Category Archives: Health Care

Not As Hoped

Posted on by under Family, Health Care, Loss

August 3, 2021 — my birthday — my wife and I were enjoying our first overnight trip since the Covid-19 pandemic began in early 2020. We didn’t know then that it would be the last we’d have together living with the independence we take so much for granted.

We decided to keep it simple, making a road trip from our Maryland home to Pennsylvania and spending time at various points of interest in the southeastern part of the state.

We had a lovely lunch in Havre de Grace, Maryland, in the outdoor seating of a restaurant overlooking the Susquehanna River.

My wife at Tyler Arboretum

We stayed in a hotel in Chadd’s Ford. From there we visited the Tyler Arboretum and the town of Media, where we did some shopping and bought bubble tea.

We had a great dinner for my birthday, outdoors at a nearby restaurant. The summer Olympic Games were occurring in Tokyo, postponed from the year before, and we watched a few events on the television that night.

Our children were off living their lives, moving ahead after the long wait caused by Covid-19. Both called that day.

That summer our oldest had moved out to begin graduate school at Pennsylvania State University. He called to discuss how he and his girlfriend were settling in at their new apartment.

Our youngest was working at a summer camp as a counselor. He called to share how things were going, along with some frustrations regarding the camp staff and how situations were being handled.

Despite the fact that our kids were elsewhere — or maybe because of it — my wife and I felt that we’d mostly left behind us the concerns and restrictions from the past year and a half. It was an enjoyable bit of freedom.

And of hope. We began to see the light at the end of the dark tunnel created by the Covid-19 pandemic. We were feeling that we’d survived, that life would go on, that we could enjoy some of the dividends of having made it this far — through parenting, through a global contagion, through the more difficult years of our lives.

But all that would be halted just five months later. When my wife experienced a ruptured aneurysm in January of 2022, life would not be as we’d hoped.

We’ve spent the last four years adjusting to what is too easily called the “new normal.” Thoughts of a quick recovery have proven to be unrealistic. My wife lost her job and the ability to do many of the things she enjoyed. She applied for (and ultimately received approval for) federal disability payments.

Instead of living out our later years with travel and some well-earned ease, we are now in the positions of being caregiver taking care of one who’s lost their independence.

Perhaps the timing of it all is what’s most frustrating. We put in the work, we endured the hardships, but now are unable to reap many of the benefits.

It doesn’t feel fair. But I also realize that fairness is not a guarantee for anyone.

What’s left is a constant feeling of discontent, softened now and again by some of life’s simpler pleasures. But I can’t help the urge to look once in a while at what’s not available, and think about whether it might ever be available again.

Memo to Joe Breda

Posted on by under Health Care, Loss

“Matthew – I hope you are well. I’m writing for two reasons:”

So began an email from the head of my division at work, my boss’s boss’s boss’s boss. A guy named Joe Breda.*

He continues: “First, while I know you have made a partial leave request with HR I do not have any information about the circumstances of your leave. It is not necessary for me to know any of the details, but if there is anything I can do to assist please let me know.

“Second, I want to make sure you are aware how the company’s RTO (return to office) policy applies to your situation. Obviously, you are not expected to be in the office on days you have been granted leave. However, you should be in the office – up to three days per week – for days that you are not taking leave. If this presents a hardship, I’m advised that you to consider applying for full leave. Please let me know if you have any questions.
JB”

This email arrived on the eve of my wife being discharged after three and a half months in the hospital.

Me at Johns Hopkins Hospital in February 2022.

In January of 2022, my wife suffered a ruptured cranial aneurysm. After emergency surgery to save her life, she remained in the Johns Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore — first in intensive care, then several weeks as a regular inpatient — until late April. She needed months of physical therapy to recover, and she is still disabled today.

This was an incredibly difficult time for me and my family. We all faced hardship, stress, and worry over this entire period of time.

So to receive this heartless, tone deaf email from upper management did nothing to ease the strain.

In fact it made it worse.

Worse because I applied for and received authorization for 12 weeks of protected leave under FMLA. Joe Breda not only seemed to not know this. But also, his insistence that I adhere to the RTO requirements contradicted what I was previously told by HR, namely that those requirements did not apply to anyone currently exercising their FMLA rights.

Worse because the the uncertainty surrounding the day and manner of my wife’s discharge made it necessary for me to be flexible with my schedule, able to travel to the hospital or discharge facility on short notice. Being required to be physically in the office made that very difficult.

Worse because I was running out of leave. So Joe Breda’s glib, uninformed comment that I “may want to consider applying for full leave” is empty and meaningless.

This email from Joe Breda has eaten at me for close to three years. In all the time since this email, Joe never once inquired about my wife’s health or asked how I was doing.

His offer of assistance — especially since he claimed to not know what was going on — was complete self-serving bullshit.

He kicked me when I was down, using the power of his position, and never apologized or even acknowledged my situation.

So I now realize why this eats at me so much.

It was an abuse of power disguised as a “clarification of current policy.”

It was forcing me to concede when I was vulnerable, something that thugs do.

It was bullying.

Joe Breda has left the company and no longer is in a position of authority over me.

So I now want to take the time to say what I have been wanting to say for three years.

Fuck you, Joe Breda.

*Yes, this is his real name. A Google search will bring up some information about him, including the company where we both worked. But I won’t say more than that.

Hand Sanitizer and the Disease

Posted on by under Health Care

This week I happened upon the fact that the Food and Drug Administration is updating their policy for testing alcohol hand sanitizers for the presence of methanol.

The notice rightly points out that methanol–unlike ethanol, the alcohol in beer, wine, and spirits–is poisonous. It goes on to say that “FDA became aware of reports of fatal methanol poisoning of consumers who ingested alcohol-based hand sanitizer products that were manufactured with methanol or methanol-contaminated ethanol.”

What??

Surely I misread that. Why is anyone ingesting hand sanitizer? Do they mean just accidentally licking it off one’s hands? Should I be concerned?

So with a little internet sleuthing, I tracked down one of the FDA’s sources of information, a study published by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. The study says that “cases of ethanol toxicity following ingestion of alcohol-based hand sanitizer products have been reported in persons with alcohol use disorder.”

So that’s it. People suffering from serious alcoholism have been known to be so desperate as to resort to drinking hand sanitizer.

It’s hard for me to imagine someone having so little to live for that they are seeking solace in whatever small, temporary effect one can get from consuming hand sanitizer.  These are people who need serious help, who probably have lost all connection with friends and family, and with the beauty that still can be found in life.

So the FDA’s response to this is to ensure that hand sanitizer does not accidentally kill these people.

Wouldn’t the more humane response be to actually help these people live a better life? Am I the only one who thinks that we are merely addressing symptoms here without even pretending to try to cure the disease?

Do either the FDA or CDC acknowledge this gap in response?

No.

The FDA takes a formalistic approach by pointing out that methanol is not an acceptable ingredient in any drug product and should not be used due to its toxic effects.

The CDC takes a hands-off, public health approach by admonishing against drinking hand sanitizer and requesting that public health officials keep track of times when people do.

But compassion for the down and out? No.

Much can be done in the United States to alleviate poverty and suffering. We do, in fact, know exactly how it can be done. However, we, The People, have generally chosen not to do it. And yes, it is a choice.

That says so much about us, doesn’t it?

Smoking Outside

Posted on by under Critical Thinking, Health Care

I acknowledge that smoking tobacco can lead to various health problems. This today is widely known. Anyone who claims to not know has not been paying attention.

Specifically, the bad effects of smoking arise from first hand smoke. As in, I choose to smoke a cigarette and I am inhaling the smoke into my own lungs of my own free will.

So let’s get to the other stuff.

It has gotten to the point where smoking anything is disallowed nearly everywhere. So I think we have unfortunately moved far beyond what is protective of public health and into a new phase of social disapproval.

Specifically, I wonder why smoking is explicitly disallowed in places where it won’t harm anyone other than the smoker. Outdoors is my primary example. Who is being protected when smoking is forbidden outside and away from other people?

There are legitimate concerns about second hand smoke when the smokers smoke all day in enclosed spaces such as a car or at home, and the nonsmokers have no choice but to regularly breathe the smoke into their lungs.

That is not the case outdoors. Smoke blows away on the wind, yes? It is dispersed, becomes less concentrated. So unless you are sitting outside within a few feet of a smoker who is blowing smoke directly into your face, I don’t see that there is a problem.

And if a smoker is blowing smoke directly into your face, that is extremely inconsiderate and you have every right to ask them (tell them?) to stop. It is basic manners and social intelligence.

So back to the ban on outdoor smoking. Why is that a thing? Perhaps it’s because those in charge of such outdoor spaces feel that people cannot be trusted to self-police their own smoking with civility.

Honestly, common courtesy does seem to be diminishing these days, as more and more people think it’s okay to issue death threats when they have a simple disagreement. Maybe making a blanket ban just removes the potential for violent dispute.

But we are dangerously close (if we’re not there already) of moving from legitimate social disapproval for the sake of public health* to a moralistic society where smokers are seen as flawed, dirty people.

Maybe that’s what was intended all along. I don’t know. But it’s never a good idea to make an entire class of people somehow less human. We’ve seen where that can lead and it’s nowhere good.

*Legitimate social disapproval for the sake of public health includes the disapproval of, among other things, poor personal hygiene (not washing hands, defecating outdoors, etc.), not wearing seat belts in motor vehicles, not wearing face masks to prevent the spread of infectious disease.

The Enigma of Departure

Posted on by under Family, Health Care, Loss

Most of the time, when you part company with someone, you fully expect to see them again the next time.

It’s just part of how human interaction works. The expectation of continuity allows so many of our institutions, from family to employment to government, to function.

And yet sometimes, there is a high probability that you could be saying your last goodbye. Managing that is not easy.

My mother is 88 years old this year. She had a stroke over four years ago that has left her disabled and dependent. She lives in a retirement home of her own choosing in California. Each time I visit, saying goodbye requires that I both believe I will see her again and know that I may not.

My father turned 90 years old in January. Obviously, he is in his twilight years. I haven’t seen him in person in four years, for a variety of reasons including, of course, the global pandemic. But we talk frequently on the phone. Each time I say goodbye, I hope we will speak again in a few days but also wonder if I have said all that I feel I need to say to him.

My sons are both adults and mostly independent. They come and go as it suits them. All it would take is some careless driving or an undiagnosed health condition to make that casual wave as they go out the door be the last time we see each other.

My wife was in a hospital in Baltimore, struggling to recover from a serious health emergency during the first half of this year. I was visiting her almost every day. But each time I left for the day, I carried with me the possibility that she might not make it until the next day. If I knew for sure that she was dying, I would not go home. But the doctors and nurses assured me that she’d be there when I returned. I had to trust them. And I know myself enough to know that if I try to get by with my reserve of energy at zero, I won’t survive either. That helps nobody.

So the goodbyes are loaded with silent meaning and unspoken hopes and fears. There is no other way it can be. I cast all my bets on there being a tomorrow with my wife, my children, my father, my mother. And then spin the wheel.

Giorgio de Chirico painting artwork