I am in no means a consumer of celebrity news, however, one piece of recent news that did catch my eye was the news that Tracy Morgan, of 30 Rock fame (a show I do not watch), recently had a kidney transplant. For many, this hearkened back to April 2009, when Apple founder and CEO Steve Jobs had a liver transplant. In both instances there seems to be two predominant responses to the news. The first response is fairly typical of anyone who has gone through a relatively serious medical treatment, which is well wishes, which I personally think is entirely appropriate. The second response, which I've notice in both the instances of Tracy Morgan and Steve Jobs is usually very cynical and in my opinion very myopic and ignorant. The response is to complain that these two people got special treatment because they are rich. That they jumped ahead of other deserving people on the transplant list. That somehow there was something inherently unfair or underhanded about these particular people receiving their transplants. In fact, I admit that my initial gut reaction to these pieces of news was very similar. After some thought and consideration, however, I have a little bit of different view. I'm still not 100% sure that everything regarding these transplants was "above the board" so to speak, but consider this.
1. The news never mentions how long these guys waited for their transplants, just that they had them. Personally, I have no idea how long either of these people were on the list. In case of Steve Jobs, there had been reports of him being SERIOUSLY sick for years prior to his transplant, he could have been on the list that entire time. In the case of Tracy Morgan, I seem to recall hearing several years ago that he too was sick, so again, who knows how long he was on the list. They both MAY have waited just like everyone else.
2. All cynicism about how the transplant list works, aside, the list is need based, and I find it some what difficult (though not impossible) to believe that these guys got their transplants before others of greater need. In the case of Tracy Morgan, it could have simply been a case of finding a match, which helps A LOT with kidney transplants. So I tend to believe that the didn't somehow cheat the transplant list. See my next point for more about ghis
3. In Steve Jobs' case, he was on multiple lists in multiple states, to better his chances of getting an organ. He was able to do this because, yes, he is rich, and he could afford to travel to all those different places multiple times, and at a moments notice. I don't know a single person on the transplant list, who, if they had the financial wear-with-all, would do the exact same thing. I know I would have (though I was so ill before my transplant that I couldn't leave the ICU). I cannot fault him for doing this. There is nothing, dishonest, mean-spirited, or unfair about it.
4. Lastly, as I have already alluded to, we do not get the whole story from the celebrity news, so really, we don't know the true circumstances of the transplant and are not really in a place to judge its appropriateness.
I know the situation can seem unfair, especially to those people who are on the transplant list waiting, but I personally can't fault either of men for receiving their gift of life.
One note, this is certainly only my perspective, and should taken with a grain of salt, especially since, even though I have had a heart transplant, I have essentially zero experience with the transplant list. When I was placed on the list, on September 23, 2008, I was placed at status 1A, greatest need, because of this, and my chances of success with a transplant, I was placed at the top of the list for my blood type in my area. Furthermore, I live in Los Angeles, CA, where, unfortunately, many people lose their lives everyday from all manner of things. Because of these factors, I was only on the list for 8 hours, as my heart was found the very same day. Keep that in mind when reading this note.
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Thursday, December 2, 2010
The Weight
Everyone one of us has heard the phrase "I feel like a great weight has been lifted from my shoulders". For a lot of people, most I bet, I think this is a purely metaphorical thought. For those that it is literal, I imagine a person hefting off a large backpack after a long hike in the wilderness. I always knew what a person meant by the phrase and even felt it myself, after a school paper was submitted, a large project at work was completed, when some great psychological or emotional weight is removed.
A few weeks ago, I felt something that I had not felt before, something I never really thought would happen. A few weeks ago, as the psychological and emotional worries and troubles that I have allowed to continued to allow to build upon me, I felt a physical weight lower itself onto my shoulders. I don't know how to describe it, other than like a sandbag, wrapped from shoulder to shoulder around my neck like a yoke. Honestly, to me, I swear this thing has real weight. Some days the weight feels so heavy that it slows me down, physically - my walking even slows. Without going to into details, I can even pinpoint the exact moment I felt it. Some days it's not so bad, others I can barely get out of bed. Don't get me wrong, I know it's all related to my depression., and I know it's some sort of psychosomatic reaction to all the stress I'm feeling these day. Still, this strong of a physical reaction to all this has really surprised me.
Sometimes I feel very lost with the direction of my life. It's similar with this weight as well. I think I know vaguely what I need to do to lift it, but at the same time I just can't seem to see how that would work. I don't mean, that I don't believe that I can't get rid of it, more that I don't understand to process, which just makes me feel even more lost.
A few weeks ago, I felt something that I had not felt before, something I never really thought would happen. A few weeks ago, as the psychological and emotional worries and troubles that I have allowed to continued to allow to build upon me, I felt a physical weight lower itself onto my shoulders. I don't know how to describe it, other than like a sandbag, wrapped from shoulder to shoulder around my neck like a yoke. Honestly, to me, I swear this thing has real weight. Some days the weight feels so heavy that it slows me down, physically - my walking even slows. Without going to into details, I can even pinpoint the exact moment I felt it. Some days it's not so bad, others I can barely get out of bed. Don't get me wrong, I know it's all related to my depression., and I know it's some sort of psychosomatic reaction to all the stress I'm feeling these day. Still, this strong of a physical reaction to all this has really surprised me.
Sometimes I feel very lost with the direction of my life. It's similar with this weight as well. I think I know vaguely what I need to do to lift it, but at the same time I just can't seem to see how that would work. I don't mean, that I don't believe that I can't get rid of it, more that I don't understand to process, which just makes me feel even more lost.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
At least there is no saw this time.
Well, it's all set, on December 8th, I get cut again for my cholesystectomy - surgical removal of the gall bladder. I've been having pain in the upper right quadrant of my abdomen since mid-July. In July I was having what I called "attacks", pain so severe that I was doubled over in pain, it was worse than anything I remember from my time in the hospital for my transplant. Gall stones. That was the diagnosis. Each time I passed one, it was an attack. The only thing to help - two vicodin (or the duladid they gave me at the hospital). So by the beginning of August I was no longer having "attacks", instead it was constant low grade pain, as it has been for the past few months. The foregut surgeon and my transplant doctor both agreed that the gall bladder needed come out. The general view is that once you have gall bladder issues you will always have gall gladder issues. Additionally, because of my compromised immune system there is a great danger if my gall bladder gets blocked and infected, as my body can't handle that sort of infection. So out it comes. Unfortunately, it's not that simple. I'm still dealing with ITP and my blood platelets have been bouncing all over the place from 14k to 82k to 46k to ?. We went back and forth about whether I needed a splenectomy as well (the last ditch treatment for ITP) but after an incredibly painful bone marrow biopsy, we backed off of that. Cholesystectomy only. Uggh. But I still have to deal with the ITP. It's not such a good idea to go get surgery (even laproscopic) when your blood doesn't clot so well. Luckily I have B+ blood which make it possible to use the WinRho treatment for my pre-surgery treatment. Which is good, since the only pre-surgery treatment for ITP, IVIG, gave me chemical meningitis last time.
As a result of all of that silliness, I have 4 Dr. appointments before I go for the surgery. The first two weeks of December are going to be busy. Two pre-op appointments, 2 blood tests, and 1 surgery. Additionally, for most people, gall bladder surgery is an out-patient procedure, I will be staying in the hospital overnight. Good thing I have no sick time and no vacation left.
Really, I guess the question other people might ask me about this is "How are you feeling about all this?". Really, I'm not sure. In some respects, I think I'm numb to it all. After all I have been through, this just seems like par for the course. I'm used to it, and to some degree, I'm starting to expect it. Expect the problems. Perhaps as the surgery comes closer I will start to get nervous, but I really don't know. At least this time, a saw won't be part of the surgical equipment.
As a result of all of that silliness, I have 4 Dr. appointments before I go for the surgery. The first two weeks of December are going to be busy. Two pre-op appointments, 2 blood tests, and 1 surgery. Additionally, for most people, gall bladder surgery is an out-patient procedure, I will be staying in the hospital overnight. Good thing I have no sick time and no vacation left.
Really, I guess the question other people might ask me about this is "How are you feeling about all this?". Really, I'm not sure. In some respects, I think I'm numb to it all. After all I have been through, this just seems like par for the course. I'm used to it, and to some degree, I'm starting to expect it. Expect the problems. Perhaps as the surgery comes closer I will start to get nervous, but I really don't know. At least this time, a saw won't be part of the surgical equipment.
Friday, September 24, 2010
The 2 year list
Today, 2 years ago, September 24, 2010, I had my heart transplant after waiting only a few hours on the waiting list. Today, is my day for reflecting on my ongoing journey. A to give thanks to my donor and my donor's family. This weekend I'm going rock climbing, which I have been doing since about 3 months ago my transplant. I'm still struggling to get my fitness back.
Anyway, at this time I like to do a kind of checklist or inventory of the issue I'm dealing with thus far and how it going.
1. BK Virus - My virus count are down and I've been Asymptomatic since Jan 2009, so I can't really complain about that.
2. ITP - As of the beginning of August my platelets were 80km as high as they had been in a year, though ~120k is considered safe and 300k is considered normal. Let hope for continued unexplained improvement
3. Gallstones - likely I have passed all of the large one (excruciating pain) though I still get twinges of pain here and there. It's coming out. Luckily it's laproscopic surgery and they will be able to take it out before the end of the year (for my insurance).
5. Barrett's Disease - For those of you who don't know, I now have Barrett's disease which is ..I don't know what to call it, abnormal changed cells in the esophagus. They are considered pre-cancerous and are typically caused by chronic acid reflux syndrome. I don't have acid reflux so it goes down as yet another unexplained issue. Sometimes I think someone is out to get me, but they aren't having much luck, I'm too strong. Anyway, the cells are confined to a very small area and are non-dysplastic, meaning they aren't really mutated, so at this point they are just going to monitor them.
5. Depression- well, I don't know what to say about this. It's still being managed with medications, my dose hasn't changed. I'm feeling ok...better, but I would say it's still tentative. There isn't really a plan to get off the medication right now. I'm just moving forward, and keepin tryin to get better, more optimistic, more motivated.
Well, that's pretty much it. No rejection so far, my BP is well controlled and I haven had a major medication or dosage change in at least a year. Everything with my heart is great, though sometime I kinda feel like the rest of me is falling apart.
Anyway, at this time I like to do a kind of checklist or inventory of the issue I'm dealing with thus far and how it going.
1. BK Virus - My virus count are down and I've been Asymptomatic since Jan 2009, so I can't really complain about that.
2. ITP - As of the beginning of August my platelets were 80km as high as they had been in a year, though ~120k is considered safe and 300k is considered normal. Let hope for continued unexplained improvement
3. Gallstones - likely I have passed all of the large one (excruciating pain) though I still get twinges of pain here and there. It's coming out. Luckily it's laproscopic surgery and they will be able to take it out before the end of the year (for my insurance).
5. Barrett's Disease - For those of you who don't know, I now have Barrett's disease which is ..I don't know what to call it, abnormal changed cells in the esophagus. They are considered pre-cancerous and are typically caused by chronic acid reflux syndrome. I don't have acid reflux so it goes down as yet another unexplained issue. Sometimes I think someone is out to get me, but they aren't having much luck, I'm too strong. Anyway, the cells are confined to a very small area and are non-dysplastic, meaning they aren't really mutated, so at this point they are just going to monitor them.
5. Depression- well, I don't know what to say about this. It's still being managed with medications, my dose hasn't changed. I'm feeling ok...better, but I would say it's still tentative. There isn't really a plan to get off the medication right now. I'm just moving forward, and keepin tryin to get better, more optimistic, more motivated.
Well, that's pretty much it. No rejection so far, my BP is well controlled and I haven had a major medication or dosage change in at least a year. Everything with my heart is great, though sometime I kinda feel like the rest of me is falling apart.
Friday, June 18, 2010
The Hardest Part
Probably the most often question asked of me is some variation of "How did this happen?" or "Why did you need a heart transplant?” Sadly the only answer I can really give is a shrug and a weak smile. The truth is I neither know why nor understand why this happened. Not long after I got out of the hospital asked my doctor about the pathology of my old heart. The answer he gave me was pretty vague and wishy-washy even for medical speak. The report described how disease ridden my heart was, how sick it was, how it showed signs of other heart attacks, but really came to no conclusions or how it got this way. My doctor grumbled something about genetics causing premature coronary disease, but really, I have no family history of such premature coronary disease, no risk factors at all. 'Bad luck', people say.
Honestly, I guess there is some comfort in knowing that there isn't really a reason for what happened to me, that there was nothing I could have done. But still, sometimes it feels like living under the sword of Damocles, not knowing what (almost) killed me. It is not an oppressive fear that hangs on me, but it is there. It is incredibly difficult not knowing, not understanding how I came to have such a ridiculous string of health challenges (heart attack, pneumonia, strokes, infections, ITP). It is a question that haunts me, the question that I can't escape. It is a question that is extraordinarily frustrating. Not knowing why this has happened to me, and not knowing why I am to I face these challenges. Among all my current challenges, the depression, the meds, the ITP, not knowing is the hardest part.
Honestly, I guess there is some comfort in knowing that there isn't really a reason for what happened to me, that there was nothing I could have done. But still, sometimes it feels like living under the sword of Damocles, not knowing what (almost) killed me. It is not an oppressive fear that hangs on me, but it is there. It is incredibly difficult not knowing, not understanding how I came to have such a ridiculous string of health challenges (heart attack, pneumonia, strokes, infections, ITP). It is a question that haunts me, the question that I can't escape. It is a question that is extraordinarily frustrating. Not knowing why this has happened to me, and not knowing why I am to I face these challenges. Among all my current challenges, the depression, the meds, the ITP, not knowing is the hardest part.
Friday, April 30, 2010
Tomorrow is the day
Tomorrow is the day. I will be running in the Donate Life 5k in Fullerton, CA to support organ donation awareness. Thanks to everyone who donated, I 've raised $1300 dollars so far. If you haven't donated, you can do so at
http://www.active.com/donate/DonateLife2010/MStrane1
http://www.active.com/donate/DonateLife2010/MStrane1
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
DonateLife Run/Walk 5k
This is the second year that I'm going to participate in the Donate Life 5k. Last year I walked the 5K with a wonderful group of friends. This year I plan to earnestly run the 5k and have already begun training to do so. I have some distance to go to get to running an entire 5K, however the course is flat and I'm looking forward to the challenge.
I would like to take this opportunity to thank everyone who donated last year. Thanks to your generosity I was able to raise nearly $3,000 and ended up being the #2 fundraiser of all individuals.
You can sponsor me here.
http://www.active.com/donate/DonateLife2010/MStrane1
There is a severe dearth of organ donors right now, so any bit you can give would be greatly appreciated. Also, please remember to register to be an organ donor. You can do that here:
http://www.donatelifecalifornia.org/
or here:
http://organdonor.gov/
If you do sign up, please remember to tell your loved ones of your wishes
I would like to take this opportunity to thank everyone who donated last year. Thanks to your generosity I was able to raise nearly $3,000 and ended up being the #2 fundraiser of all individuals.
You can sponsor me here.
http://www.active.com/donate/DonateLife2010/MStrane1
There is a severe dearth of organ donors right now, so any bit you can give would be greatly appreciated. Also, please remember to register to be an organ donor. You can do that here:
http://www.donatelifecalifornia.org/
or here:
http://organdonor.gov/
If you do sign up, please remember to tell your loved ones of your wishes
Monday, March 29, 2010
Strength and Luck
A few weeks ago I had a chat with an old friend. In fact I've known this person for about 32 years. We were never super close friends but we drifted in and out of acquaintance because of our history and the fact that her brother was an incredibly close friend for many years.
She was very aware of my heart attack and subsequent heart transplant but she didn't know that details. Providing that I'm terribly comfortable talking about my experience with people I know, she asked questions and I answered them honestly. It'd been a while since I'd gotten into this much detail about the nitty-gritty of what I went through, and I've found that it helps me to talk about it in detail every once in a while. As I watched her incredulity at all that I had gone through, physically and mentally, it finally dawned on me. It finally sunk in. Something that people, Wendy in particular, have been telling me for long time that I don' think I ever truly accepted until that moment.
I am strong.
I finally accepted, realized, the incredible strength it took for me to get through and survive the physical challenges I faced. I survived a massive heart attack. I survived strokes, and infections, pneumonia, loss of circulation, having my chest open for 11 days, and three major three surgeries. I survived all of that and I am walking and talking today. I am strong. More over, while I was in a coma, I battled nightmares of torture, kidnapping, drugging, terrorism, and many other terrifying circumstances, and through every nightmare, I fought. I fought to stay alive, I fought to escape, I fought to get home, I fought to save my self and many of my loved ones, through fear and pain and never ending dark I fought, and I can honestly say that I never gave up. I am strong. In fact, I have no doubt that had I ever given up, in those dark places, I would not be here typing this today.
I am strong.
To this day, I have people tell that I am lucky. To be honest, I chaff at this, probably more than anything anyone tells me about my experience. True, at times I do not feel very lucky for what happened to me. Even now, how I came to go through this seems extraordinarily unlucky. But I think I know what people mean when they tell me I'm lucky, and that is really what bothers me. It wasn't luck that got me through. It wasn't luck that I survived. It was passionate doctors and nurses who never gave up on me. It was a mother and girlfriend who never left my side. It was the dozens of cards and messages I received from friends and family, old and new. It was because of these that I survived It was because I am strong, and calling it lucky not only does a disservice to me, but all of the people who worked and prayed to help me live. It was not luck. I am strong
It is foolish of me to deny luck in this though. I am lucky that I live during the time that I do, when medicine can bring me back from death. I am lucky that lived where I did so that I would end up with the nurses and doctors that took care of me. Some may think that me receiving my new heart merely 8 hours after I was placed on the transplant list is luck, but I say, no, it was love. Love of a grieving family who had it in their heart to donate their loved ones organs so that others may live, in their darkest time.
It is taking me time to process this experience that I have been through, and am going through. It is still one I'm going through, and I have far to go, but I can now tell you this:
I am strong.
She was very aware of my heart attack and subsequent heart transplant but she didn't know that details. Providing that I'm terribly comfortable talking about my experience with people I know, she asked questions and I answered them honestly. It'd been a while since I'd gotten into this much detail about the nitty-gritty of what I went through, and I've found that it helps me to talk about it in detail every once in a while. As I watched her incredulity at all that I had gone through, physically and mentally, it finally dawned on me. It finally sunk in. Something that people, Wendy in particular, have been telling me for long time that I don' think I ever truly accepted until that moment.
I am strong.
I finally accepted, realized, the incredible strength it took for me to get through and survive the physical challenges I faced. I survived a massive heart attack. I survived strokes, and infections, pneumonia, loss of circulation, having my chest open for 11 days, and three major three surgeries. I survived all of that and I am walking and talking today. I am strong. More over, while I was in a coma, I battled nightmares of torture, kidnapping, drugging, terrorism, and many other terrifying circumstances, and through every nightmare, I fought. I fought to stay alive, I fought to escape, I fought to get home, I fought to save my self and many of my loved ones, through fear and pain and never ending dark I fought, and I can honestly say that I never gave up. I am strong. In fact, I have no doubt that had I ever given up, in those dark places, I would not be here typing this today.
I am strong.
To this day, I have people tell that I am lucky. To be honest, I chaff at this, probably more than anything anyone tells me about my experience. True, at times I do not feel very lucky for what happened to me. Even now, how I came to go through this seems extraordinarily unlucky. But I think I know what people mean when they tell me I'm lucky, and that is really what bothers me. It wasn't luck that got me through. It wasn't luck that I survived. It was passionate doctors and nurses who never gave up on me. It was a mother and girlfriend who never left my side. It was the dozens of cards and messages I received from friends and family, old and new. It was because of these that I survived It was because I am strong, and calling it lucky not only does a disservice to me, but all of the people who worked and prayed to help me live. It was not luck. I am strong
It is foolish of me to deny luck in this though. I am lucky that I live during the time that I do, when medicine can bring me back from death. I am lucky that lived where I did so that I would end up with the nurses and doctors that took care of me. Some may think that me receiving my new heart merely 8 hours after I was placed on the transplant list is luck, but I say, no, it was love. Love of a grieving family who had it in their heart to donate their loved ones organs so that others may live, in their darkest time.
It is taking me time to process this experience that I have been through, and am going through. It is still one I'm going through, and I have far to go, but I can now tell you this:
I am strong.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
It's the little things, ain't it?
I do think that at some point I should stop looking back, however, this morning, I started thinking about all the little things. What little things am I referring to? When someone has a long hospital stay and devastating health crisis like I had, the focus is on the major health issues and not on all the little annoyances that go along with a long hospital stay and being on high doses of dozens of medicines, things that I may not have mentioned previously.
Being in a coma, obviously, much of your normal hygiene routine falls by the wayside, and for various reasons, does not get taken care of. When I was very sick, my heart had trouble keeping my blood pressure high enough, to help it, I was on blood thinners. Because of that, it was important that I did not get bleeds. This meant they couldn't brush my teeth properly. Instead of a normal tooth brush, it was an essentially a piece of foam on a plastic stick. I remember this because they were still using these "brushes" after I woke up. The problem with these things is that they don't really clean your teeth of plaque and tartar, so when I woke up my teeth were encased in plaque and tartar. Maybe not that big of a deal, but all the gaps between my teeth had filled in - so much so that my teeth actually kind of hurt - it was uncomfortable. So uncomfortable in fact that I used to fantasized, in my delirium, about them having a dentist come in and clean my teeth.
After my transplant, I finally convinced my mother to bring in the sonic toothbrush and after a couple of days of using that I was able to free my teeth from their tartar imprisonment.
In addition, to not being able to properly brush my teeth, they also refused to properly cut my toe nails, for fear of cutting the cuticle. This wouldn't be such a big deal, except for the fact that I have a couple of minor hangnails that need attention. The nurses at the hospital had no idea how to deal with them, and thus refused to cut my nails, nor would the let me (not that I could, but I'll get to that later). I wasn't able to cut my nails until I left the hospital, and by that time my nail, while not that long, again my mother had actually managed to trim them for me a bit, had reached a thickness that I didn't think was possible for nails- I would say 1mm, but it sounds like an exaggeration. I'm not sure, but I do know that I had to cut my nails with big scissors because nail clippers wouldn't cut it, literally. Anyway, after a month or so trimming my toe nails were back to "normal". I suspect that the medications change the biology of my body in some way and caused my nails to grow in this weird way.
This brings me to my hair. When I left the hospital, I noticed that my hair had taken on a straw like quality that no amount of washing would relieve. Only the strongest of conditioners would seem to soften it up for a bit. Again, I suspect it's from the medications. Eventually my hair went back to normal (albeit with a few more gray hairs), but really don't think it really recovered until it had all grown out.
Speaking of hair, one thing that I did not like about being in the hospital, aside from having to go to the bathroom in a bed pan and be helped by someone, was the sponge baths. In addition, to it being humiliating to have some one else, including men, clean you with a sponge, it was cold. Sure they would use warm water, but you are still open to the air, the only good things about it was 1)being clean afterward, 2)the pre-warmed blankets they would put on you afterward. One good thing about being in the hospital though was how they cleaned my hair (on occasion, since they only did this a couple times). One way to clean your hair was to put this shower cap sort of thing on your head, which fit pretty tight. They (the nurse) would break something in the cap and it would be filled with shampoo and warm water. It felt so good. I loved it, though some crazy nurse told me that it would make me lose my hair - not a very nice thing to say to a psychotic hospital patient.
Other things I think people don't think about for those in a coma. You lose your voice from having a tube down it for weeks. You lose you appetite because they kept your stomach full through a feeding tube. Your hearing becomes very sensitive...because I don't why, but to this day I have ringing in my rings whenever I hear a cracking noise, like for example, every time I hear a carabineer shut closed.
You get amazing knots in your back from lying in med some much- when I got out the hospital I had walnut-sized knots in my back -it was impressive.
Still, all of these were minor annoyances, yet somehow, I remember them almost as vividly as the actual horrible things that happened to me.
Being in a coma, obviously, much of your normal hygiene routine falls by the wayside, and for various reasons, does not get taken care of. When I was very sick, my heart had trouble keeping my blood pressure high enough, to help it, I was on blood thinners. Because of that, it was important that I did not get bleeds. This meant they couldn't brush my teeth properly. Instead of a normal tooth brush, it was an essentially a piece of foam on a plastic stick. I remember this because they were still using these "brushes" after I woke up. The problem with these things is that they don't really clean your teeth of plaque and tartar, so when I woke up my teeth were encased in plaque and tartar. Maybe not that big of a deal, but all the gaps between my teeth had filled in - so much so that my teeth actually kind of hurt - it was uncomfortable. So uncomfortable in fact that I used to fantasized, in my delirium, about them having a dentist come in and clean my teeth.
After my transplant, I finally convinced my mother to bring in the sonic toothbrush and after a couple of days of using that I was able to free my teeth from their tartar imprisonment.
In addition, to not being able to properly brush my teeth, they also refused to properly cut my toe nails, for fear of cutting the cuticle. This wouldn't be such a big deal, except for the fact that I have a couple of minor hangnails that need attention. The nurses at the hospital had no idea how to deal with them, and thus refused to cut my nails, nor would the let me (not that I could, but I'll get to that later). I wasn't able to cut my nails until I left the hospital, and by that time my nail, while not that long, again my mother had actually managed to trim them for me a bit, had reached a thickness that I didn't think was possible for nails- I would say 1mm, but it sounds like an exaggeration. I'm not sure, but I do know that I had to cut my nails with big scissors because nail clippers wouldn't cut it, literally. Anyway, after a month or so trimming my toe nails were back to "normal". I suspect that the medications change the biology of my body in some way and caused my nails to grow in this weird way.
This brings me to my hair. When I left the hospital, I noticed that my hair had taken on a straw like quality that no amount of washing would relieve. Only the strongest of conditioners would seem to soften it up for a bit. Again, I suspect it's from the medications. Eventually my hair went back to normal (albeit with a few more gray hairs), but really don't think it really recovered until it had all grown out.
Speaking of hair, one thing that I did not like about being in the hospital, aside from having to go to the bathroom in a bed pan and be helped by someone, was the sponge baths. In addition, to it being humiliating to have some one else, including men, clean you with a sponge, it was cold. Sure they would use warm water, but you are still open to the air, the only good things about it was 1)being clean afterward, 2)the pre-warmed blankets they would put on you afterward. One good thing about being in the hospital though was how they cleaned my hair (on occasion, since they only did this a couple times). One way to clean your hair was to put this shower cap sort of thing on your head, which fit pretty tight. They (the nurse) would break something in the cap and it would be filled with shampoo and warm water. It felt so good. I loved it, though some crazy nurse told me that it would make me lose my hair - not a very nice thing to say to a psychotic hospital patient.
Other things I think people don't think about for those in a coma. You lose your voice from having a tube down it for weeks. You lose you appetite because they kept your stomach full through a feeding tube. Your hearing becomes very sensitive...because I don't why, but to this day I have ringing in my rings whenever I hear a cracking noise, like for example, every time I hear a carabineer shut closed.
You get amazing knots in your back from lying in med some much- when I got out the hospital I had walnut-sized knots in my back -it was impressive.
Still, all of these were minor annoyances, yet somehow, I remember them almost as vividly as the actual horrible things that happened to me.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
all I wanted was a Pepsi
"all I wanted was a Pepsi, just one Pepsi, and she wouldn't give to me..."
- Suicidal Tendencies, "Institutionalized" (1983)
2009 has come to a close and I find myself in much that same position I was in a year ago. I risk this becoming a whine-fest, but my life is what it is, and I've been pretty honest so far, so I see no reason to change at this point. The year ended with a good trip back east to visit family, it was somewhat crazy, driving (well, riding for me) back and forth from
Here it is almost the end of January and I have yet, to review 2009 or look much forward to 2010. I guess I’ll start with my goals for 2009. I know I went through this back in March, but I think it bears going through again.
1. Touch real rock by March - I actually already did this on Dec. 27th - I climbed a 5.7 and 5.8 at
2. Run a 5k (specifically the Donate Life Run/Walk on April 25th. Want to sponsor me? http://www.donatelifeoc.org/ - I walked the 5k this tear, but it is the end of January and I am going to start training to RUN it this year, again, I would love it if you would sponsor me - http://www.donatelifeoc.org/, though I have not yet registered
3. Finally, finally finish publishing my work on the Lenwood fault. Ummm, Keeping up with my regular job has been enough.
4. On July 30th, 1 year from my heart attack, I want to ride the Chumash Trail, the ride I did that same evening. http://tinyurl.com/8hgk4f - I did this with the Pasadena Mountain Bike Club, I did not make it to the top, but I still had fun.
5. With much luck, stabilize my meds enough by May so that I can go to
6. Not miss phoning or sending a card for one single relative or friend’s birthday. - I tried, but I did not do so well with this :-(
7. Do everything I can to take care of my new heart. - I did well with this until November when feeling not so good from my ITP treatments lead me to not do so well with my diet, between the steroids and my diet I've put on some weight. I'm feeling better now, and exercising more than I have in about 5 months.
8. Personally thank, as many of the people who phoned, emailed, wrote on my care page or visited me in the hospital as possible. - I created a personalized card, and was able to thank everyone at the hospital.
I would love to say that I'm doing better than the last entry and, honestly I am, at least than I was doing several months ago. I'm still battling ITP, I'm trying to be optimistic about the whole thing - my platelets have stabilized, though at a level that is not really satisfactory (40k at last check). The BK virus has been cleared from my blood but is being stubborn in getting out of my bladder, luckily I'm still asymptomatic. I'm feeling well enough to get back to exercising again, unfortunately to some degree I feel like I'm back to where I was at last January, basically at zero. Honestly, I'm not that out of shape, but certainly worse than I was in August, when I could actually see a glimmer of normalcy.
I know that recently I mentioned that I'd begun taking Lexapro to deal with some depression, and honestly, it's worsened. I'm not entirely sure why, though I guess that is the nature of depression. Some of it may be some difficulty at work, some of it may be due to my lack of activity, not being able to bike or climb recently, some of it may be unresolved issues from the transplant, and some of it may just be. I honestly don't know. I'm fighting it I guess, but I'm not sure I really know what that means. I understand, those who think I should just snap out of it, and be happy that I'm alive, like I said, I don't know why I can't. But hey, at this point I'm still trying, I get up everyday and go work, I try, I take care of dogs, I try to get exercise when I can, I try. I sometimes do feel like I should just run away from it all.
Anyway, it’s another year and I can't believe it's been so long since I left the hospital. My doctors appointment ARE getting less and less, and despite everything, I am expecting a good 2010 - and why not, it is the year of the Tiger (starting Feb 15).
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