Even I get bored listening to the story of my pulmonary embolism over and over again. So I am going to tell it once, as completely as I can remember, and you may read or not read depending upon your interest.
My first recognized symptoms began on Monday, September 26th, in the early evening. Was it six o’clock or seven? I don’t know. Since I didn’t anticipate it to be the beginning of a life changing event, I didn’t make a special note of the time. Suffice it to say it was early Monday evening. I began to experience a pain that felt like a cracked rib on my left side. The pain was moderate but bearable so I tended to ignore it. I slept poorly that night and still had the pain in the morning.
The pain worsened on Tuesday, September 27th, but I still managed to attend a Weight Watchers meeting at 5:45 p.m. Tuesday evenings, after WW, Penny and I usually go to dinner at Applebee’s. We have a full week until our next weigh-in. But that evening I begged off and we went on home. Penny drove my car as far as her house (I have to be feeling bad to give someone else my car keys) and then I drove the last two miles to my house on untraveled back streets. I made it home, grabbed a light snack and dressed for bed, intending to make it an early night. When I lay flat on the bed the pain was so bad I had to get up. I headed for the recliner where I spent many a night while nursing Joe. At this point I started to think about calling for an ambulance. But I didn’t know what I could tell them other than I hurt. I dozed off and on in the recliner until I came awake at midnight.
Wednesday, September 28th, barely awake I struggled to the bathroom to relieve my bladder. I sat down on the commode. The next thing I knew it was five minutes later and I was nose down on the bathroom floor. My first thought is what am I doing on the floor? As I attempted to get up the pain was so debilitating that I didn’t think I would be able to get off the floor and out of the bathroom. I am very grateful that the bathroom is handicap accessible because I was able to use the grab bars next to the toilet and on the wall to pull myself to my feet. There was no question I would call for an ambulance. As I made my way back to the recliner, I turned on the porch light and unlocked the front door. I slipped my feet into the canvas slip-ons that I wear for slippers, collapsed into the recliner, picked up phone, and dialed 911.
“911 Operator, what is your emergency?”
“I need an ambulance,” I responded. We went through the address thing, then my symptoms and finally I was assured than an ambulance was seconds away.
When the knock came on the door, I tried to respond. But between the solid core door and my weak voice, the EMTs and the ambulance crew couldn’t hear me. But they pushed the door open and I assured then they were in the right place. They put the BP cuff on me, asked a few questions, and soon I was on the gurney. They turned off my inside lights, I managed to lock the front door, and then I was down the ramp and being loaded into the ambulance. The fire department EMTs cleared me for transport and the ambulance pulled away from the house.
I drifted in and out of consciousness and only came alert when I was being wheeled into the ER. I had nurses and an ER technician attaching leads to my body and the BP cuff to my arm. Then I was wheeled into x-ray to determine if my ribs were broken. They weren’t. But my lungs appeared clouded on the x-ray. The ER doctor had a preliminary diagnosis in mind when she sent me down for a CT scan of my lungs. When I finally got back to my cell in the ER and the doctor returned I asked her if I would be going home.
She replied, “Not anytime soon.”
She then told me I had a pulmonary embolism and I wouldn’t be going home until they pulled me back from the brink. They started me on Norco for pain, Coumadin to thin the clots, and an antibiotic to prevent infection. They admitted me even though they didn’t have a bed for me - they needed to wait for another patient to be discharged. After starting on the Norco I drifted out of consciousness. I awoke when they moved me into a bed in the medical wing.
I knew I needed to contact some people to take care of the cat and my mail. I had deadlines I was going to miss and I needed to let people know I was down but not out. While the deadlines would be missed, the submissions would be made late rather than never. I turned on my cell phone and brought up my address book. My cell phone does not hold a charge so I had only minutes to write down important contact phone numbers. I called my friend Penny to tell her we wouldn’t be walking our two miles that morning. I gave Penny the pet sitter’s phone numbers and asked her to tell Teri I was hospitalized and request that she look after Red. I called the only CWC member whose phone number was in my cell, because we had car pooled a few times, to let the club board know that the newsletter was going to be significantly late. Then I phoned my daughter so that a family member would know I was very ill but planned to recover. After that last phone call I zonked out.
At some point an x-ray technician appeared with a portable x-ray machine to take another picture of my lungs. I had an ultrasound of my legs to see if there were any clots lingering in wait to attack my lungs; none were found. I assured everyone for the fourth time that I had not recently taken a long airplane flight or a long road trip. I had not been sitting for an extended period with my legs immobile. I walk for one full hour, four days a week, a distance over two miles. I am not a couch potato, I do not smoke, I eat healthy, and I don’t engage in high risk activities or non-activities.
When the doctor came in late Wednesday afternoon I asked her to stop the Norco. The medication left my brains scrambled. She agreed to change from the Norco to Vicodin which is only half the strength of the Norco.
Wednesday night was Grand Central Station for the entire swing and grave yard shift. I would drift off to sleep then awake suddenly with a body standing over me. They would always apologize for startling me. They would check my IV or my oxygen, take my blood pressure, ask if I needed anything. “Yes, please, I would like to sleep longer than thirty minutes without interruption.”
Sunday, October 2, 2011
Monday, May 30, 2011
Memorial Day 2011
Memorial Day is a day dedicated to remembering those who died in service to our country.
While every war has its opponents: people who don’t believe in the cause, don’t believe the US should be involved in a particular place, or people who are opposed to any war in principle. Those opponents must not ignore the sacrifice made for us by those who served and died. The very freedom that allows people to protest and to burn the American flag if they so choose was won by those who fought and died in defense of that freedom. Nor should we forget those who fought and are still living.
Having been an Air Force wife during Viet Nam, I knew some of those young men and women who gave their lives or returned home damaged in mind or body. I won’t say that I support one war or oppose another. My feelings about the current conflicts in the world are of no importance. What is important is that we salute our service men and women, those who have died, and those who were willing to die, who strive to ensure that we do have the freedom to worship as we choose, to vote as we choose, to protest as we choose.
We have a moral obligation to take care of those whose minds and bodies were broken by going to war in our defense. While parents and loved ones mourn the death of their fallen warriors, those warriors may be the lucky ones, their suffering is over. What are we as a country doing for those who have returned to us wishing they had died, preferring death to the hell in which they are currently living. Every day, in every large city and a few smaller ones, we see those wounded warriors living in poverty, despised as the dregs of humanity.
We are not the first country to abandon those to whom we owe so much. Rome did as much to their returning warriors after the campaign against Hannibal. England was as bad or worse in their treatment of returning soldiers after the Napoleonic Wars. Are we destined to repeat the sins of the past? Can we not learn from the mistakes of others.
I won't pretend to know the answers. I don't know exactly what it is we should do to correct this outrageous wrong. But we should do something. We have a bi-lateral Congress of the USA, senators and representatives who should make it their priority to find a solution for these issues.
So if I can urge you to take one step, as a free member of a free democratic society, contact your congress person and your senator, and urge them to address this shame that confronts America, protest any decisions to reduce funds dedicated to helping our wounded warriors. We have survivors of many wars in our midst, survivors of World War II, of the Korean conflict, of Viet Nam, of Desert Storm, of Afghanistan and of Iraq.
Ask yourself, while you are thinking of your loved ones who surrendered their lives for our country, what are we doing for those who are dying a slower and more painful death because they are abandoned by the very country for which they gave their best.
Live long and prosper
While every war has its opponents: people who don’t believe in the cause, don’t believe the US should be involved in a particular place, or people who are opposed to any war in principle. Those opponents must not ignore the sacrifice made for us by those who served and died. The very freedom that allows people to protest and to burn the American flag if they so choose was won by those who fought and died in defense of that freedom. Nor should we forget those who fought and are still living.
Having been an Air Force wife during Viet Nam, I knew some of those young men and women who gave their lives or returned home damaged in mind or body. I won’t say that I support one war or oppose another. My feelings about the current conflicts in the world are of no importance. What is important is that we salute our service men and women, those who have died, and those who were willing to die, who strive to ensure that we do have the freedom to worship as we choose, to vote as we choose, to protest as we choose.
We have a moral obligation to take care of those whose minds and bodies were broken by going to war in our defense. While parents and loved ones mourn the death of their fallen warriors, those warriors may be the lucky ones, their suffering is over. What are we as a country doing for those who have returned to us wishing they had died, preferring death to the hell in which they are currently living. Every day, in every large city and a few smaller ones, we see those wounded warriors living in poverty, despised as the dregs of humanity.
We are not the first country to abandon those to whom we owe so much. Rome did as much to their returning warriors after the campaign against Hannibal. England was as bad or worse in their treatment of returning soldiers after the Napoleonic Wars. Are we destined to repeat the sins of the past? Can we not learn from the mistakes of others.
I won't pretend to know the answers. I don't know exactly what it is we should do to correct this outrageous wrong. But we should do something. We have a bi-lateral Congress of the USA, senators and representatives who should make it their priority to find a solution for these issues.
So if I can urge you to take one step, as a free member of a free democratic society, contact your congress person and your senator, and urge them to address this shame that confronts America, protest any decisions to reduce funds dedicated to helping our wounded warriors. We have survivors of many wars in our midst, survivors of World War II, of the Korean conflict, of Viet Nam, of Desert Storm, of Afghanistan and of Iraq.
Ask yourself, while you are thinking of your loved ones who surrendered their lives for our country, what are we doing for those who are dying a slower and more painful death because they are abandoned by the very country for which they gave their best.
Live long and prosper
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Better Late than Never
I intended to blog immediately after returning from Denver. Man plans, God laughs. I have no idea how I ever had time to work for all those years. One of my children (who shall remain nameless) even cautioned me against retiring because I would be bored out of my mind. Needless to say, that child was wrong.
I landed in Denver on Tuesday evening, shortly before DIA was closed due to a thunder and lightning storm. Another member of my aunt’s family was arriving later that evening and was diverted to Colorado Springs.
That storm intensified, got colder, lost the fireworks, and rained for the next two days straight. I had anticipated rain, but not below freezing temperatures. The clothes I had brought for the memorial Mass were not really weather appropriate. But it was just as well, because all of the indoor venues were too warm anyway.
After Mass we went in a funeral procession to the columbarium where my aunt’s remains were entombed in the niche with her husband and son. She was the very last of my parents’ generation to pass. It is sobering to think I am now a member of my family’s existing senior generation.
I am very glad I made the effort to be present. I was the only Wadleigh (my maiden name) to be present. None of my cousins, my uncle’s other nieces or nephews, were able to travel to Denver. The other family members present were my aunt’s brother and his children, grandchildren and great grandchildren.
My efforts were rewarded in a very special way. I was given a restored photograph of my grandparents’ wedding picture taken in 1904. It is a precious keepsake that I will pass on to my daughter. I brought home some other photo albums in my suitcase, but this picture I carried with me lest my luggage be lost and this picture with it.
I returned from Denver on Thursday afternoon. When I departed there was snow on the ground at DIA which wasn’t there when I arrived. Of course, I didn’t return to the sunny warm weather I left behind, but instead it has been wet and cold since I have been home. But since weather travels from west to east I can’t be held responsible for our current climate in the Bay Area.
Live long and prosper!
I landed in Denver on Tuesday evening, shortly before DIA was closed due to a thunder and lightning storm. Another member of my aunt’s family was arriving later that evening and was diverted to Colorado Springs.
That storm intensified, got colder, lost the fireworks, and rained for the next two days straight. I had anticipated rain, but not below freezing temperatures. The clothes I had brought for the memorial Mass were not really weather appropriate. But it was just as well, because all of the indoor venues were too warm anyway.
After Mass we went in a funeral procession to the columbarium where my aunt’s remains were entombed in the niche with her husband and son. She was the very last of my parents’ generation to pass. It is sobering to think I am now a member of my family’s existing senior generation.
I am very glad I made the effort to be present. I was the only Wadleigh (my maiden name) to be present. None of my cousins, my uncle’s other nieces or nephews, were able to travel to Denver. The other family members present were my aunt’s brother and his children, grandchildren and great grandchildren.
My efforts were rewarded in a very special way. I was given a restored photograph of my grandparents’ wedding picture taken in 1904. It is a precious keepsake that I will pass on to my daughter. I brought home some other photo albums in my suitcase, but this picture I carried with me lest my luggage be lost and this picture with it.
I returned from Denver on Thursday afternoon. When I departed there was snow on the ground at DIA which wasn’t there when I arrived. Of course, I didn’t return to the sunny warm weather I left behind, but instead it has been wet and cold since I have been home. But since weather travels from west to east I can’t be held responsible for our current climate in the Bay Area.
Live long and prosper!
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Any man's death diminishes me
Any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in Mankind John Donne
Don’t misunderstand me. I am happy that the threat represented by Osama Bin Laden has been removed. But I am unable to celebrate his death. How do those citizens, who parade with banners and demonstrate in the streets of New York and D.C. because of his execution, differ from Muslims in the Middle East who did the very same thing on 9-11?
How can we hope that the removal of a terrorist threat will bring peace to our world when we exhibit the same kind of hatred, bigotry, and intolerance that was the excuse for 9-11? Are we making Bin Laden a martyr for the Islamic extremists to emulate? Will they try harder to accomplish his vision - destruction of the western world’s ‘War on Islam’?
I don’t pretend to understand how terrorists justify the murder of non-combatants or why Islamic extremists believe the west is out to destroy their religion and their way of life. But it may just be because out culture has been guilty of exactly that when it comes to other ethnic groups who differ from us.
Examples include the plight of Native Americans at the hands of European immigrants; the efforts of the allied nations to subdue Turkey and partition the country for the enrichment of the member nations; the effort to destroy the Jews by Hitler’s Arian Germany. Yes, I am aware of the support of some Muslims of Germany’s efforts.
If everyone would take just one step back from the brink, stop playing the blame game, and pray for peace to whatever deity they worship, the human race might survive. Does that mean that fear and hatred will ceased to exist? Unfortunately not; there will always be people who are certain that they speak for God – whatever her name may be – but the majority of right thinking human beings hopefully will outnumber the fringe element.
Pray for peace.
Live long and prosper!
Don’t misunderstand me. I am happy that the threat represented by Osama Bin Laden has been removed. But I am unable to celebrate his death. How do those citizens, who parade with banners and demonstrate in the streets of New York and D.C. because of his execution, differ from Muslims in the Middle East who did the very same thing on 9-11?
How can we hope that the removal of a terrorist threat will bring peace to our world when we exhibit the same kind of hatred, bigotry, and intolerance that was the excuse for 9-11? Are we making Bin Laden a martyr for the Islamic extremists to emulate? Will they try harder to accomplish his vision - destruction of the western world’s ‘War on Islam’?
I don’t pretend to understand how terrorists justify the murder of non-combatants or why Islamic extremists believe the west is out to destroy their religion and their way of life. But it may just be because out culture has been guilty of exactly that when it comes to other ethnic groups who differ from us.
Examples include the plight of Native Americans at the hands of European immigrants; the efforts of the allied nations to subdue Turkey and partition the country for the enrichment of the member nations; the effort to destroy the Jews by Hitler’s Arian Germany. Yes, I am aware of the support of some Muslims of Germany’s efforts.
If everyone would take just one step back from the brink, stop playing the blame game, and pray for peace to whatever deity they worship, the human race might survive. Does that mean that fear and hatred will ceased to exist? Unfortunately not; there will always be people who are certain that they speak for God – whatever her name may be – but the majority of right thinking human beings hopefully will outnumber the fringe element.
Pray for peace.
Live long and prosper!
Monday, May 2, 2011
Blue Jays – Nature’s Nags
Spring appears to have found its way to our part of California. The weather is warm and sunny, with the thermometer climbing just a bit more each day. I have turned off the furnace, and I leave the patio door open to enjoy the fresh air. When it gets too warm, I open a window on the north side of the house to create a cross breeze.
My cat, Sir Isaac Newton, commonly referred to as Red, takes advantage of the opportunity to wander in and out of the house as he pleases. His little bit of paradise (our back yard), however, has been invaded by a blue jay, actually two blue jays. But only one is an unconscionable heckler. She (I assume the female of the species) takes great pleasure in squawking harshly every time Red comes into the yard. If given the opportunity she dives on him. I have put his outside water dish under a table so that he can drink without putting one of his nine lives at risk.
But Red is not the only one disturbed by her appearance. I watch and hear the squirrels scolding the jay as her presence threatens their access to our trees. This morning, while Mrs. Jay was heckling Red, Mr. Jay was diving on a squirrel taking shelter on a power pole. The reason I know he is the “mister” is because he stirs himself infrequently. He leaves the bulk of the work to her.
I understand the instinctive behavior of protecting the nest. I have seen the two birds attack a crow that has dared to invade our back yard air space. Now crows really are raiders, and wouldn’t think twice (do crows think?) about destroying a nest and poking holes in the eggs. I have seen them do as much to a dove’s nest. So my suggestion to Mr. and Mrs. Jay is to concentrate their protective instincts against crows and not my poor cat who is too lazy to think about climbing a tree or attacking a nest. Who, when the heckling gets too bothersome, comes into my office and naps in his basket.
Live long and prosper!
My cat, Sir Isaac Newton, commonly referred to as Red, takes advantage of the opportunity to wander in and out of the house as he pleases. His little bit of paradise (our back yard), however, has been invaded by a blue jay, actually two blue jays. But only one is an unconscionable heckler. She (I assume the female of the species) takes great pleasure in squawking harshly every time Red comes into the yard. If given the opportunity she dives on him. I have put his outside water dish under a table so that he can drink without putting one of his nine lives at risk.
But Red is not the only one disturbed by her appearance. I watch and hear the squirrels scolding the jay as her presence threatens their access to our trees. This morning, while Mrs. Jay was heckling Red, Mr. Jay was diving on a squirrel taking shelter on a power pole. The reason I know he is the “mister” is because he stirs himself infrequently. He leaves the bulk of the work to her.
I understand the instinctive behavior of protecting the nest. I have seen the two birds attack a crow that has dared to invade our back yard air space. Now crows really are raiders, and wouldn’t think twice (do crows think?) about destroying a nest and poking holes in the eggs. I have seen them do as much to a dove’s nest. So my suggestion to Mr. and Mrs. Jay is to concentrate their protective instincts against crows and not my poor cat who is too lazy to think about climbing a tree or attacking a nest. Who, when the heckling gets too bothersome, comes into my office and naps in his basket.
Live long and prosper!
Thursday, April 28, 2011
A Worthy Cause
Visit this website today and every day and vote for Cat House on the Kings.
To determine for yourself if this is a worthy cause check out their website http://www.cathouseonthekings.com/
Too Much of a Good Thing
How much salt (sodium chloride NaCl) does the human body require? A generally agreed upon amount required is 1.5g (1500mg). Is the consumption of more than 1.5g unhealthy? It depends upon a person’s physiology. Some individuals can safely consume up to 2.3g (2300mg) daily. So it becomes a matter of choice. But does it really?
Since I only buy 'no salt added' or 'low salt' processed foods I can’t go to my pantry and pull out examples of high sodium processed foods. Go, however, to any restaurant menu on-line, look up the nutrition information and you will see, if you choose to eat out, you have little choice.
A single slice from a 14 inch Meat Lover’s® pizza from Pizza Hut contains between 1180mg and 1210mg of sodium. Who eats only one slice? I have stopped going to Applebee’s even though I like their selections and prices. There are at least three items on their menu that top 5000mg of sodium. The vast majority meets or exceeds the 2300mg maximum sodium content for an entire day, and for someone who needs to maintain 1500mg, forget it. How about fast food from the local burger joint? This may be a safer choice; McDonald’s offers a plain hamburger for 550mg sodium, but watch out for the Angus Bacon and Cheeseburger at 2070mg. Burger King offers the Whopper Jr. without mayonnaise at 440mg sodium. Wendy’s has a Jr. Hamburger with 480mg sodium. At all three locations you must be careful of breakfast offering and salads. Frozen entrées from the three leading manufacturers average between 550mg and 700mg of sodium. Don’t even ask about full meals, some can have sodium content exceeding 1000mg.
So what got me started on this particular tirade? It is not just the health problems associated with excess sodium; I am concerned about my appearance as well. When I look in the mirror on the morning after a nice meal at a nice restaurant I look like a blimp. Water retention causes me to gain weight and look fat. I can always add salt at the table if I choose, so why must chefs and food manufacturers add so much in preparation?
The best way to bring about change is to squeeze the bottom line. If you agree with me, vote with your wallet. Stop buying products where you are paying top dollar for such a cheap ingredient, and one, that in excess, can be harmful to your health.
Live long and prosper!
Since I only buy 'no salt added' or 'low salt' processed foods I can’t go to my pantry and pull out examples of high sodium processed foods. Go, however, to any restaurant menu on-line, look up the nutrition information and you will see, if you choose to eat out, you have little choice.
A single slice from a 14 inch Meat Lover’s® pizza from Pizza Hut contains between 1180mg and 1210mg of sodium. Who eats only one slice? I have stopped going to Applebee’s even though I like their selections and prices. There are at least three items on their menu that top 5000mg of sodium. The vast majority meets or exceeds the 2300mg maximum sodium content for an entire day, and for someone who needs to maintain 1500mg, forget it. How about fast food from the local burger joint? This may be a safer choice; McDonald’s offers a plain hamburger for 550mg sodium, but watch out for the Angus Bacon and Cheeseburger at 2070mg. Burger King offers the Whopper Jr. without mayonnaise at 440mg sodium. Wendy’s has a Jr. Hamburger with 480mg sodium. At all three locations you must be careful of breakfast offering and salads. Frozen entrées from the three leading manufacturers average between 550mg and 700mg of sodium. Don’t even ask about full meals, some can have sodium content exceeding 1000mg.
So what got me started on this particular tirade? It is not just the health problems associated with excess sodium; I am concerned about my appearance as well. When I look in the mirror on the morning after a nice meal at a nice restaurant I look like a blimp. Water retention causes me to gain weight and look fat. I can always add salt at the table if I choose, so why must chefs and food manufacturers add so much in preparation?
The best way to bring about change is to squeeze the bottom line. If you agree with me, vote with your wallet. Stop buying products where you are paying top dollar for such a cheap ingredient, and one, that in excess, can be harmful to your health.
Live long and prosper!
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