The Value of OT - I Stand Corrected

So, if I'm honest, I would say that OT (occupational therapy) is a waste of time. At the very least, I would say, "It can't hurt, but I don't think it helps." Well, I think I might want to tone down my opinion just a bit.

You see, my youngest son had OT during the early intervention years. He still has OT at school to help build strength in his fingers in order to use a Brailler. My oldest son has OT to help with writing. In each case it seemed as though progress took years; even then in the case of my oldest son, it didn't seem to help as his writing is still barely legible. Progress did happen, but I wasn't convinced that it was a result of OT.

7/17/2014

8/11/2014

I have OT to rebuild strength in my arm and hand. Last month, I was sent home from the OT's office with a rubber band, an exercise band, and a list of exercises to perform. I thought, "Seriously?" Nevertheless, I resolved to do the exercises because 1) deep down I'm a good girl and do what I'm told - HAHAHA, just kidding! I do what I'm told when I agree, or when it suits me but that's a moral failing and I digress; and 2) there was no way that I could start with lifting weights. In my last post I noted that my left hand strength using a dynamometer was 2 PSI (pounds or pound-force per square inch). I went to my OT appointment today, and it was 5 PSI - more than double what it was last time! The OT exercises are working, albeit slowly (from my perspective). The fingers on my left hand can curl a little bit more into a fist. It's not a very strong fist, and I still can't squeeze or flex. However, I am building strength.

The next phase is to continue strength-building exercises while working on coordination and dexterity. That's going to be difficult. My hand and arm movements are choppy and clumsy. Sure, I can curl my fingers a bit more, but I still can't grip anything properly. Yet. (As a side note: thank goodness I no longer drive a stick shift or I would be up a creek. Gripping the steering wheel with my left hand is challenging.) The shooting pain still hasn't gone away. Yet. Although I'm still flabbergasted and annoyed that all of this resulted from donating blood, I'm glad I had the opportunity to do so. Regardless of where I am now, I have hope that things will improve. Yes, things could be better. Things could also be much worse: I could be in a situation where I'm the one needing donated blood. So if you get anything from this post remember: there is value in OT, and don't be afraid to be generous even with your blood.

Slow and steady wins the race.

When a Routine Blood Donation Isn't

It's good to be back after however many months it's been. I just haven't felt like blogging. It's not that I lost interest, it's just that I didn't have alot to say or share. There is something that I would like to share, however, and that's why I'm back.

Back in May, I decided to participate in a blood drive. It was one of the many service projects going on around our church that weekend, and this was one that I knew I could do. Afterall I'd done it before and it was no big deal. Just before the needle was inserted, I remember thinking, "Holy crap, that's a huge needle." It turns out that the needles used for blood donations are much larger than those used by a lab for a routine blood draw. This wasn't the case the last time I donated blood. Mind you, I'm not afraid of needles and I'm not afraid of blood and no, I've never wanted to be a nurse or a doctor because I don't want to deal with other people's blood. (How's that for a run-on sentence?)

As the needle was inserted into my skin I said, "OWWW!" A shooting pain ran down my arm, but the phlebotomist assured me that I was OK. Unfortunately, I have a high tolerance for pain, so I just tend to grin and bear it. I kept thinking, "Bleed faster, bleed faster." Afterwards, there was minimal bruising and stinging, shooting pain, but I thought nothing of it.

Over the next few days, that stinging pain didn't go away. About 10 days later over Memorial Day weekend, I noticed some weakness in my forearm and hand. I brushed it off because I had too many other things to do: upcoming graduation, anniversary, another anniversary party, vacay in Tahoe. I didn't have time to deal with it. It's quite easy to live in denial.

Finally, at the end of June, I called my doctor. She proceeded to test my finger strength by inserting a piece of paper between each of my fingers. I was to squeeze my fingers together while she tried to pull the paper away. I failed. She did several resistance tests and I failed those, too. Thinking that I might have nerve damage, she called the neurology department and it just so happened that the chief of neurology was on phone duty that day. (A total God-thing) He said to send me on over and he could squeeze me in for a consult right away. He performed many of the same resistance tests that my primary doctor did, and decided I needed to undergo a nerve function test. While in his office, I learned that he had been a regular blood donor. It was from him that I learned that at some point, blood banks switched to larger needles because they enabled faster blood collection. Nice.

Right hand

Left hand

A week later, I went back for the nerve function test. The good news is that none of my nerves were damaged. PRAISE THE LORD! The bad news is, it still doesn't explain the stinging pain and weakness in my arm and hand. The neurologist referred me to occupational therapy to try and rebuild strength. I had my first OT appointment today. She used a hydraulic hand dynomometer to measure the force of my grip. My right hand measured 80 pounds per square inch. Pretty darn good for a middle-aged gal. My left hand? Only 2 pounds. I was sent home with high tech tools such as a rubber band, an exercise band, and a list of exercises to perform each day. I go back in 3 weeks for a progress check. All of this from a seemingly routine blood draw. As you can see from the pictures, I can't fully squeeze my left hand and make a fist, nor can I flex my left arm muscles.
 
So what's the moral of the story? I'm not sure there is one. I guess I've learned not to assume that a routine procedure is not without risk or potential complications. Ignorance can be painful. Sometimes we just get the short end of the stick. We get shafted; we get screwed over. Yes, the shooting pain hurts. Yes, the weakness in my arm and hand is frustrating. Yes, I'm annoyed. In spite of this, I put my hope and trust in the Lord for his perfect timing and will continue to praise Him in good times and bad.

But he said to her, “You speak as one of the foolish women speaks. Shall we indeed accept good from God and not accept adversity?” In all this Job did not sin with his lips. Job 2:10

Daytripping: Yosemite in the Fall

Since the boys were out of school on Monday, we decided to take a spur of the moment drive to Yosemite. I've never been to Yosemite in the fall. I've heard that the best time to visit the park is in the spring because all of the waterfalls are gushing. In the fall, the waterfalls weren't even trickling. Still, it was beautiful. Plus, as an added bonus in honor of Veterans Day, the entrance fee was free. Of course, our family has the Access Pass, so it was free anyway.

Yosemite is about a 3 hour drive away from us. We left early Monday morning and decided to take Hwy 120. In the past, we've always entered the park via Hwy 140 as we camped at the KOA located just beyond the town of Mariposa. This time, we decided to try something different.

We meandered along Hwy 120 through quaint little towns like Oakdale and Groveland. We stopped at the vista point "Rim of the World" in order to check out some of the damage from the Rim Fire, which was named after this vista point. My crappy phone camera can't possibly do any justice, but here are some snapshots of the fire damage:

 

Contrast

We finally got to the entrance of the park. We headed toward Yosemite Valley, but then decided to head on up to Glacier Point. Patches of snow were located here and there along the road and discreetly tucked away between trees. The seemingly long drive up to Glacier Point felt like we were driving away from the park. The drive is simply a testimony as to how big Yosemite is. Once we got to Glacier Point, we postponed trips to the bathroom in order to catch the views of Yosemite Valley and Half Dome. Breathtaking can't even describe the views that we saw from Glacier Point. I'm forever apologizing for my phone's camera, but I have no intention of getting a new phone any time soon, so:

Half Dome

View of Half Dome from Glacier Point

There were patches of snow surrounding the parking lot of Glacier Point. My oldest son decided it was time for a snowball fight and nailed his dad pretty good. Of course, he can dish it out but he can't take it. We made our way back down to the valley and took a final tour. The trip took longer than we thought, but there were no regrets. On our way home, we decided to take Hwy 140. The afternoon long shadows were catching up to us and it wouldn't be long before it was dark. Hwy 120 was beautiful, but Hwy 140 is an easier drive, especially in the dark.

Leaving Yosemite

Would I visit Yosemite again in the fall? Absolutely. The website states that, "Yosemite is not known for having spectacular fall colors because most of the trees are evergreen." But that doesn't mean that there isn't some fall color. There were some beautiful trees (Oak, I think. Maybe aspen. Sorry, I don't know trees.) that were turning a fabulous shade of yellow, which made a nice contrast with the evergreen. I'm already looking forward to seeing Yosemite in the spring.

"You alone are the Lord. You made the heavens, even the highest heavens, and all their starry host, the earth and all that is on it, the seas and all that is in them. You give life to everything, and the multitudes of heaven worship you." Nehemiah 9:6

Watching, Waiting, and Hoping that Third Time's a Charm

Third time's a charm or so the old saying goes. I hesitate to say that things are 'charmed' around here, but I will say that my youngest son is tolerating Topamax better than I expected. Topamax is the third anti-epileptic medication that he has tried. Tried. I say that as though it's like trying a new food or a new restaurant. If only it were that simple.

I can't say for sure that the Topamax is working. He has had at least one, and possibly two, seizures at school so far this year. Both occurred earlier in October at school. The neurologist increased the dosage of Topamax to 100mg per day - 50mg in the morning and 50mg in the evening. Finding the right therapeutic dose is a frustrating game to play. And it's not a fun game as you watch and hope for seizure control and hope against side effects.

No medication is without side effects. Some side effects of Topamax are: loss of appetite, difficulty concentrating, and memory problems. There are more, of course, but those are the most common. So far, I've noticed that he's not eating as much as he used to. He's eating, but his portions are smaller. To be honest, I haven't noticed problems with concentration or memory, but I have noticed that he is a little goofy. Maybe it's just my imagination, but since the dosage increase he seems goofier than usual. Being goofy is not officially a side effect, but I have read that other people on Topamax feel this way. Since my son can't tell me how these meds affect him, I read epilepsy boards to see how teens and adults describe how they feel when they are on these meds.

Some people seem to experience little or no side-effects and the medication works wonders for them. Other people, however, seem to experience moderate to severe side-effects that make taking the med impossible. And to add insult to injury, the med provides inadequate seizure control. It frustrates me just to read about it. I'm sure it frustrates the people taking the meds and the doctors who prescribe them. Epilepsy is just infuriating and frustrating all around.

In the meantime, chocolate pudding has become one of my best friends. Fortunately, the pills are small and I'm able to put each pill in a spoonful of pudding and give it to my son. Unfortunately, the pills leave a bitter aftertaste, so I give him an extra spoonful of pudding sans pill to help eliminate the bitterness. "Just a spoonful of pudding makes the medicine go down..." Sorry.


"Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer." Romans 12:12