IV port line, so I know that the first thing to do is to lock off the line, get some where safe to clean it, clear it and lock it. Which is exactly what I did. I also know the public bathroom is not the best choice but when you are in the middle of a store it is a better choice than the side walk, the produce section or fainting while trying to get to the van. In the past while on a different kind of IV pump that required me to disconnect my line to walk to go to the restroom, it was 3 am and I got up to use the rest room realized I felt something warm running down my leg. I was so exhausted that I forgot to lock off the line and bled all over the myself, the bathroom looked like a murder scene. I lost a fair amount of blood that night by accident. When you have an IV tube in your body off and on for a few years, you learn not to panic when stuff happens and you just figure out how to fix it.

My service dog Ellie, is my lifeline and my ability to go
into public, without her by my side; I feel like a
piece of my body is missing.

When people stop and ask me why my service dog needs to go everywhere with me, or why is having public access for me and my service dog so important, this is one of those examples of why. Had Ellie not been next to me and alerted me about the blood in my IV lines, I could have had a very serious medical crisis, one that could have done me serious harm. Ellie alerted me, and even when I was too dense to listen to her, she kept alerting me by acting out and disobeying me until I understood what was wrong and then could act to prevent more damage from occurring.  To alert me she has to be next to me and that is why it is so important for my service dog to be with me at all times, everywhere we go.

I always say Ellie feels like an extension of my body, that without her beside me I don't feel whole. She and I are a working service dog team; four paws, two feet, one team.

Ellie and I, together in training class at Operation Freedom Paws.  

Warning Vent Ahead:

Today I had to block someone from my Facebook page, it is of no consequence who they were because they did not have my best interest or the interest of those I love in their minds and their intent in their comments was to be hurtful and I don’t have room or energy for people like that in my life.

Ellie and I after I was released from ICU
- with Septic infection in my bloodstream.

There is no doubt I live with a very serious medical condition.  I have more medical records and test results from the past 15 years that most people accumulate over their entire lives.  My condition is real, proven and something I strive to live with in a positive way.  There is no way to fake blood tests, Sepsis is pretty straightforward life threatening infection and hospitals don’t let you hang out in them for fun. When I am in ICU it is for a reason. That IV line that connects to my body every month is real and I don’t pull that IV pump around for giggles and grins, it saves my life. I would not wish the level of pain and anguish I have lived through with my medical treatments and condition on any other person.  My condition is terminal and I will go through an eventual decline that will continue to limit my abilities to do things and that is my reality and it sucks but I know that it will come and that is why every day for me is precious.  Every day I awake to see my handsome talented husband, and our beautiful service dogs is a glorious day. 

Ellie and I getting another week of infusion treatment

 

Ellie and I post op - following the surgery to get my central port.

Some years ago I decided to be open and honest about my medical condition, I blog and write about it in great detail sharing experiences of hospital stays and pictures of intense treatments. I share this to help people understand what we as a family live with and to help others know that even when things seem bleak there is always something positive to hang on to in the darkest hour.  Pain in my life is a constant and it does effect my ability to do some things and it does wear on my emotions but it does not rule me.  Pain ebbs and flows, up and down, back and forth and I float along in it like the waves of the ocean. Some days the waves crash and pound my body against the rocks and other mornings I float along smooth as glass.  But the pain level is not what is important ever. What is important is kissing my husband good morning, holding his hand when mine is trembling, feeling his hand on my back when I cannot sit up, the softness of Ellie’s fur in my fingers and the love in her big brown eyes when she lays her head in my lap.  Those simple acts of love matter more that anything else and that is what is held on to during the pain. Pain is an electric impulse through a nerve bundle and it has no malice for me it just is part of what makes me a stronger person.

My Portable IV pump - it fits inside
my R2D2 rolling bag

My IV line attached to my central port and
connected to my portable pump inside R2D2.

So when some one asks me, “how can my husband and I travel to places and scuba dive if I am disabled?” I get livid.  Disabled people do all manner of things.  Scuba just happens to be what is sacred to us and it is so because when we are under the water we feel strong and whole in our bodies the way we used to before our illness and injuries.  I dive because it makes me feel normal for 1 hour at a time.  It is same reason Wounded Warriors and other Non-Profit organizations help disabled people learn to dive so they can feel that sense of freedom again with their bodies.  I am blessed to know disabled people who win buckles in national Rodeos; I am honored to know disabled people who race cars, run the rapids in kayaks and sky dive.  The difference when a disabled person does some adrenaline type sport it takes more planning and modifications of the equipment.  But life for a disabled person takes more planning and modification. That planning and modification does not make what the person is doing any less spectacular or the person less competent, frankly it usually highlights how remarkable the spirit and strength of heart that person possesses.

Isla Mujeres - Cliff of the Dawn - and one of the most
beautiful and healing places for me.

So when someone implies I should not be celebrating the 5^th anniversary with my loving husband in a tropical island where we can go scuba diving because I am disabled – I tell them to go pound sand and block them from my page.  We save and scrape our pennies all year to make that trip and we are not going to expensive places; we go there because it is mystical and magical and filled with other people we love. Our family dinner downtown on the island, I had my favorite thing Lima soup for 60 pesos or 3.29 USD.  Our hotel room cost less on the island with every meal and drink included than a Best Western room costs here with nothing included not even a bottle of water.  Again, we go to that island because it is not about the money – it is about the wonderful people there whom we have worked with for years and who care for us like family.

We dive because it makes us feel whole - and we are lucky to
have made friends with great dive masters who understand
how to accommodate our conditions so we can dive safely.

My husband knows more than anyone else how many times a doctor has expressed how little time I have left, or how awful the later parts of my decline will be.  My husband more than anyone else understands that I have surpassed my medical expiration date 5 times and I have coded and come back 3 times.  My husband has been the one pounding on my chest breaking my ribs to get my body to breathe again, and he has held my hand when there was non one there but the sound of beeps from the machines.  I will go back to that tiny little island every year to celebrate our love until there is no way to do it.  I will grab my IV pole and roll it onto the plane and through the airport and on that damn ferry until I can no longer.  Because there will come a day went I can no longer make that trip and will only have the pictures and the memories.  I will not apologize for living what is left of my life to the fullest and for spending each day with a smile on my face and making great new memories in my heart. 

We are as goofy underwater as we are on land -
Life is short, so we fill it with laughter.

 My husband is a damn honorable, talented and huge hearted man.  He spends his life giving back to others, helping others to give thanks for how he himself was helped. I have seen him go do this work with his hands trembling from pain and come home in total agony, but again it is not the pain that matters. What matters are the people, who he connects with, who he can help on some level and who through helping them heal his own soul.  I try and help whenever I can and I will until my dying day. Because that is who we are, it is no trick or game; it is who we are and what makes us happy. We are blessed to have found and be a part of similarly thinking people who get it in their bones that in helping others you refuel your spirit and heal your soul.

Another view of the waves at the Cliff of the Dawn -
To the Mayans this was a sacred island where you
came to heal . . . I kinda agree with them.

So I blocked the idiot – removed and deleted any and all nasty posts he said to me, because the time I got left will be spent positively, in service to my community and in making this place better than I found it in any way I can for as long as I can. As I see it there have been multiple changes for me to have been ‘called home’ and each time I awake and come back so someone in high places still has work for me to do and I will keep doing it until I am done.

For those who don’t like it – don’t let the door hit ya on the way out.

 

Jeff and I, exhausted after a dive.  Yes it is hard for us to do it but the memories
are worth it. I can tell you when I have those weeks ing the hospital and things
are real tough, these are the pictures and memories I hang on to, and fight
so we can go back there and make more memories.

The white sands of North Beach on Isla Mujeres - with some of our greatest joys and passions, the work Jeff does with Operation Freedom Paws, paw prints for our service dogs, and the Rolleflex camera and the love we share around all of it.

You have a service dog? What is wrong with you? Or what not to say to service dog teams, ever!

Today I was stopped by a overtly nosey woman as I was trying to finish picking up some prescriptions at the pharmacy.  She grabbed my left arm [ the arm I have the PICC line inserted into it just above my elbow. ]  The physical grab was startling and it hurt to have her wrap her fingers around my PICC site - I am going on 5 weeks now and the skin around my site has become blistered and inflamed. So touching anywhere around the site hurts me.  I don't try to hide my PICC line any more - I learned the hard way from people grabbing my arm that is is safer to have them notice it and stare instead of grasping and squeezing an inflamed site.  I wear a very visible layering of tights and stretch mesh over my PICC line this holds the extra tubing close to my arm and helps keep the tubing from being pulled free and dragging though a place that could cut the line, crimp the line or damage the line or put bacteria into the line.  So my left arm always has a long white or brightly colored sleeve to help people see there is a long PICC line in that arm and to not touch it.  It is very obvious that I have a special sleeve with mesh and tubing on my left arm. So much so that people often stare at it, or ask me if I was in a fire.  But I prefer them being aware of the PICC and not touching me.  Squeezing a PICC line site can cause serious problems, it can move the line in the artery and throw a clot into my heart - which can cause death. So I really do prefer to not have anyone touch that arm especially on the PICC site.  

Ellie and I in our yoga position - you can clearly see the
bandage sleeve and the tubing.  The white sleeve is somewhat
 see thru so you can even see where the PICC line site it by
 the colored plastic and the purple line.

Well the nosey woman today wanted to talk to me about my service dog.  She was one of those people who does not just ask you about your dog but then crosses boundaries and starts to ask me about my medical condition. She wanted to keep talking but I was tired and I politely thanked her for her compliment on our team's good behavior and excused myself to finish my errand so I could return home to rest.  

Well she was not satisfied that I said I was tired and needed to go.  She followed after me and reached out to grab my arm. It was startling and painful and I let out a yelp and winced with her grab. As I yelped Ellie turned to face her and moved into a rear block to get between her and me.  The lady stood dumbfounded and turned her head to look at what her fingers were feeling; the hard plastic disc of the Stat Lock that holds my line securely in place under the large Tagaderm dressing. Obviously she was surprised to feel the hard plastic and then the tube coming out of my arm.   

As if it could not get any worse, she stood there holding my inflamed arm and spouted out, "OMG, what is that thing in your arm?"  

She squeezed again and I again yelped and immediate swiped her hand away from my arm.  At that moment Ellie reacted and began to let out a low growl.  I then backed up three steps pulled Ellie back into Heal position and started too walk away and she followed me again: calling after me, "I thought service dogs are not supposed to growl at people. What was that?!?"  

Then her voice turned shrill as she blurted out in a really snide accusatory tone,  "that is not a real dog is it, be honest you just bought the vest, right, you bought that vest . . I know, I know I have wanted to do it too.  Where did you get the vest, I wanna get a vest too so I can take my little doggie with me everywhere too just like you?!?" 

By this point I know my face was red, my arm was throbbing and I was close to white hot rage. I turned back and said with the iciest voice I could muster, devoid of any emotion and focused like a laser to try and pierce the fog in her brain.  "She is a real dog and indeed a certified service dog with thousands of hours of training, and the growl was a reaction to the assault you perpetrated on my person by grabbing my arm.  You are now interfering with the work of a service animal and that is a felony crime so please step away from us and leave us alone or I will call the police."  

She was outraged that I was standing holding firm, she began to prattle on with, "I never assaulted you, I barely touched your arm thing, what ever that is  . . . . I just wanted to know where you got your vest so I can take my little dog with me too, jeez!"

I can tell you it took every bit of training and life experience to not rip into her and verbally lacerate her into to ribbons.  But instead I took a breath and moved away.  As I passed her, I said in an even more icy voice, "trying to pass off a pet as a service dog is also a crime, a felony. A service dog must be prescribed by a doctor for a medical condition that requires the use of the dog in order to function.  So when you are saying you want to make your pet a service dog so he can go with you everywhere - you are really saying I wish I had your terminal medical condition.  I would gladly give you all the pain and and anguish my medical condition causes me in my life so you can have a better understanding of how inappropriate and utterly rude and hurtful what you just said was." 

Then I tapped my hip and said, "Ellie heal," and we walked as fast as my shaky legs could get me out of that store.  The manager followed me out and caught up with me on the curb and asked if I was ok. I was shaking and apparently extremely upset. The manager was kind and asked if he could assist me.  The manager had seen the tail end of the confrontation and was appalled at the woman's behavior, and I told him unfortunately these kind of confrontations are frequent with service dog teams.  He offered a heart felt apology and walked with me to my van.

Jeff Helping me plug into my IV pump.

When Ellie and I got to the van I opened the side door and commanded her to load and I crawled in after her and curled up on the floor of the van next to her and she started to lick my face. Ellie knew how upset I was and was doing her level best to get me calm again. When I got inside the van with the door closed I noticed my whole body was shaking and I broke down in tears.  I don't know how long we stayed curled up on the van floor but it was a while.  We just sat curled up together breathing and doing our puppy yoga and slowly I calmed down. It took some time before I could pull my self together enough to get up and out and into the passenger seat.  Jeff had stayed in the van, he was also exhausted and was trying to catch a nap after class while I waited for the prescription to fill inside.  When I climbed in the van it woke him and he was disturbed by how upset I was.  His protector gene kicked in and he started to try and get out to go find the woman - but I stopped him and asked him to just stay with me until I could be calm.  My hands were still shaking the entire ride home.  We got inside the house and Jeff fixed me some hot tea and got me and Ellie comfortable on the couch with our blanket, and hooked up to my IV pump in our snuggle position so we could rest.  Bless him and bless Ellie.

Ellie and I settling into rest and be connected
my IV pump, I have to be connected for most
of the day, basically when ever I am home
I have to be hooked up.

This type of confrontation happens all the time to those of us with service dogs, usually not this overt and over the top - but many times people are clueless to the kind of distress the inappropriate questions about our medical conditions or comments about how they want to get a vest so their pup can go with them everywhere too, can be for us.  

You see whenever some one says they think having a service dog is cool and they want a vest so they can have their dog with them everywhere too.  They don't understand what it feels like to those of us who have a medical condition that requires a service dog. - it is tantamount to saying: 

"Wow how cool is it for you to have you have cancer, you get to wear all those fun wigs!"
 or 
"Neat, I wish I had a terminal condition that causes incredible pain and suffering too, so I could ride on that cool scooter"
 or 

"I wish everything in the world brought up mind shattering memories of death and destruction so I can't stand to leave my room, and could just sit at home never leaving"
  
I don't think anyone in their right mind would walk up to a blind person and say, "I wish I could not see so I could use that cool cane," or approach someone in a wheelchair and exclaim, "it would be so awesome to not have legs so I could ride around in a chair like that."

Service dogs are MEDICALLY NECESSARY for their handlers to be able to function out in the world.  They are an extension of the person and function to help that person navigate the world with their disability. Without their dog they cannot do the things in life most people take for granted.    

Ellie watches over me as I sleep.

So it is in no way cool to tell someone with a service dog that you wish you could have your dog with you too and be just like them.  And no matter how curious you are about the disability is that the person with the service dog is living with, it is never ok to ask what is "wrong" with them.  Medical conditions are personal and private.  You would not like someone walking up to you at the store checkout line and talk about all the embarrassing things you don't want the general public to know about your body, so don't ask people to talk about theirs.  You should only ever ask two questions to someone with a service dog: 

1. Is that a service dog?

2. What tasks does the dog do for
you?

If they are comfortable with discussing their medical condition they will tell you when they describe the tasks their service dog is trained to perform for them.  

And Ellie gets to sleep too.

I know that Ellie and I are a magnet for attention where ever we go - she is a cute, attractive, well trained dog and I have the "talk to me" gene.  I also know we are ambassadors for all service dog teams when ever we are out in the world, and especially around home we are walking advertisements for Operation Freedom Paws. But most of all I know that where ever I go when I walk in anywhere the simple fact that I have a service dog tells everyone in the room that I have a serious disability and there is no way to blend in. 

Usually I am prepared and happy to talk about service dogs, the training and the Operation Freedom Paws program but there are some days when it is all I can do to just get in the store grab the prescription and get out. On those days I try my best to be polite when I say I cannot talk today.  

Today was off the charts crazy. . .