The Man whom my Son Grieves

On February 1, 2006 Bustamante took a mission that my son had been scheduled for. My son was told to pack his gear and get on a plane to go home for a two week break from the war. During his first deployment, he'd refused the leave stating that there were other men with children who needed it more. But this deployment was different. Matt had a wife and a child he'd barely gotten the chance to see. So he got on the airplane and went home. Unfortunately, Bustamante didn't get a chance to do that. The mission that he took for Matt was his last mission. I don't know the details of what happened, but I think that it was an IED attack. Three of my son's buddies didn't make it. Bustamante was one of them. My son has carried this guilt with him since it happened. Somehow, when we think of the sacrifices that soldiers make, we think of leaving families and children behind. We think of eating MRE's and sleeping on the bear ground. We rarely think of the pieces of their souls that they leave in painful holes. We can be crass and cruel about the erratic behavior we see in some veterans, because we can't grasp the psychic pain that causes it. My son, who as an 18 month old saw his brother fall down and went back to extend his hand to help him get up, carries guilt because he feels his vacation sealed the death of his friend. This is another part of the sacrifice that he makes. One that rarely shows on the surface.

Waiting

I'm finding that I don't like waiting. It is the hardest thing about being a patient. Waiting for appointments is painful and waiting for the test results after the appointments is excruciating. Today I am waiting for my follow-up cardiology appointment. I feel as if time has suddenly slowed to a stand still and I am about to come out of my skin. Another 45 minutes to go before I can leave and I am feeling every second as it passes. I really don't like waiting.

The Appointment

In October, after seeing my cardiologist, I decided that I need help losing weight. I haven't been successful at doing it on my own. I considered weight watchers, which would be convienient since they have meetings where I work. But, I also watched the watchers for a while. Most seem to lose a modest amount of weight in the very beginning, but gain it back as soon as they quit going to weight watchers. A couple lost a significant amount of weight, but again, put it right back on. The super star (who is a good friend of mine) trimmed down to a healthy weight, but is slowly putting it back on. I'm sure that they must have long term success stories, but I'm not seeing them around here. I also thought about calling the health coach back and getting back on with a nutricionist, but the phone consultations weren't very helpful. She had no idea what was going on with me and just ended up repeating facts to me that I already knew, or could find easily online. I decided this time I need to get serious with it and go for medical help. I wrote about finding the doctor in this post.

Yesterday I had my first appointment with the new doctor and her staff. My first impression was of a clean, orderly and well appointed office. The staff were very efficient and friendly. I was suprised to find that one of the receptionist, the nurse and the doctor were all fairly heavy women, in fact their BMI's might possibly be more than mine. While that seemed like it should have me heading out the door in a hurry, it actually gave me comfort. It let me know that they aren't going to buy into the guilt trips and blame games that current medicine and the diet industry tout. These women know what it is to hit a plataeu or gain while you are on the diet plan.

The history and examination was thourough. They have a scale that determines fat percentages and a machine that calculates metabolism, and the exam included an ekg. I was not all that comfortable with the metabolism test. It is similar to a pulmonary test in that I was wearing nose plugs and breathing into a hose. But it intailed breathing in and out for 10 minutes. The test made me panic at first and was hard to get through.

After the tests, the doctor came in and we talked about her take on my history and what her treatment plan would be. She gave me an order for a lot of blood tests and put me on a prelimenary diet plan. She explained that the diet was a 1500 calorie diet designed to treat people with metabolic syndrome. She asked that I attempt the diet as much as I could over the holidays with the exception of Thanksgiving day, and that I substitute as little as possible. Actually, I've already substituted a bit. The bread that the diet asked for does not come in a whole wheat or a whole grain version, and that is something that I am particular on. But I was able to find a different brand that is whole wheat and very similar to the labeling on that bread. I'm considering calling and talking to them about the difference .

I went today to have the blood tests drawn. The phlebotomist was able to hit the vein on the very first try. I was happy about that because there were about 12 vials of blood and a urine test.

All in all, I think that this is as close to what I need as I'm bound to get. I wish that the doctor's office wasn't closer to Alabama than it is to my house or office. But, I'm pretty pleased. I go back in two weeks to find out the results of the lab tests and for a follow up visit. Seeing as we are heading into the holidays it probably is going to be a rocky start for a diet...but I really have to start this.

Goodbye Again

She was one of the first to talk to me in the support group. I was just newly diagnosed with breast cancer and she was quick to show me compassion and friendship. There is a heirocy among survivors. Stage 4's are the scariest and thus usually told that they need a seperate group to meet their needs and to keep other survivors comfotable. That practice makes stage 3's then, the sickest people in the room, so we become "those ladies". "They are really sick and they might not make it". The effect is subtle, but unmistakeable. Jan didn't buy into that mentality and welcomed me. She was a warm and caring friend. Despite the good prognosis that she enjoyed by being a stage 1, she passed away today after 15 years of surviving. The altruism that cancer dosen't get you, it's the collateral damage. I am shocked and broken once again. Good bye Jan Kaye. You are missed.
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Sent from my Virgin Mobile.

What happened to NoJoWriMo?

I did well for a whole week. I even had a subject for last Sunday's post. I was going to write about the heart break left in the wake of suicide. I was walking in the Out of the Darkness walk in support of my friend Debra and Team Kenneth when I experienced extreme shortness of breath and palpitations with dizziness. The walk was twice around the park and after the first round half the group left, so I took the opportunity to excuse myself. I called my doctors office who told me to go to the emergency room. The most logical one was the one that was the one that my cardiologist works with. They have a world class heart institute there, so I thought that I'd be OK there. Over all it wasn't an awful experience, but if I was actually having the heart attack that I was afraid I was, I must say, I'd be dead. I was in the emergency waiting room for 4 hours before I was taken back to the emergency room. Then it was another 2 hours before I was seen by anyone. I understand that it was a busy night, but I was clearly having heart problems and 6 hours is a long time. When I finally was able to see a doctor, she was distracted and received a phone call half way through the history. Then she told the doctor she was talking to that she had three people she wanted him to see. I think that he was giving her a hard time because she left the room to talk to him. She didn't come back for another 2 hours. So eight hours after I arrived with shortness of breath, dizziness and a pulse of over 120 beats per minute, I finally got the doctor's attention. She told me that she wanted to keep me over night but the attending had to admit me, so I would have to wait until he arrived until I could be moved into a room. At 2:00 am the pissed off attending came into my room and was short with me. I wanted to give it back to him an let him know that I'd walked in the door at 4:00 pm and it wasn't my fault that he was having to admit a patient in the middle of the night. He works under my cardiologist and believe me, I plan to voice my opinion with him about this attending's behavior. He told me that I needed to stay so he could order a few tests and I agreed. For another 2 hours I was assured that I had a room and would be moving into it. When they finally moved, it was to a place that resembled a surgical recovery room, but the bed didn't have either a pillow or a blanket. There also was no phone in the room, or a call button. There was a television, not that I was interested in watching it at that hour, which was good because I couldn't find a remote control. I was afraid that this was going to be my room and the nurse didn't show up for another 20-30 minutes. I asked her where I was and she explained that it was an express admit ward. At this point, I was thinking that this was anything but express. I was kept there for another hour and then moved to the Cardiac Care Unit. By that time it was after 6:30 am. I was told that I could still have nothing by mouth because I was scheduled to have a stress test and an electrocardiogram. At this point I had been outside walking and then in the hospital without anything to drink for 18 hours. Because I have diabetes isipidus due to primary hyperaldosteronism, I was getting very dehydrated, to the point that I was beginning to panic. Also, the doctor failed to order the CPAP machine that I needed. It didn't take long for them to come get me to have my tests. The stress test replicated the problems that I was having in the park. And the echo doctor was very nice. I was then given an earful of the internal problems of the transport department at the hospital as 4 attendees took me back to my room, complaining because I was on a stretcher and not in a chair. After getting back to my room I was given the privilege of ordering restaurant style from the food service for lunch and encouraged to drink...not that I needed encouragement. They came in every 3 hours to take vitals and draw enzymes, but I was left alone for most of the time...Let me tell you, day time TV sucks! I'm really dreading retirement. Around 3:00 pm Dr. Mashmann, (yes, that is his real name) came in. He's a really nice guy. He explained that my ekg and my stress test revealed nothing unexpected and that he was waiting for the results from the echo. I understand that he was thinking that I was experiencing a panic attack, but I didn't think so. I walk a lot. I do charity walks a lot. I've never had a panic attack because of one of them, and I was terribly embarrassed by this problem. This walk was to support Debra, not to be about me. I just wanted to be there to hold her hand and give her a hug. I waited for the results of the test through out the afternoon. At one point I asked Carla, the nurse, about the meaning of having to wait so long for the results. She said that they stack them all up and read them one by one. Not like pathology who pull likely results out of the pile and read them first. It doesn't give me a clue about my test, but she seemed amazed by my observation of waiting for a pathology result. At 6:00 pm the PA came in and told me that they would release me without the results of the echo. She gave me a prescription for a medication that I am extremely sensitive too and that my nephrologist took me off of two years ago because it causes me to become hypokalemic. When I told her about this, she argued with me and said that I was on spironolactone and maybe I could cut the offensive medication in half and keep an eye on my potassium level. Potassium isn't like blood pressure or sugar levels that have a home test. I don't have a way to keep a watch on those levels by myself. I realized that this argument was not one that I could win, so I decided to drop it and take up the medication changes with my nephrologist who might have a better plan. On Wednesday, I went to see my nephrologist. He had the result of my echo. It revealed that I have left ventricular hypertrophy. That is a hardening and thickening of the left ventricle which is the main pumping instrument of my heart. He told me that I was right to consult him before taking that medication and that the medication that was prescribed would have caused severe problems. He advised me to lose 20lbs and to go out of my way to stay hydrated. And to avoid exerting myself until I can see my cardiologist. In the week that has passed have been a challenge. I can tell you, people are way too quick to label someone as lazy. Just today, and at the church that has been so supportive of me, one person couldn't understand why I couldn't haul two heavy artificial trees over to the table. My brother and sister think that my problems were caused by poisoning from the medications that I take. I have lost my patience with them because of this. I told them that I can show them that our father died of long QT syndrome. He wasn't poisoned by the medication he was taking. He needed a defibrillator, but that was after his time. My bother actually backed down. He asked me how to tell your children. I told him to be checked for it yourself and then to let your child know that they could have it or not. If not, they don't have to worry about their children having it. If you do and they do and their children do, it is easily treated with an inexpensive medication. You can keep your children from dying by knowing if they have it. He wasn't receptive to the message. Too bad, because I'm pretty sure he has it. As a side note: The scariest thing about left ventricular hypertrophy is that it prolongs the QT interval.

So, I see my cardiologist on the 23rd and I will kill the man's schedule with questions, not the least of which is why weren't you ordering yearly echo's for me? I have a scary diagnosis that developed while I was on the medications that normally treat it. And the cause of the diagnosis is a disease that I've carefully controlled and shouldn't have caused. I'm not sure that the treatments that I underwent for cancer aren't in play for this diagnosis and I'm not sure what the difference in the way it is treated would be.

Emotionally, I'm pissed off. I'm tired of all this. I have jumped through loops to control my blood pressure, and this diagnosis isn't going to help. I have survived so many zebras, I feel that this one is a cheap shot. I don't die easily, so give me a break hear.

And I'm sorry that I've not kept up with NoJoWriMo. I really wanted to do this, but it has taken me a week to digest this.

Thoughts

During my quite time this morning I was thinking that it would be so much easier if God would just text us. Not anything fantastic like the winning numbers to the lottery (though that would be nice), but things like "Watch your mouth; you are about to hurt someone" or " "Do you really want to do that?" Or even something as general as "Have faith". But it seems that I wander around so much of the time trying to do the right thing and not having a clue as to which right thing to choose. And then I come to realize that the role of the Holy Spirit is to be that text in our lives. I have to wonder why I find it so easy to ignore His warnings and instructions. Where do other people find the faith to hear him so clearly and always obey? How do they get the confidence that God has their backs and so they step forward without fear? I want that kind of faith, but I wonder if I don't have it after 39 years as a christian, will I ever get it.

Finally Friday

The week has been long and made harder by the cold that is now entering it's forth week. What has me discouraged is that I overheard someone on the elevator today complain about their cold lasting for six weeks. If this cold doesn't go away soon, I'm going to go to the doctor and take the steroids that I know they will prescribe. I really hate steroids. They make me feel buzzy and irritable and make me gain weight for weeks after I've stopped taking them. I'm going to go home and chill out tonight and sleep in tomorrow and see if I can sleep this thing away. I hope this isn't a foreshadow of the way this entire winter is going to go.

Cold Weekend Coming

Three weeks ago we were still having temperatures in the mid 80's. This picture was taken then and we were barely starting the change of leaves into the fall. But suddenly the leaves are gone from the trees and the temperatures are getting down into the low 30's. Everyone I know is sick. I am sick and not getting any better. Fall is my favorite season and I'm sad that this year we didn't get one.

Happy Birthday Smiley Face

Happy first birthday smiley face. You have grown up so much in the last year. A year ago you were so small. And now you are up and nearly walking. You chew your food with your brand new teeth and you play with your toys and with Cliftons when he isn't looking. But the best thing is that you get to spend your first birthday with your brand new daddy...well, he isn't really brand new, but he is to you because you just met him. Now he is home and you can share cake with him.

Voting no on proposition 2

Should a $10 surchage be imposed on motor vehicle registration to fund increasing the number of trama centers in the state of Georgia from 16 to 30? I voted no. So did, it seems, most Georgians. It would be easy to say that we already pay too damn much at the DMV. Even so, the carrot of heightened emergency care is enticing and for such a small personal cost. Ten dollars a year is a cheap insurance policy. Still, I don't believe it is sustainable to open so many centers that would require the centers to provide care for people who can't pay. Why sink another hospital?
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Sent from my Virgin Mobile.

And tomorrow all the nasty ads will be gone

It's November, and the beginning of NoJoMo. I think that I'm going to give it a shot, but can't guarantee that my posts will be substantive...have they ever been? The other nice thing about it being November is that tomorrow, all the nasty political TV ads will be gone. I won't have to watch Roy Barnes and Nathan Deal throwing mud on each others character. I am so looking forward to being able to watch TV or listen to the radio without the added rancor. And maybe toward the end of the month as people start getting out their Christmas decorations they will even remember to pull all the clutter of signs off their lawns. I kind of think that tomorrow is going to be a pink slip blood bath. People around here seem to be saying "If I've ever heard of you before, you are so not going to get my vote. "