Jul 292014
 

Ceiling Lift installed in my room at Huntington Manor

The owner of Huntington Manor was willing to have my ceiling lift installed.


So why aren’t more facilities using them?

A few weeks ago, I decided to find out. It seems that the answer may be very complicated, although, like many questions, money and politics may be at the root of the issue. In the following posts I will share what knowledge I have been able to gain through talking with facilities, manufacturers, and installers. For this first post, I simply want to make everyone understand how simple the process of doing a transfer with an overhead lift can be. Those of you who have followed my blog through the years will recall the nightmare experience I had at a local hospital when they tried to transfer me with brute force. I weigh 220 pounds and it would take a lot of brutes to get me out of my chair.

So please watch the video below with that in mind. It is only four minutes long, because that is as long as it takes a single caregiver to smoothly and safely pick me up from my bed and put me in my wheelchair.

However, I know there are many other factors holding facilities back. Besides money, some are concerned whether it would be safe to install a lift within one of their rooms. I will show the many types of installations and explain that there is one for almost any situation. Others think it would be an expense that they might never recover. There are plenty of case histories to put that fear to rest. Then there is the misperception that most facilities don’t use overhead lifts. While this may be true in California and many other states, it is definitely not true in Europe and Canada. What do they know that we don’t? That will be the focus of one of my articles.

Jun 102014
 

Ceiling Lift installed in my room at Huntington Manor

The owner of Huntington Manor was willing to have my ceiling lift installed.

I am about to begin some posts on a subject that has been the source of puzzlement to me for some time.

Overhead lifts are widely used throughout Europe and Canada where studies have shown they dramatically reduce resident and caregiver injuries. They also cut labor costs since transfers that normally require two or more caregivers are now safely accomplished with one. Despite this information, the assisted living industry in the United States appears to be intractably opposed to overhead lifts, or for that matter any kind of patient lifts, within their facilities. Asking around I have found that many of the major chains have forbidden facilities from installing these systems. Instead they require the caregivers to do the lifting and repositioning. Some claim that overhead lifts would increase labor costs and lead to more injuries and lawsuits, despite the evidence that the opposite is true.

I am trying to determine why there is such opposition. I’m also trying to learn if the problem is as widespread as I believe. Today I heard from a facility that is part of one of the largest chins in the country. According to the person I spoke with, the decision came from their risk management people. (Unsure whether it is an in-house department or a separate risk management company.)

I need your help. Please comment on this post or my Facebook entry that I have linked to this post and let me know anything you have observed on the subject. I plan to publish the first article around the beginning of next week.

Topics will include:

An overview of the issue.
The types of modern overhead lifts available and how they work.
The myths and truths about overhead lifts.
Examples of the use of overhead lifts in other countries.
Exposing either the ignorance or the lack of concern for patients and caregivers that hinders their use in assisted living facilities in the United States.

If it turns out to be obstruction by either risk management or insurance companies I will address that subject as well.

I will deeply appreciate any help you can give me.

Apr 182014
 
"Up against the wall and don't move!"

“Up against the wall and don’t move!”

Life with inclusion body myositis presents some difficult choices. My latest circumstances found me spending lots of time at the local hospital wound care center, buying illegal drugs, and facing long periods of solitary confinement in a 3 foot by 7 foot space. Okay, so I’m exaggerating a little, but we have to make this interesting don’t we?

I’ve been in a wheelchair since 1999 and for the past several years I have not been able to get out of it other than to go to bed or visit the toilet. This means that I am sitting in one position for about 15 hours a day. That is never a good idea even for healthy skin, and my skin is far from healthy. Recently a large area of the region where I sit has lost several layers of skin. The wound care doctor said it was excoriated. This is a fancy word for saying that the skin has been scraped off. It doesn’t feel good, and in fact was at one time a favored form of punishment. The doctor also said the only way to prevent my wound from getting much worse, which could result in surgery and a lengthy hospitalization, was to go straight to bed and stay there. Two hours on one side and then two hours on the other.

This Peruvian skin ointment was the focus of a federal lawsuit.

This Peruvian skin ointment was the focus of a federal lawsuit.

The doctor also recommended I use a prescription ointment called Xenaderm. It works very well, much better than any of the other ointments or creams I had tried. But when I got the bill from my pharmacy I discovered it is not covered by insurance and costs $31 per tube. A little investigation revealed that the ointment is a Peruvian concoction not approved by the FDA and in fact was the subject of a major lawsuit in Florida. On the other hand, all three wound care physicians recommended it, it works, so I’m using it.

I have been following the bed rest instructions, up to a point, and I’m happy to report my skin is doing much better. However those who know me will guess that I’m not taking this lying down (sorry, couldn’t resist). I am working with my wheelchair provider, MDA doctor and a physical therapist to try to improve my wheelchair seating so I can resume a reasonably normal lifestyle. Right now I am sitting on a custom Ride cushion that cost several thousand dollars and is no longer comfortable. I think that as I have grown weaker my body shape has changed. My weight is still the same, but more of it seems concentrated in the worst possible place. I will record my progress with a new cushion on this blog in the weeks ahead.

Feb 132014
 

The paperback version of Rolling Back: Through a Life Disabled

The paperback version of Rolling Back: Through a Life Disabled

Rolling Back has been published in paperback and is available on Amazon for $6.99 ($6.64 for Amazon Prime members). There is also the Kindle version that costs $2.99. I have provided links to each of them below.

Writing and publishing Rolling Back as been a personally rewarding experience that I wouldn’t trade for anything. Several people have urged me to write another, and I will probably try. However I think I’m ready for a change of pace and may attempt a fiction novel next. I’d be interested to hear your thoughts.

Paperback:

Kindle:

Feb 072014
 
Here is the cover for the paperback version of my book.

As most of you know (I hope) I have published the Kindle edition of Rolling Back: Through a Life Disabled. (You can see the Amazon listing by clicking on the link at the bottom of this post.) I had assumed that most people were now reading books electronically. However I quickly learned that many of you prefer to read books that you can hold in your hands, turn the pages, etc.
I remember those days. Unfortunately I’m no longer able to do that. But the good news is that there now are so many options available for reading on a screen. I am too weak to even hold a Kindle so I use the Kindle Reader on my computer. I have also recently signed up for a wonderful service through the local library called BookShare. It is for people like me who are not capable of holding a book. It is also for the blind. Once you have established your disability and have been accepted into the program, you can scroll through all of the books that a regular library might hold and select ones you want to read. They’re delivered instantly to your computer where you can either read them on the screen, or listen to them. I am very grateful that this program exists.

This is how I read (the 27 inch iMac) and how I write (microphone for voice recognition).

This is how I read (the 27 inch iMac) and how I write (microphone for voice recognition).

The paperback version of my book should be published in about three weeks. It has been a much more complicated process than publishing for Amazon Kindle. Both versions recommend that you work with Microsoft Word, but the publishing process for a paperback needs everything formatted to the exact size of the finished book.
Once the paperback is available you will notice its price is more than double that of the Kindle version. ($6.99 for the paperback versus $2.99 for Kindle.) This simply reflects the printing costs involved in producing a 134 page book with a full-color cover. If you’re curious, my royalty is greater for the Kindle version. I have received some kind reviews about my book. Thank you!

Feb 042014
 

This is the cover for my new book. The art is a slightly modified version of one of my late wife's paintings.

This is the cover for my new book. The art is a slightly modified version of one of my late wife’s paintings.

My book, Rolling Back: Through a Life Disabled, has been published and is available as a Kindle version on Amazon. You don’t need a Kindle to read it, you can read it on any computer or any tablet for smart phone using the free Kindle app. Kindle owners who are Amazon Prime members can borrow it for free.

Rolling Back will be available as a paperback in a few weeks. Right now it is only in the Kindle format, but will be expanded to include other e-readers in three months. The price for the Kindle version is just $2.99. If cost is an issue I hope to be able to offer it free for five days on Amazon. When that happens, I will let everyone know.

Dec 082013
 
Using my techniques, I am now able to eat a varied diet.

Using my techniques, I am now able to eat a varied diet.

Like most people with inclusion body myositis, I have weak swallowing muscles. This causes me to have trouble forcing food to go down the esophagus and as result it will try to go down my trachea. Over the years I have had several swallowing studies including two at UCSD Medical Center. These merely confirmed what I already knew, however they also allowed me to see, by way of the fluoroscopic studies, exactly what was going on. I was able to see that the food got trapped in pockets near my vocal chords. This explained why, when I would try to speak while eating or shortly afterwards, I would almost always end up choking and having a violent coughing spell.

The doctors had several suggestions, including having my throat expanded, or having Botox injections, or even stopping eating altogether and having a feeding tube inserted in my stomach. I have known people who have pursued each of those routes. The first two generally do not produce lasting results and the feeding tube would require a higher level of care. So I decided to take what I learned and figure out a way to eat successfully. I’ve been observed by a speech therapist while eating and he said that I was using the techniques that he would normally teach to someone to help them overcome swallowing difficulties. With that kind of encouragement, I have decided to publish a video showing me eating accompanied by my own explanation in the hopes that it might help others who are struggling with this problem.

As always, I caution you that I am not a medical professional and that this is not medical advice. I am simply showing you what works for me and I cannot predict whether it will work for you.

Sep 232013
 

As a disease like inclusion body myositis progresses, it does more than produce the physical changes you expect. It also has a way of taking over your life. It seems that every day I spend more time trying to find solutions to living with IBM than I do actually living. It is like I had just taken the most demanding job imaginable and simply have little time for a personal life.

This may be why I am able to tolerate my current living situation. Even though I am in a very comfortable room with a perfectly large bathroom and am surrounded with just about every assistive device you could think of, it still is not what a normal person would consider ideal. The other residents are nice people, at least the ones who are capable of speaking, but for the most part they are either older than I am by many years or have other issues that prevent forming a personal bond.

About two hours of every day is spent taking care of basic physical needs such as getting up, toileting, bathing, eating, etc. The rest of the time I generally spend at my computer working on the website and blog for Huntington Manor, updating my own blog and my wife’s memorial site, visiting friends on Facebook and posting to the various support groups related to my illness. Every so often I need to tilt my wheelchair back to a horizontal position to help avoid pressure sores and circulation problems and during that time, since I am basically staring at the ceiling or the sky (see video below), I generally focus on meditation. I usually spend one or two hours out of each day looking up information about living arrangements, adaptive equipment, etc., or making phone calls about the same issues. Then there are the doctor visits which usually happen one or two times a week. Even though the appointments themselves are not that long, they involve 8 to 10 miles of wheelchair riding for the round-trips, or even longer bus rides. If there is time left over, my latest Netflix treat awaits.

As I write this, I am not sad or bitter, I am simply amazed by the way I have been so completely taken over by IBM. Up until a year ago, my post-retirement time was more likely to be spent dealing with my wife’s myotonic muscular dystrophy, as it was a disease even more complex and, as we now know, more life-threatening than mine. But that seemed like a worthwhile pursuit and as long as there was hope for making her better, what else would I be doing?

Now here is where this analysis gets a little weird. When I look at the lives other people live, I do not feel envy. if I had to describe what I feel I would say it was puzzlement. Dining out, games, camping, trips to the beach, all the things I can no longer do, I don’t really miss. Somehow I feel like what I am doing is actually entertaining.

My biggest regret about the way I live is that I wish it could be more meaningful. I am sure everyone starts having such feelings as we begin to realize that one of these days will be our last. But I have a unique opportunity since I have almost no obligations other than arranging for the assistance I need to keep me healthy. I keep returning to writing in the hopes that someday I will write something that really has meaning. I am sure that makes me one of about half a billion writers who feel the same yearning.

Unfortunately, making the decsion to “write something meaningful” isn’t enough. I am reminded of the scene in Funny Farm where Chevy Chase is sitting at his typewriter, having left his job in the city to pursue a career as a novelist. He types the title, puts in another sheet of paper, types “Chapter One,” shoves the carriage return (something young writers may not know about) and sits staring at the empty page. For days.

One of the nice things about voice recognition is that an empty screen and listening microphone can’t apply the same pressure. Eventually it will hear some background noise and start typing random words, frequently expletives. For that matter I can just start talking gibberish and Dragon Dictate will not even raise an eyebrow as it spits the words onto the screen.

See what I mean?

A two minute sample of garden meditation.

Jul 232013
 

A photo of Earth taken from nearly a billion miles away by Cassini orbiting Saturn. I am in the picture.

Living with a progressive untreatable disability like inclusion body myositis can be very difficult, but it is not rocket science––or is it? Friday, July 19, I toured the NASA Jet Propulsion Laboratory in Pasadena California, and shot lots of video footage with my new GoPro Hero 3 Black camera. It just happened to be the day that the Cassini spacecraft orbiting Saturn was going to take a picture of Earth. Many of the employees of JPL were out in the courtyard waving for the picture. You cannot see them in the video but you can hear them. I also included the picture that Cassini took of Earth, with the assumption that I am in the shot. The shakiness in the video comes from my inability to hold my hands very steady. I should have used my helmet mount, but I thought that might give security some problems.

Now about the rocket science. To begin with, it turns out the Jet Propulsion Laboratory is no longer that concerned with jet propulsion other than hitching a ride with a rocket to get to where they need to go. Their main focus these days is on robotics. Their mission control center is all about sending and receiving signals through millions and even billions of miles of space. For example, the photograph that is on this page and featured in the video showing Earth as seen from Saturn, was taken by the Cassini orbiter. if you wanted to be in the photograph (not that anybody would really know you were) you needed to be facing Saturn and smiling and waving about one hour and 20 min. before Cassini actually snapped the shutter. That is how long it takes the light waves to get from Earth to Saturn.

But on a more down to earth example, the camera I used, my GoPro, is a marvel of technology in its own right. Slightly larger than a matchbox and not much heavier, it can shoot video that is 4000 pixels wide and I control it with my iPhone. Despite being unable to move my fingers, I was able to compose a fairly complex score to go with the video using Logic Pro software on my iMac and a Korg Nanokey keyboard that is perfect for me since the keys merely need to be touched. The video editing was done using Final Cut Pro X, an amazing software program that puts the equivalent of a million-dollar video production studio onto my desktop for a cost of about $300. Finally, I am dictating this entire blog, along with tens of thousands of words that I have recently written for books in progress using Dragon Dictate voice-recognition software.

Thank you scientists everywhere, and please keep these wonderful innovations coming!

Jun 282013
 

Dear bidet, you have no idea how much I have missed you for the past 24 hours.

After struggling with inclusion body myositis for more than 17 years, it was a bout of constipation that finally sent me to the hospital. After 17 days, I owed too large a debt to my toilet to ignore the problem any longer.

I checked into Scripps Green Hospital late in the afternoon. I was in my Permobil C500 power chair, but I was forced to abandon that for a gurney. The hospital staff seemed shocked when I told them that I could not stand up and transfer, they would have to find a way to lift me. A Hoyer lift I suggested. They shook their heads. “We will get a lift team,” one orderly said.

Silly me, I expected to see a few rejects from the San Diego Chargers show up. Instead, it appeared that their lift team consisted of anyone who was not on break at the moment. I tried to explain that I had contractures on my left arm and left leg and that I would be no help whatsoever, not because I did not want to, but because I could not. Nevertheless, they each grabbed a limb and said “one, two, three!” and lifted. I have a fairly high tolerance for pain, and even when something really hurts I try not to make too much of it. I literally screamed out loud at the top of my lungs. But on a positive note, they didn’t drop me to the floor. This process was repeated when they transferred me to the x-ray table, then transferred me back, then to my final destination––a bed in room 466.

At last! Oh how wrong I was. You see in order to cure my bout of extreme irregularity they were going to administer “GoLghtly” which is mostly used to prepare for a colonoscopy. It makes you Go, but certainly not Lightly. In my case it was a way to force the issue. After drinking a couple of quarts of the stuff, I was ready for the next phase at about 3 am. A nurse’s aide came in response to my call button (eventually) and I explained what was about to happen. She extended her arm and wondered if I needed help to the toilet. Obviously the second shift had not been told about my condition. When I told her that I could not walk, stand, or even roll from side to side, she left quickly in search of help. Help consisted of two more aides and a bedpan.

Their technique was simple, but brutal. They would shove me to one side of the bed, rolling me in the process, then put a very uncomfortable plastic thing beneath and roll me back the other way so that I was perched on top of it. Now my pain was complete. In order to shut me up, they brought in several more pillows and placed them in areas that bothered me the most. Of course the entire process had to be repeated to remove the pan. And both processes were repeated five more times during the night.

By morning, I was declared “fixed” and a nurse asked if I would like to have breakfast. You would not think I could have an appetite after all that, but since I had not eaten for nearly 24 hours, I let them bring it to me. I don’t need to tell you what hospital food is, but fortunately it was not possible for me to eat any of it. My dysphagia means I must be sitting upright but the hospital bed wouldn’t take me to that position.

“Can’t you just sit on the edge of the bed with your legs dangling over the side?” the nurse asked. Once again I had to explain about having no upper trunk support. So they put the breakfast on the over-bed table and shoved it up close to my face. Of course I could not raise my arms high enough to even pick up a fork, let alone get something to my mouth. When the nurse returned and saw that I had not eaten anything, she offered to feed me a few bites. A few bites was all it took to send me into violent coughing spasms whereupon she promptly decided I needed a consult with a respiratory therapist and a speech therapist. For that matter, why not also have occupational therapy and physical therapy? (I was on Medicare with a good supplement after all.)

So, for the three hours before lunch, I was visited by all of them plus a case manager, charge nurse, resident doctor, dietitian and nutritionist. Then came lunch and once again they tried to feed me, and once again it was nearly impossible. By then they were ready to fill out my discharge papers and send me home. But there was one last minor detail. They had to get me out of the bed and onto my wheelchair. This time they did get a Hoyer lift, but none of them had used one before, so it was a part scary/comical procedure that lasted for the better part of half an hour and ended with me kind of in my wheelchair.

Now I am back at Huntington Manor, sitting in my very comfortable Permobil, secure in the knowledge that soon my two caregivers will use the overhead ceiling lift to painlessly lift me from the chair and place me in my bed.

I had asked one of the nurses why the hospital was not better equipped to handle people like me. Her answer was that they had all kinds of patients, not just people like me. Of course that is true, however local grocery stores also have all kinds of people shopping there, but that does not prevent them from having wide unobstructed isles, handicap parking out front, and automatic doors. Time and again I read of people complaining about the inaccessibility of healthcare facilities, yet nothing is ever done about it. if I were a little bit younger I might take this up as a cause. It is not that I am too old for the work, it is just that I know I would never see any progress during my lifetime.