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Don't Burk Me

Had a great day, finding a new venue for usefulness. I wish I could tell you but then I'd have to kill you.

Unfortunately, upon my return from an outing, I needed care. I was apprehensive since there wasn't any Tina-experienced staff available. (This was my first venture back in my wheelchair since my spine was so injured about a week ago.) I had to settle for caregivers who, historically, don't understand my speech nor "get" my care. One PCT and one RN who ended up hurting me... Again.

Given no other choice, I needed to get out of wet pants and grab a nap before our monthly ALSA support group meeting. I felt I had to trust in the system and the process and give these caregivers a chance. (Famous last thought.)

Same issues, different caregivers, another day. Things went bad immediately. I could not even believe it. What do I have to do? Die?  They fumbled my head control on my wheelchair, then took my hands from the armrests. I implored them to hold up my arms. They were clueless about supporting my arms so I could breathe!! And once more, they failed miserably at communicating with me (the patient). Once more, they failed to realize the key issue, breathing.

Once more, I was forced to act to save myself. I scooted my butt down to try to keep air going both ways. (Marginally effective and excruciatingly painful on my already-traumatized coccyx {tailbone} and lumbar spine.)  Enter, two more registered nurses who ascertained the breathing issue but failed to do the obvious, (lift my arms).

They did manage to get me into the transfer sling. Another issue: the original PCT and RN persisted in holding my arms to my stomach while I was in the sling despite my demands not to touch me. This action taxes my breathing! The weight of them pushing my hands/arms to my stomach is a wonderful way to suffocate me. I think the term is "Burking".

Is it any wonder that I curse those who insist on "helping" me? Fight or flight mode isn't pretty. By the way, I'm going to be more particular than ever with regard to who I allow to touch me. I'm not willing to let incompetence kill me. Bring your A-game, read your email, pay attention in huddle, and allow me to enjoy my remaining life.
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Location: 2720 East Madison Street, Seattle, WA 98112, USA

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