August 25, 2006
It was a real blow to get home and find that a virus of some sort has wiped out half of my periphial components/drivers...(thank god I saved my old keyboard!) I'm still looking to get a full functioning mouse to be fully back, but at least I can navigate in a limited manner, albeit a clumsy one.
I just talked to the cardiac surgeons nurse, and they want me to come into the office at 0945 Monday to discuss just what Dr. Shearer has determined is the proper course of action; and to come in at 0600 Tuesday to be prepped for surgury at 0800.
If anything like the last time, I'll be in post surgical care for about 3 to 7 days; then a two month rehab at home.
The speed with which thay are moving on the surgury does have me a bit scared...hell, to be honest, I'm terrified. they have put the fatality risk of the surgury at 35-45%..my bypass procedure was rated at 5-10%, so I think I have a good reason to feel a little twinge of fear. I have one of the best surgeons in the Midwest and one of the best Cardiologists in the US looking after me though, so that does help ease my mind that I'm in good hands on the technical end of things, and all the support you've shown me in th last week assures me that the the spiritual/emotional end of it is in even better hands; so as LC Brendon might say "no worries, mate!"
More to follow as I learn of it. Hopefully, Beth and JB can find the time put up a few posts here in my absence to keep everything running.
Posted by: Delftsman3 at
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July 14, 2006
(Gee, I wish I had thought of that, and had the photoshop skills to DO it !...)
Last report is that she came through the surgury like the true trooper she is and is doing at or above expectations.
How about going over and leaving her a little note to buck up her spirits when she gets home? Speaking from experience, I know just how important attitude is in achieving a quick recovery, and knowing people really do care goes a long way in lifting those spirits when your going through the pain of rehab.
Posted by: Delftsman3 at
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June 22, 2006
I, __________________________,
being of sound mind and body, do not wish to be kept
alive indefinitely by artificial means.
Under no circumstances should my fate be put in the
hands of pinhead politicians who couldn't pass
ninth-grade biology if their lives depended on it.
Nor in the hands of doctors who are interested simply
in running up the bills.
If a reasonable amount of time passes and I fail to
ask for at least one of the following:
Bloody Mary,
Margarita,
Scotch and soda,
Martini,
Vodka and Tonic,
Steak,
Lobster or Crab legs,
the remote control,
bowl of ice cream,
the sports page,
chocolate,
or sex
...it should be presumed that I
won't ever get better.
When such a determination is reached, I hereby
instruct my appointed person and attending
physicians to pull the plug, reel in the tubes
and call it a day.
At this point, it is time to call a New Orleans
Jazz Funeral Band * to come do their thing at my
funeral, and ask all of my friends to raise
their glasses to toast the good times we have had.
Signature:
___________________________
Date: ____________________
(* I think I would prefer some Scotch Pipers, along with a bugler and a gun salute)
to GuyK
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May 18, 2006
This is even funnier when you realize it's real!
Next time you have a bad day at work ... think of this guy..Rob is a
commercial saturation diver for Global Divers in Louisiana. He performs
underwater repairs on offshore Drilling rigs.
Below is an E-mail he sent to his sister. She then sent it to radio station
103.2 on FM dial in Ft. Wayne, Indiana, who was sponsoring a 'worst job
experience' contest.
Needless to say, she won.
Hi Sue,
Just another note from your bottom-dwelling brother.
Last week I had a bad day at the office. I know you've been feeling down
lately at work, so I thought I would share my dilemma with you to make you
realize it's not so bad after all. Before I can tell you what happened to
me, I first must bore you with a few technicalities of my job.
As you know, my office lies at the bottom of the sea. I wear a suit to the
office. It's a wet suit. This time of year the water is quite cool. So what
we do to keep warm is this: We have a diesel powered industrial water
heater. This $20,000 piece of equipment sucks the water out of the sea. It
heats it to a delightful temperature. It then pumps it down to the diver
through a garden hose, which is taped to the air hose. Now this sounds like
a darn good plan, and I've used it several times with no complaints.
What I do, when I get to the bottom and start working, is take the hose and
stuff it down the back of my wet suit. This floods my whole suit with warm
water.
It's like working in a Jacuzzi.
Everything was going well until all of a sudden, my butt started to itch.
So, of course, I scratched it. This only made things worse. Within a few
seconds my butt started to burn.
I pulled the hose out from my back, but the damage was done. In agony I
realized what had happened. The hot water machine had sucked up a jellyfish
and pumped it into my suit. Now, since I don't have any hair on my back, the
jellyfish couldn't stick to it. However, the crack of my butt was not as
fortunate. When I scratched what I thought was an itch, I was actually
grinding the jellyfish into the crack of my butt.
I informed the dive supervisor of my dilemma over the communicator. His
instructions were unclear due to the fact that he, along with five other
divers, were all laughing hysterically.
Needless to say I aborted the dive. I was instructed to make three agonizing
in-water decompression stops totaling thirty-five minutes before I could
reach the surface to begin my chamber dry decompression. When I arrived at
the surface, I was wearing nothing but my brass helmet.
As I climbed out of the water, the medic, with tears of laughter running
down his face, handed me a tube of cream and told me to rub it on my butt as
soon as I got in the chamber. The cream put the fire out, but I couldn't
poop for two days because my butt was swollen shut.
So, next time you're having a bad day at work, think about how much worse it
would be if you had a jellyfish shoved up your butt.
Now repeat to yourself, "I love my job, I love my job, I love my job."
Now whenever you have a bad day, ask yourself, Is this a jellyfish bad day?
H/T to Jack
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April 25, 2006
Seems that Dr. Karen Weatherby carried out a five year study in Germany on the health effects that ogling a nice set of mammary glands can have on old dogs like me.
Her conclusion?: a ten minute ogle at a womans breasts is as healthy as a half hour workout in the gym. She stated that a "few minutes a day could cut the risk of stroke and heart attack almost in half", and that by "consistantly engaging in this practice, an average man could extend his life by as much as five years"! "There is NO question that gazing at breasts makes men healthier".
So the next time you want to go out on the town for a night of leering with the boys at the local "gentleman's club", just tell your wife that your doing it to improve your health and longevity. (Hmmm, I wonder if this could be considered as a medical expense by my HMO....)
UPDATE: Per request of one of my favorite citizens, I added something just for her under the fold. more...
Posted by: Delftsman3 at
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March 10, 2006
I'm feeling as weak as a puppy, but otherwise pretty good; only the normal aches and pains that us old out of shape codgers experience on a daily basis.
The doctors have totally revamped my drug schedule, and it's great. Only five doses in the morning and three at night. Along with a strict diet plan and a close monitering of weight/B-P, nothing that should be a huge difficulty. Except quitting smoking, of course. I've quit for over a year twice before; hopefully, this time, it will be a permanent cessation. I may try hypnosis reinforcement this time....I've tried everything else, so another new way to go may just be the key that does the trick. Idiotic as it sounds, one of the biggest problems with trying to quit is the fact that I still ENJOY smoking. Yeah, I know how that sounds, and I agree with everything any of you'll say about that piece of lunacy, but nevertheless, it's just a fact of life.
The short term prognosis is fairly decent, and mostly dependent on my own abilities to stick with the program, so I have high confidence that I'll do well.
It will be hard to limit my meat intake, but I really do like vegatables if cooked correctly, so thats doable. Salt will be difficult to deal with, not so much because I'm addicted to it, but because it's hidden in so many things that you'd never think about, and they have me limited to 1500mg a day or less... were you aware that a one ounce serving of pudding has 160mg of salt in it?!? One decent sized Dill Pickle would almost put me over the limit. It's going to be an adventure in eating to see just what I can't anymore.
The worst thing about a stay in the hospital is the seemingly insatiatiable thirst for blood by everyone involved in your care. I swear, even the orderlys seemed to need an ounce or two before they could get on with their other duties. "you'll feel just a little pinch" and "this will be pretty painless" were phrases I truly came to despise, even though ( except in the case of a certain student nurse that seemed to think a blood draw was a hunting expedition for the "PERFECT" vein) for the 99.9 % of the time it was true. I am the victim of Belonephobia (thanks Beth!), or the unreasoning fear of needles. I SEE a needle, and my natural impulse is to be at least two blocks away from the offending implement in the next half second or so, and faster than that, if possible. I can't honestly say that blood draws and IV's are painful, they AREN'T. (again, with the unusual exception of that one clumsy student nurse trying to learn her craft).
The potassium injections they gave me in my stomach four times a day were a bit painful, but then again, not really anything to really get hyper about.
But to me, the smallest guage butterfly needle looked to have the bore of a twenty pounder cannon and served to elevate my B/P by 50 points at the mere contemplation of said instrument corrupting the integrity of my dermal covering. (and when your B/P is at 270/180 to begin with, that gets into stroke territory)
Being the recipiant of the attentions of these vampires on a what seemed like a ten minute basis certainly made things uncomfortable, to say the least....but at least I wasn't screaming like a little girl (and the ice cream they let me have made up for the recaltarance I was feeling over a period of time 
) I don't think I'll ever totally get over my unreasonable fear of needles, but this last week has let me know that I can survive it with at least a little pride left.
Posted by: Delftsman3 at
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It takes awhile to get used to it but don't think of it as being deprived. If you can't have something you want have a little more of something you CAN have. Try looking online for low sodium substitutes and stay away from prepackaged foods. I've missed you and your jokes, sweetie.March 08, 2006
No salt.
No cigarettes.
No fats.
No caffine.
No lazy days spent entirely either in bed or at the computer.
No excuses.
He will make these changes, or he will die, simple as that.
My submissive, michael, suggested that I get some brochures and ask him go ahead and pick out his urn now in the hopes it will sink in that this is no longer a matter of mind over matter or willing one's self to be well in spite of one's behaviors, not that it ever truly was. Sounds cruel. Sounds tough. Maybe that is what is called for.
Honestly, I do not know what to do.
One thing is for certain, I have made sure that no longer will there be beef in abundance, unfettered use of salt, or rich foods in the house. Gone are the days of bringing in a half pound of 3yr old cheese that should have lasted for a very long time, even when shared by 4 adults, only to find it all gone the next day with nothing remaining but the wax rind on the floor in front of the television. And the days of going to the refrigerator to get a roasted chicken to make dinner and finding nothing but a plastic container of bones and scraps. And the days of bringing home sacks of White Castles. And the days of going to a nice restaurant and ordering the entire menu.
No more "Competitive Eating" as michael has so aptly described it.
So now in anticipation of Delfts' arrival home tomorrow, jane is vacuuming and cleaning and setting up his area in the family room so that he will be comfortable. When I get home from work tonight, we are going to pitch in together to clear out his computer desk area. Then I will go through the kitchen and hide everything that he cannot have. michael and jane have already agreed to keep any Blacklisted Foods that they buy for themselves in their room, and I have a small refrigerator to put in there so that they can.
I know he's extremely frustrated right now, a lot of it with me. I did not visit him for as long or as often as he wanted. Nor did I bring snacks and drinks, or sit and baby him like I have done in the past. I was not the loving and doting wife who plumped pillows and slept in a chair until 3am in case he needed a sip of water or a steadying hand to help him to the bathroom. I didn't because I couldn't.
I just wasn't able to emotionally. There is just too much anger and hurt right now, knowing that other than the waiting, he has ultimately succeeded in his passive suicide. There is too much betrayal from the belief that our marriage and our daughter were not good enough for him to want to make the changes he should have made four years ago at the onset of this, changes that would have allowed him to perhaps see Anna graduate from high school.
Every one of you, look into your mirror and take a long look at the person you see. Look around you at all of the people who's lives you touch every day. Look at your children, at your parents, at your husband or your wife and think about how terrible it would be to lose any one of them. Think of how you would grieve them, mourn their loss, miss them every day. Imagine holidays and birthdays and graduations and weddings without them. No more trick or treating, no more trips to the range, no more silly jokes, no more hugs, no more... life.
Now, put yourself in their shoes and know how your death will affect them.
Don't do to them what is happening here.
Mamamontezz
Posted by: Mamamontezz at
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And I would definitely take up Darth Bacon's offer of healthy, but tasty, recipes.
And yes.....LISTEN TO YOUR WIFE! (Speaking for my husband, lol)March 07, 2006
Even at that early hour, he sounded in much better spirits than he had the last several days. His breathing was easier and more relaxed, and he sounded rested. It was quite an improvement over Saturday when we arrived.
I'm still waiting for news on the procedure and what they found. I know they are looking for blockages in his bypass grafts and for a stenosis of his renal arteries. Each of these conditions can contribute to the increased blood pressure and ultimately the fluid build-up that is CHF. They've checked for the stenosis before to no avail, but want to look again to make sure there have been no changes over the last three years.
Hopefully Susan, his nurse on the CHF unit, will call shortly to let me know how the cath went. As soon as I have any news, I will append this post.
Update: I just got off the phone with Susan, the nurse with the sexy voice. (I'm sure that's driving Delfts mad.) She had good news and not so good news.
To start with, he got through the cath just fine. Regardless of how commonplace these things are, a catheterization is always a risky thing. Generally they don't like to do them unless there is no other way to get the information they need. He may think having 7 caths under his belt is no big deal. I beg to differ on that one.
What they found was not good, but neither was it as bad as it could have been. He does have some partial blocks in his bypass grafts. None of them is completely blocked. They want to treat them medically, not surgically, to open the grafts. Now, for 99% of patients, this is a good thing. For Delfts, however, this only means that ultimately they won't be treated.
Delfts has some real issues with Compliance. He is a Taurus, after all, and he knows everything better than anyone else does, especially if it affects him and his creature comforts in any way.
Medications? Only if he feels bad and the pills are within either arm's reach or I'm willing to go look for them for him.
Diet Change? And give up his favorite foods, foods like hard aged cheese, spicy amalgams of meat, pickled or cream style herring, and various wursts and smoked delicacies? I don't think so.
Exercise? Why, that would kill him, not to mention make him sweat and potentially miss a special on the Mating Rituals of Rhinos on Discovery Channel..
Oh, and what about Cigarettes? Do I really need to address that question?
*sighs and shakes my head*
Anyway... He's better. He seems to be improving each day. The tests revealed what I have believed for a long time. Now it is up to him. He can comply and be assimilated, or he can fight and end up in a hole. Basically, those are his choices. He'd best start taking them seriously.
Mamamontezz
Posted by: Mamamontezz at
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March 06, 2006
I went on my final break of the day to see the Spousal Unit. Bear in mind that I work in the basement in an obscure cul de sac behind food services in the north east corner of a huge campus, and that Delfts is on the third floor of an added wing, attached willy-nilly like a mis-chosen puzzle piece at the southwest corner of this same huge campus. Now consider I only had 15 minutes to get there, check on him, and get back to my official duties as the Voice of the Hospital.
So off I go, zigging and zagging, jigging and jogging, up the elevator, past heart patients on their little hallway walks between the big read hearts on the walls, each heart placed 25 ft apart to track their progress, until at last I reach the CICU. I round the bend at team 4, straight down the hallway toward team 3, hit the wall button for access, pick up steam at the nurses desk, then look up to see that his room is dark, the door wide open, the bed empty, and the entire unit is Delfts-Free.
I cannot describe the momentary feeling I had when I saw that room.
After I found my wits, I went to the nurse at the counter just outside the room and asked where he had been moved. She was not able to find his name in the census, so I put two and two together, decided on the new Heart Failure Unit, and walked over. And there he was, alone in his room watching Jesse James grind an exhaust pipe for some chopper on the Discovery Channel.
I wasn't able to talk to his nurse, but from what Delfts said he had a bad angina attack last night. They gave him morphine and darvocet to help with the pain from that. His blood pressure is now so low (for him, anyway) that he feels like he has no strength and is fainty. Even at that, his top number is 144 and his bottom number is fondling 100.
Because that is seen as progress, they decided he didn't need to be in the CICU any longer and put him in a "Step Down Unit" specific to CHF patients. His lungs sounded a lot clearer, they've turned down the volume of his O2, and his color is a little better.
I tried to get him to use the keyboard the hospital provides for wireless internet, but he can't figure out how to use it. Of course, he's still tying to figure out his basic, no frills cell phone, so there's not going to be enough time to teach him how to cruise the net from his room. He simply won't be here long enough.
Hopefully he'll be better tomorrow and they will make a decision on cathing him again or not.
At the very least, he's had his last cigarette, whether he knows it now or not.
A last note: To all of the wonderful people, friends and strangers, old acquaintences and new ones, Emperors and minions, you cannot imagine how much your kindness has meant to all of us.
Each comment has been printed and taken to Delfts so that he can read them all, and I will tell you all now that there is no better medicine than the love of your friends and your family. As far as we are concerned, some of you have long ago transcended the realm of friend and truly are now family.
Thank you all so very much for your many kindnesses.
Mamamontezz
Posted by: Mamamontezz at
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March 04, 2006
So finally, after a week of this he finally decided to call the doctor. The triage nurse set an appointment for this morning at 8:15 based on how he described his symptoms. We went to bed and got up early and made the drive to the doctor's office for what we believed would be a scrip for antibiotics and a good cough medicine.
What we got was something entirely different.
Based on his history of coronary artery disease, his family histories of both Congestive Heart Failure and Cancer, his sudden loss of weight over the last 6 months without any effort, and the way he presented at the office, the doctor looked at us and asked which ER we preferred, because Delfts was going to one of them and we might as well go to the one where we wanted him admitted. Delfts did not have bronchitis or pleurosy as he believed. Delfts is in some level of Congestive Heart Failure.
Off we went to the ER, where he was taken in almost immediately, seen by a full set of techs and physicians, and admitted into the CICU. He is on a continuous nitro IV, has been given Lasix(sp) for the fluid build up, and will probably undergo a contrast catheterization on Monday to check his bypass grafts.
He had what appeared to be a small silent heart attack this afternoon while I was visiting, and the nurses are aware of it. The cardiologist believes he has had at least one other earlier this week. They have drawn blood for testing for the heart markers to make sure that isn't the case.
Also, because he has lost 40 pounds and 4 waist sizes in 6 months without trying, because he admitted to some bleeding and fresh blood in the toilet, because of his coloring, and because he has a family history of it, they will also be checking him for various cancers.
So what he thought was just a bad case of bronchitis that he could ignore truly was not what it appeared. And he delayed treatment for almost a week because he did not want to go to the doctor. I think he was afraid that if he went, he wouldn't be able to go to Austin in April. Silly man...
[insert appropriate derogatory, gender-specific observation here]
He's comfortable. He's sleeping. He's eating better than he has all week, and he's being treated for the fluid and the cardiac episodes.
He asked that I let you all know, and this was the best way to do it.
Keep him in your thoughts, and I will try to print off all comments to this post for him to read. Even yours, Karlo. *grins*
Because he is in CICU, they will not let him have a phone, which also means no dial-up even if I could take in the Ancient Ritual Laptop of Doom™ and set it up for him.
As soon as I know anything, I will let you all know right here.
Posted by: Mamamontezz at
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