I Feel Normal

My view during the climb for altitude in the King Air "ambulance"

Welp, I've been in the hospital again. I still had a low red blood cell count, so I was anemic as hell, and my INR was about right, but it had been a lot higher. INR is International Normalized Ratio, and it gives a scale to the degree your blood is thinned. Normal is high ones or low twos, thin enough to prevent blood clots is normally around three. All the blood thinners out there will turn your innards to liquid if you take too much - warfarin has the slang name of "rat poison" for a reason. That is exactly what it is - rats and mice eat that stuff and they die horrible painful deaths when their guts turn to water. Oh damn. Cry me a river.

So anyhow, I had gone in for a doctor's appointment, and she decided I needed to be hospitalized. I started out in a regular room, but when I started eliminating fresh blood from the ol' starfish during a cleanout to prepare for a scoping, they moved me to intensive care. I'd already had a severe case of diarrhea before I ever got there, so my unmentionable body part was mighty tender. Still is - haven't quite healed up yet.

Scoping didn't really find anything, but I hadn't really started crapping pure blood just yet, either. They thought I had some scabs in my stomach and put a vacuum line down my nose. They were getting some blood up from my tummy, so I had apparently been doing some bleeding there. They more or less threw up their hands and decided there wasn't much they were getting done, so they decided to ship me to Wichita to Via Christy St. Josephs, where I was put in an intensive care room.

They pulled my tube tout suite - they said suction is the last thing you want to do - you don't want to suck up a scab and start more bleeding. I had not been allowed any food or water for several days by then, and I was about to go nuts. When they finally allowed me to drink, I about foundered on icewater - Sis was there and she probably got tired fetching refills for me all the time. I couldn't help it - it seemed nothing tasted better in my life than that cold water and I'd never get my fill.

What happened was that they weren't giving me my diuretics and I gained about twenty pounds of water weight while imprisoned. Since they are more or less set up to keep you in bed and not moving around in those wards, they have no real bathrooms for the patients. It's pee and crap in bedpans, urinals and commodes. The damn commode had a hole that was not elongated enough, so that I'd pee on the damn floor when I had to do my bidness. They finally decided that I had been bleeding in my colon, that it had stopped, and they moved me to a regular room, and later that afternoon (last Saturday) they cut me loose.

I got kinda crabby on Facebook because for about the fifteenth time someone asked me how I felt. I answered "Normal." That was not good enough for her - she kept hounding me for a more detailed answer. I was tired and cranky, and there were several reasons. One - I'd already answered that question about ten times too many, and by then I had the idea that people would rather just ask me and bother me and push my privacy hotbutton than look at all the other times I had answered that question. So I asked her what sort of right she had to ask, and what sort of answer did she want? Did she want me to blow smoke up her a$$ telling her how good I felt, or would she really like to hear the real nitty gritty (cue the highly irritated starfish, among other things. She let it go, and another of my friends called me "Mr. Grumpy."

Yep, I was that.

But let's look at what I mean by normal. Right now I feel about 25%. When I got out of the hospital, I could barely walk, I could not feel Mr. Winky and the boys because I had sat at the edge of the air mattresses and a really crappy chair for too long and had my nerves pinched. I swear, I put three pillows down on that chair and it still managed to kill off the family jewels. I'd gained about twenty pounds, so my feet were so swollen putting socks and shoes on was quite a chore. The skin on my shins was blistering and opening up to drain liquid. So, I figure I felt somewhere between 15 or 20% when I got out. Sunday I started recovering quite well and was able to walk around the house without losing my balance or being unable to get very far. By Monday, I'd lost a few pounds and I had about as much stamina as I've had for months. Not enough to go without riding the fat man cart at Wally World, but enough to load myself into my pickup, drive somewhere, and walk into the store without too much drama. Normal, in other words. Had I said I felt fine, I'd be lying. With my way of thinking about it - I'd have to be about 60% to feel "fine."

I figure that the high point in my life as far as physical condition was when I was in my early to mid twenties. I'd been working a very physical job at a warehouse and had lost over a hundred pounds working there. I was pretty much full of  piss and vinegar, and I'd say I felt about 95%. Now, complications from diabetes have brought that score down and I'll never get that good. I have no feeling in my feet, so balance is an issue. When the pain from diabetic neuropathy kicks in, that knocks the score down quite a bit as well.  Being morbidly obese knocks that score down as well. I think that if I do manage to drop a bunch of weight and get into better shape with far better stamina - I hope to be above 65% - maybe up to 70%. I have to believe my efforts just might have a payoff or I couldn't go on.

But now, anemic and with no wind at all, and carrying all this weight has really dropped that score. Before my current weight ballooned up so badly, I weighed about 350 - and I was carrying enough water even back then to make my shins weep like they do now, so as long as I can keep shedding water, maybe I'm in business.

I'd sure like to say "I feel fine" and be telling the truth.

It's A Hell Of A Life If You Don't Weaken*

Sorry I haven't posted in a while, but let me explain a few things and maybe y'all will bear with me.

When I fell and was hospitalized (trip #3 of four), I not only stretched things in my feet too far, I also killed off most of my nerve endings. So now, most of the top of my left foot, and most of my right foot are numb. However, I am susceptible to diabetic nerve pain - where those dead ends seemingly fire randomly and with great intensity - they're like being stabbed with long, very sharp needles. Sometimes I can "feel" the ring on top of my left foot where it was infected.

So my doctor prescribed gabapentin, which is indicated for this very situation. It's not really a pain pill, but it's close. One of the side effects seem to be to have a rubbery face, and the need to sleep. Even now, with a full belly from supper, I'm fighting it big time.

But it has been less than effective at times. Seems I've got a bit of RLS going on as well. Sometimes I get major needle pricks in fully functional nerves - like the ones in my nads. The epitome of uncomfortableness. So I'm on Lyrica as well now. And I get even more sleepy. And for the times nothing is working, I have a scrip for generic Percocet.

Okay, now we have a perpetually sleepy Jeffro. But that ain't all. My diuretics are timed as far as when I take them for maximum effectiveness. I take one, then within a half hour or so, I take the next one, then I take Klor-Con so it can hit when I need it the most. So when everything is working, I'm fighting a full bladder every half hour to maybe two hours max - but rarely. Should I decide not to take the diuretics until later in the day so I can be less bothered while getting in a doctor's appointment, shopping at Wally World and so on. This generally means less time peeing, so that means more water retained and less weight dropped in the day. So lately I've been trying to time my trips to Dodge later in my peeing cycle.

I've also taken to riding the fat man buggies at Wally World. I've no choice - I cannot walk that far, period. I also have a handicapped parking permit for my ride as well.

Speaking of weight loss - I broke the 400#  barrier earlier. This morning I was 393 something. Considering how much tea I've had today, I would not be surprised if I lose ground tomorrow morning.

Oh, and that liquid restriction I'm on? Turns out I need to drink more fluids. Oh, damn.

At the moment, my INR is too high and I'm off the rat poison until it drops. I'm still anemic as hell.

I've also got that hybrid elliptical up and running - I just need to feel stout enough to use the damn thing. I ran it for five minutes the other day and it liked to kill me off.

Heh. I just had to clean up a super long string of the letter "k" because I fell asleep for a moment and was apparently gonna use it or something. This is about the third or fourth time I've had to clean up some sleepy typing while trying to finish the post.

So that is my life. Sleepy all the time because I cannot stay asleep - I get it in discreet intervals where I wake up with perhaps the keyboard still depressed and the sudden and immediate urge to get somewhere, anywhere to relieve my over full bladder. It's race time then, baybee. I'm also ever so gradually losing that water weight so perhaps I'll be ready and in shape enough for the heart surgeon to fix my leaky heart valve.

So, my days and nights and weeks all tend to run together. Jed, I'm sorry I haven't finished the email I had written for ya - it just sorta got lost in the "routine," as it were. Jess, I hope this helps out some. I'm not doing the best I can, but it is a fight.

*One of the favorite sayings of an old gentleman I worked for in wheat harvest so many years ago.

There Are Days

Then there are days.

I probably should have my butt kicked for not posting any sort of update, but there really hasn't been much to talk about unless I whine. Mostly I struggle to lose several pounds, then the diuretics desert me and I gain it all back. Up and down, back and forth. Just lately, I lost two pounds per day for four days, then gained back four yesterday. I could tell it was gonna happen because my quantity and frequency of urination was not nearly enough. Today, things started out good, but kinda petered out, as it were. I still have to take the other half of my meds for the day, so there is hope that this day might be good or at least break even, but I won't know until I take my daily morning weight.

I have not been doing much in the way of exercising, either. As unpredictable as my legs are as far as just losing feeling and dumping me - I just do not feel comfortable outside walking around away from handholds and chairs to sit in to recover. I've already had one trip to the hospital when I trusted my legs too far, I don't care to repeat that. Next time I might actually break bones and the chance of a severe infection scares me as well. Don't wanna lose a leg because I figured I could make it.

I don't even try at Wally World anymore - I just grab one of the fat bastard lazy riding carts to shop. I can lean on a shopping cart and shop for a while, but I can't take the long distances in a SuperCenter. I did spend about an hour draped all over a shopping cart at the local grocery store the other day, and I pulled it off, but wow, did it ever wreck me. I was beat and useless the rest of the day.

So, I could see this lack of exercise was gonna be a killer should I let it go. So, I ordered this:

That would be this hybrid trainer. I figure I can sit or stand and work out my arms, too, depending on how I feel.

It should be noted that I hate working out with the heat of a thousand suns. I hate working out on machines even more. However, if I want to continue to occupy my little spot on this planet for much longer, that has to change, and change in a positive direction.

So, as soon as it's put together, away I go.

And I've really, really been a sodium Nazi with my food. I went through my cabinets the other day, and pretty much anything that was over ten percent minimum daily requirement for sodium went out the door. I gave it all to Cuzzin Tom, who will pick over what he wants and take the remainder to a food bank in Dodge City. It has been an education in and of itself finding out how loaded with salt our diet really is, and how some claims for heart health are pure bullshit. I'm talking to you, Campbells, when it comes to your heart healthy soups. How can it be heart healthy when your sodium contend starts approaching fifty percent of the minimum daily requirement? Like over forty percent? I read somewhere that when they came out with that line of soup that the sodium was considerably lower (but still high at over twenty percent and well above my cutoff of ten percent), but sales were down until they pumped a bunch of salt in for flavor.

I was buying buttloads of roma tomatoes and running them and other veggies - green bell pepper, onion, celery, mushrooms, carrots and so on into a veggie sauce and cook that down for the better part of a day. I had it all loaded up with a ton of spices, and to make tomato soup I just added some sodium free chicken broth. I'd been a big user of chicken and beef bouillon, but that stuff is basically salt with a flavor added. And I lucked out at the local grocery store - Wally World sure as hell didn't carry this. Hormel makes sodium free bouillon powders in chicken and beef flavors (Herb-Ox is the brand line). The store carried a box with some one cup packets. Turns out they have jars available, but no one around here carries 'em. Amazon sells it by the case, so I'm sitting on a case each of chicken and beef powders.

And Mrs. Dash's hotter flavors really add some zing in food - I've used it in sauces, soups and stews, and pretty much everything else as well. Most of my cooking now has a Tex Mex or Italian flavor with heat.

I even tried mixing hamburger and ground turkey. That worked well for meatballs in spaghetti, but to make a patty and eat that - fail big time. Having the sauce mask the lack of flavor is one thing, but when that crap stands alone - even when it had onion, bell pepper and spices it was crap.

Lesson learned.

And it turns out there is quite a variety of tomato sauces available in low sodium. It's far more convenient to have the canned stuff on hand, but the stuff I made really has that fresh sparkle to it.

I've also purchased a double boiler/steamer pot setup - not much sodium in fresh veggies steamed rather than the sodium loaded canned stuff, or even messing with the frozen.

I've always got fresh  fruit on hand as well - navel oranges, apples, pears, bananas and so on. Bananas really help with potassium levels - when you have to take meds to pee a lot, you deplete your potassium, magnesium and yes, even your sodium levels. So, I have to take prescription strength potassium supplement as well as magnesium vitamins as well. I had to laugh - my last blood test at the doctor's showed I was low on sodium. I can't win for losing.

But anyways, if your levels drop too much, you cannot believe the muscle cramps. Generally they start in my left hand - and if I'm lucky, I can grab it with my right hand and straighten out my fingers and maybe the impulse to cramp up passe. Or not, and I get cramps in my right hand, and just have to sit there and watch my fingers writhe out of control and in pain.

During my second to last visit to the horse pistol I had a cramping episode that lasted over two hours. I needed another Klor-Con pill, but that required doctor's orders, and it took that long to obtain permission. I did talk 'em out of a banana and a couple little tiny cans of tomato juice, but even that really requires doctor's orders, and those nurses are't gonna lose their jobs giving me something I'm gonna get and everyone knows it, but their asses would be out in the wind doing that without specific doctor's orders. This last trip I pissed off the entire process because I had some of my meds with me and I took what I needed rather than wait for two hours. That cramping episode only lasted a half hour instead of two or three.

I was a bad boy - violating hospital policy. I told 'em they could blow me - I had the solution with me and there was no sense in torturing myself just to follow their slow, ineffective thinking. The nurses really agreed with me, but they had to keep the official policy. Job security, yannow.

So, I am eating the correct stuff and frankly, it tastes pretty good. You might have a problem with no salt, but I've learned to get along without it in a healthy manner. I will be getting some exercise, too. I feel like I'm doing the right things or working on getting to that point, at any rate.

And as far as the bouncing weight - I did get back to my original weight after starting keeping records once, but I'm still about six or seven pounds below right now. And many tell me that it took months to get to this point, it's gonna take that to reverse the trend. Even so, when I gain my 'tude gets pretty low, and my need to post stuff here kinda evaporates. Just. Not. In. The. Mood.

But, overall, I'm mostly optimistic and even cheery some days. Hope y'all are doing well in these supposedly closing days of winter. Supposedly, at any rate!

Chickens. Roost. You Do The Math

This isn't gonna be easy - parts of my life I have deliberately kept from public consumption, but it's pretty clear now that was more or less a waste of time. So, here goes.

I might be out of the hospital, but it's not because I'm appreciably better. I was admitted because I had congestive heart failure. What that means is that my body was retaining water to the point of ridiculousness. My stomach is extended to the point of distension. When I eat something, I am immediately short of breath because there is just no room in my body cavity for the bottom of my lungs against the diaphragm to expand. Also, I generally find myself in the bathroom within a half hour of eating, regardless. Making room.

So what put me in this state? I'm on diuretics, right? Well, yes I am, but they don't always work as advertised. I've also got by definition kidney disease because of my diabetes, so just increasing the dosage is not necessarily an option. Unless I'm wanting kidney dialysis real bad.

Plus, I've got a leaky valve in my heart. This has been going on for a long time. My previous cardiologist held the opinion that getting it fixed would be riskier than just letting it be. He felt is wasn't serious.

This is in total contrast to the local cardiologist. I've seen him in the past - the other one is from Wichita and I sometimes have to go there to see him. He does come out here to the medical center I frequent once a month. But the local one wanted to see me in short intervals and his lab fees were significantly higher than any one else I'd seen. Since my insurance paid based on their idea of the cost, that meant more coming out of my pocket. I just felt at the time he was breaking me, so I went back to the doctor from Wichita.

The problem with this leaky valve over time is that it allowed backpressure in the system - every time my heart pumps, it pressures up both sides of the system. This is forcing water from my blood into my tissues. My weakened kidneys can't handle it. I actually gained over forty pounds from my first hospital stay to my latest. I can assure you that is not because I was gorging myself at the local buffets.

It didn't help that my company switched insurance companies at the first of the year and I never received a card with the necessary info. So, I had a ton of doctors' appointments that I wasn't about to go to until I got this straightened out. By the time I did, I could barely drag myself to my pickup to drive to Dodge. I did have the foresight to bring my overnight bag, laptop and some other stuff. I figured I wasn't coming home, and I did not.

Back to my water retention - apparently my sodium intake was too high.

Now I'm here to tell you I thought I was doing a good job of avoiding sodium. I do not eat potato chips or other salty snacks. I didn't even have a salt shaker in the house until one of my classmates came to visit for several days, and I knew she's want some salt. My sister even breaks out the salt shaker to season the foods I prepare.

But I wasn't avoiding enough of the "bad" foods. Lunchmeat, bread, canned soups, cheese, sausage, bacon, tomato sauce, salad dressing - man the list goes on and on. It doesn't bother most of the populace, but me it does. A couple of the major offenders I was eating was dill pickles and the instant cup of ramen noodles. I'd eat some Cherub tomatoes and have several dill pickles for my evening snack, and when I was trucking, I'd have pickles packed to go with my deli sandwiches. Which, as it turns out, is actually a tad lower in sodium than regular commercial lunchmeat. Still high, though.

I have switched to fruit (fresh, dried and canned (sugar free)) as a snack, but too little too late. I'd bet my sodium levels are lower than most, but still too high for my weakened kidneys.

Apparently I've been drinking too many fluids, too. I generally went through about a gallon of tea, plus any juices or milk. Rarely any sodas. Which apparently overwhelmed my system.

So what does all this mean for my future?

I'm still weak as hell - and I'm still anemic, for that matter. My red blood cell count is still in the nines when it should be in the twelves and higher. Apparently the kidneys signal the bone marrow to produce, so yeah. Borked kidneys.

So that leaves me in far too poor shape for a heart surgeon to want to screw with. I'm simply not worth the risk to them. Plus, getting that valve repaired is no guarantee that my system won't immediately build up the backpressure again.

So I am on a liquid restriction and a diet. I have to exercise, period. No choice.

I have always approached diet and exercise as something to be scoffed at and never even attempted. Not me, not interested. It's been a way of life since day one, as far as I can remember. I'm sure there are self image problems associated with this self destructive attitude. On top of all that, I am King of All Procrastinators. Why do today what I can put off until tomorrow? And I'm pretty much an anti-social hermit most of the time.

And, my close friends know this. My Cuzzin' Tom stopped in to see me Friday before he helped me get released on Saturday, and he had an intervention in mind. An intervention just like you'd give to an alky or druggy or whatever. He informed me that he wasn't going to stand for more of the same from me - he was there to help and support me, but he'd kick my ass if I didn't reform. He told me that I was a very great person who everyone loves, and he did NOT want to have to explain all of that to someone while he was standing next to my casket. He and my buddy Road Pig hold the opinion that my house burned down so I would learn just how much the community values me.

He's been working on losing some weight and exercising, and he knows the little tricks one uses to motivate. Instead of looking at something as a chore, look at it as something that improves my health. Take every chance to do something on foot every day - haul out my garbage (something I've been too weak to do, and I generally put it in my pickup and drive to the dumpster which is about a hundred yards away), just walk around the area, whatever, as long as I get out and do something. If I'm snowed in or have some sort of weather, just do some stuff inside - as long as I do something.

Needless to say, he got my attention. It was pretty emotional for both of us. Thing is, he is absolutely correct, end of story, no other argument accepted.

I like tomato sauce? Get a ton of roma tomatoes and make it myself. Tomato soup - the same only buy a chicken and boil it, pull the chicken out, remove the skin, debone that for various meals, and cook down the broth - no sodium in that. Chicken broth for the tomato soup. Which is what I did Saturday and Sunday. I made my own tomato soup - actually more of a vegetable soup with mass quantities of tomato. I had chopped up bell peppers, onion, garlic, celery, carrots and such and got it to cooking, and was busy dicing tomatoes and the thought that the chunks would have to be sieved out and what a waste - when I saw my blender staring at me. Problem solved. I used about a cup and a half of my highly reduced chicken broth and have even more saved back, and I've got several meals worth of my own tomato soup. It's kinda spicy, but that's what I was doing with the canned stuff. It's different, but it's fresh, not sugared and salted up. I also found I could use it for flavor in the ramen noodle cups - I'd shake out the freeze dried veggies and then rinse out all the salty dried broth flavor, add the freeze dried veggies back, add some frozen mixed veggies from the freezer, and pour in the tomato soup. Turned out pretty good.

I've also got a big container of chicken salad now - and I used fat free Miracle Whip - which is relatively low in sodium compared to the other stuff. I made chicken breakfast tacos for breakfast - I started out thinking I had the ingredients for two tacos, and it turned into enough for four. In the past, I would have went ahead and made all the tacos I could and ate 'em all - waste not want not, right? Today, I have the makings for another breakfast in the fridge. I used the salad I had already made up for topping as well - perhaps diced carrots aren't necessarily a breakfast item, but they were today on my tacos. I used a griddle coated with butter flavored cooking spray, chopped red and green bell peppers, a small amount of diced onion, some canned sliced jalapenos, two eggs and a ton of spices. I did go ahead and use a small amount of cheese and hot sauce.

And, even though it's really too soon to tell, this all does seem to be working. I lost 3.4 pounds over yesterday morning's weight. My cardiologist told me to be happy with a pound/week - but this is for sure water weight. I kinda had a clue, based on how many potty trips were needed yesterday. The diuretics worked well yesterday. The real test is if that continues - I had days before where the diuretics kicked arse, but maybe only once a week, which was not enough. Plus, several months ago, I had seemingly reached a stalemate losing weight - but that was when I was forty pounds lighter. It seems that once I get so much water off, that's it. Until, I suspect, I knock off some real weight.

I suspect I'll be looking into a lot of things online - like sodium free broth, low sodium soups and so on. Most of what I've seen on Amazon per soups are that the really low level stuff is all vegan organic. Blechhhh. I'm not ordering a case of that stuff until I try a single can from somewhere. And if you look at the labels on, oh, say Campbell's Heart Healthy stuff? Loaded, absolutely loaded with salt. In fact, a lot of that stuff has added sodium to make up for the lack of taste from less fats. That might be heart healthy for some, but not for moi.

The dietician I spoke with told me it was more important to get a handle on portion control that worry about counting calories just yet. Main course meat? Size of a computer mouse. Can't use Montreal Steak Seasoning anymore. Baked potato? One of the smaller taters - certainly not one of the huge baked taters the restaurants serve.

I'm sure I'm going to end up mixing my own salad dressings as well - vinegar and oil and spices I'm sure. I'll be shopping a lot more in the fresh produce sections. Online recipes for ideas, etc.

One thing that really irked me about my convo with the dietician - sure, lots of sodium filled foods are right out - like tons of bacon. But then she advised me to eat sandwiches with meats from the deli, which are lower in sodium than your average Oscar Meyer stuff. Hello? Bread and deli meats are still loaded with sodium - how can that be acceptable? It is, though. Beats me.

So my life is gonna be full of challenges of all sizes, each and every day. I guess one good thing - I was sure counting on lap band surgery to help me out - if I can't hold it, I can't screw it up, right? But if I can control my diet and lose weight in order to make myself healthy enough to be a candidate for surgery, why bother with it? I wouldn't need to go through that if I can diet successfully enough to lose that much weight. I put that in the plus column of future goals.

I dunno. I'm not sure I'm strong enough - but like Cuzzin' Tom says, little steps that I can successfully complete and put in the win column. It's taken a pretty big step just to get to this point - I just hope I can maintain and improve. Two days does not make a recovery.

And let me reiterate that this situation is my fault. Maybe I've got bad genes. Maybe I was raised wrong. Does. Not. Matter. I knew enough that what I was doing to myself was bad for my health, and I did it anyway. Nobody held a gun to my head, nor programmed my mind, or sent out mind control rays, or whatever. It's all on me, myself, and I.

I can take heart in that I am blessed with some very good friends. My buddy Road Pig has tried his own variety of intervention over the years, and I've ignored his advice. My buddy the Young Doctor spoke rather frankly to me several months ago on the subject. And Cuzzin' Tom. And particularly my sister. How can I ever be worthy of these people? Clearly they must be deranged to love me as they do. Boy, do I have the wool pulled over their eyes.

Well, maybe not so much. Maybe it's time I cut myself some slack and learned how to take care of myself not only for my sake, but for theirs as well, and the community as a whole.

I Am Out

And I'm alive. More later.

Eight Pounds

Less than the day before, according to the Magical Mystery Scales.

The Plan

Here is what I know so far - Tuesday, I'll be getting scanned to inspect the defective heart valve. If it's serious enough, I'll have to go somewhere else and have someone new operate on it. The local cardiologist doesn't do much if any open heart surgery. But any major decisions will have to wait until the scans are read. So the plan is to keep trying to shed the water.

Whether or not I'm in physical shape enough to have the procedure done or not remains to be seen. In the meantime, they have started up using another diuretic. If the weird scales are reading correctly, I have lost two pounds. I have a brand spanking new bariatric bed and a bariatric recliner will be here tomorrow. I hadn't been sleeping well in the regular hospital bed, and my nurse noticed, and told my doctor so all this stuff could be ordered.

I'm not wild about open heart surgery. However, if the choice is operate or die I suspect I know the decision on my part.

And all I know for certain is that I will be here for a while yet.

At The Moment, I'm Pretty Bummed

Things are not improving here. I'm not losing the water, or any weight. I'm on a low sodium, diabetic and restricted liquid diet here, and my weight may actually be rising a tad. It's hard to tell, because I have to use the wheelchair scales because I'm too freaking big for the other kind, and these are less than reliable. We can get about a fifteen to twenty pound spread depending on where I stand on 'em, so I've been trying to be consistent and be in the same place. One thing is clear no matter - I'm not losing a damn thing.

So what is going on?

Several things. I apparently have kidney disease. What specific kind or if there is one, I have no idea - they all just say I have have kidney disease brought on by diabetes. So, they don't function as efficiently as they should, and one reason why the diuretics are less than effective at times. Because of the risk of damage to my kidneys, they decided to stop one of the diuretics - but they've been injecting these rather than giving them to me orally like I have been doing. Thus the increased risk. The cardiologist apparently decided that I needed the other drug and risk damage to my kidneys, because he reinstated one of them today.

Plus, they think I was eating too much sodium. I didn't even have a salt shaker in the house until recently when I bought one for a guest. I do not salt a damn thing.

But apparently what I've been eating has been too salty.

Personally, it does not seem logical that would be the problem because I sure as hell ain't getting any salty crap right now, and I'm not losing the water. If that was the problem, less salt would be an effective strategy for the solution. But it's not working, regardless of the cause.

But what do I know.

The local cardiologist has been after me in the past and is definitely looking at a leaky heart valve as a major contributor to the problem. The cardiologist I've been seeing told me I wasn't leaking enough for it to be worth the risk of an operation, and it wouldn't be causing me any trouble. When I repeated that to my main doctor she pointed out immediately that I was back in the hospital for congestive heart failure within a couple months, so maybe that was a pretty good indicator that it was a problem. And that is why I'm here - my heart is surrounded by too much fluid. At least that's what the xrays show.

Kinda hard to argue with that.

I like this particular cardiologist, but his office calls are higher and he wants to see me a lot more, and his labs are all higher priced, etc. Above and beyond what my insurance would pay.

So, back in the past, I got tired of that.

My main doctor told me I could sure get a third opinion and had a recommendation for another cardiologist that does valve work all the time and is quite familiar with fixing 'em up. But it sure seems to me I'm looking at some sort of heart surgery. Maybe they can do that with scopes and not have to open me up, I just don't know.

I just know that after my last open heart surgery I swore I'd rather die than go through that again - my time in the ICU was one long nightmare I don't care to repeat ever, ever again.

I had to ask why the leaky valve was a problem in this case as well, because I had no clue.

Apparently, there is a sort of backwash in pressure when the valve doesn't close completely and that increased pressure causes fluid to be forced into tissues in the lungs. It ain't my lungs that are hanging way the hell over my belt or raising water blisters on my shins along with edema everywhere, but apparently it travels. And fixing the valve may or may not decrease that back pressure.

Remember when I had the bright idea of having lap band surgery?

That is all right out until this crap is straightened up. I'm too weak for that kind of stuff. So that is also out as a strategy for improving my overall health - not gonna lose weight doing that real soon.

And I have no clue what my future here is. I still cannot walk very far at all without becoming winded. I can get around my house ok, but shop for groceries or go to the Post Office?

It wasn't happening before, and things aren't improving now anyhow.

I haven't seen my main doctor yet today, so you can imagine I'm full of questions. I also need something different for diabetic neuropathy in my legs. Yannow when your leg falls asleep, and when it wakes up you feel like it's got tons of pins and needles pricking you? Now imagine this going on all the time, and instead of pricks the needles are being driven in, and imagine your legs involuntarily jumping from the pain.

Yeah, it's kinda like that. She's put me on a particular drug that worked quite well for a while, but it's a pretty short term thing now. So in order to sleep, I have been taking Percocet to supplement gabapentin. I'm not wild about taking that kind of drug considering my past, and we need to try something different. I don't like the idea of runnin' around half baked all the time. This all came on after my fall earlier this year - I don't have much feeling left in either foot, but those ol' nerves still fire in pain.

Then, the edema has the skin around my knees all full of water, so it hurts to bend my knees back all the way. The skin on my belly is tight - so full of water. Some patches are all red and quite painful - they're trying to start up some stretch marks. I've got some already, and they're all full and inflexible as well. The veins on the back of my hands have disappeared, and my feet don't fit into my house slippers anymore. I honestly think I get so winded partly because I've maxed out weight wise beyond my ability to haul it around.

So, I can't get out and walk in order to get some exercise. It does more harm than good - stressing my heart, for instance.

And while trying to write this post, my left hand cramped up badly. This happens fairly frequently. It's usually a potassium deficiency because the diuretics really use that up. I already take Klor Con, which is a prescription potassium supplement. I also have to take magnesium supplements. I ate a banana and one of my pills, and it seems to have subsided. It generally reduces me to cursing and pulling the cramps out with my right hand.. I have had both hands go south, and that is no fun at all. That happened during one of my visits here, and it took an Act of Congress before anyone would do anything. We had to call my doctor and have her authorize the pills as well as a banana - that had to come from  food service and was delivered when they were darned well ready. The nurses could lose their jobs if they don't go through channels, so it's really not their fault something like that takes so long. They weren't happy that I didn't wait when I had a solution in my possession already, but I got kinda testy about it and went ahead and did it anyways. I had some friends bring me several bananas and I have my weekly supply of drugs with me. So, yeah, sit there and watch my hand twist and shout, or take a pill I already had. Gee, what a choice.

So, whose fault is all of this?

Well, I'm the one who didn't take care of himself until apparently it's too late, so you won't hear me crying "Why me, God?!?" Nope, I take responsibility for it all, and I really don't feel like I deserve a whole hell of a lot of sympathy other than I have been trying the past few years, and it ain't cuttin' the mustard.

So, I'm bummed.

Yee Haw

Calvin is having more success than moi

Welp, I'm back in the hospital again for much the same problems as before - retaining water to the point of congestive heart failure. I'm still weak as a kitten and tire far too easily just trying to walk a few yards, and I'm picking up weight steadily. I'm not eating a corresponding amount - it's water weight, but it's just wearing me down. The diuretics just aren't working like they should.

So, I'm for thinking I'll be here for a few days. On a fluid restriction - not allowed to drink more that a small amount every day, and one of the diuretics is intravenous.

So I'm gettin' poked and prodded, givin' blood alla time and now I'm thirsty. So we'll see, I guess.

'Nother Update

Towards the end of last week, I started noticing how dizzy I was getting when I stood up. I've had that before, but it would last a short time, and I could go on. This time not so much. It got bad enough that I decided not to go to Wichita on Thursday to see the retina specialist, then on Friday I quit taking my morning meds. I had an appointment to see my family doctor on Friday, so off I went.

Turns out I was anemic again - and she put me in the hospital again. I thought I'd be in overnight, but they kept having to give me more blood because my red blood cell count wasn't rising. They were also pretty concerned where it was all going.

They decided it was mostly too much of a blood thinner (Xarelto) and discontinued that. Blood levels in my discharges from the rear end dropped. They stuck four units of blood in me as well, but it only has brought me up to nine point something and should be closer to twelve, but since the outflow has diminished they aren't so worried. I've been scoped from both ends - last time I was here - but they are too short to see it all. So, I'll be swallowing a camera that's gonna take that trip. Probably after Christmas.

Hopefully I can get out today.

Update Time

Ho ho ho! Santa is full of air, at any rate

I was feeling full of pi$$ and vinegar Sunday so I decided to put out my astounding collection of Christmas decorations freshly purchased from Wally World. I was just in my t-shirt and underwear, and just slapped on a pair of gym shorts. As the day progressed, that was really not appropriate attire. Brrr.

This picture lies

You'd think I put lights up the whole length of my gutters on the side of the house, but you'd be wrong. I just put up about thirty feet on the part of the house that is most visible from the street. I might have felt good, but not "hang lights on the whole house" good.

While I was out near the street tying ol' Santa down, one of my friends came riding by on his bike - and he stopped in for a visit. I'm mostly a hermit, but on the other hand, it was great to see him and shoot the breeze.

Monday was a pretty decent day too. It was a tad warmer than Sunday, so I buttoned up a heavy windbreaker and jumped on my bike for about an hour or so. I didn't ride around town - I headed out towards Dodge and came back on a back road. By the time I got home, the wind had finally driven into my clothing. Sixty degrees is just beyond the abilities of my clothing to keep me warm. I ordered a leather biker jacket later on - we'll see if the thing fits.

Yesterday was a big trip to Wally World. After sitting in a bed for some time and more or less being house ridden for a while has really put me behind as far as any kind of stamina. I was really kinda pooped from the past couple days, and today I'm really suffering.

Part of the trouble is my leg muscles have had to change how they are used. I've pretty well lost the feeling in my toes. It feels like I'm walking on the balls of my feet, and my toes are not touching the ground. That ain't what's happening - they're on the ground as normal - I just can't feel it. So, that means I'm no longer balancing on my toes - I'm balancing on the balls of my feet. So, since that requires rather a tad more torque outta my leg muscles in my shin just below the knee - by nighttime they are screaming. It will just take time to get used to it. I've had diabetic neuropathy long enough to be extremely familiar with all this - I hate climbing on ladders because I have no real sense of where my feet are on the rungs. I can do it, but I have to be very careful and look down once in a while to check and see if what I'm feeling is actually correct.

Tomorrow I've gotta go to Wichita. My opthamologist found that I've got some damage in the right retina - diabetic retinopathy is the cause. Last time I saw him, he noted it, but it wasn't affecting my vision. Now it is. Apparently I've ruptured a small blood vessel, and the specialist in Wichita will probably zap it with a laser. So, no big deal, just another doctor and a bill. I'd certainly like to get that fixed.

At some point in January, I'll be going to an orientation class at Via St. Christie in Wichita for bariatric surgery. I just can't help but feel that is my best choice. I can't exercise because I'm too heavy, I have no willpower to lose weight, a lot of my health problems would be considerably relieved if I lost weight, exercising would be far easier, and on and on and on. All my doctors agree.

So that is what I'm a gonna do!

I'm Free

Y'all probably have guessed by now that I'm out of the horse pistol. They actually let me go late Wednesday night - about 10:30 or so. I had Cuzzin Tom take me to Wally World for a few supplies - I stayed in the pickup. However, we ended up going back to the hospital for him to get his pickup, and  I drove home. Since it was so late, I was unable to fill any prescriptions, so I had plans to do that Thursday. Until I more or less slept until noon or one, and went back to sleep and didn't wake up until 5pm. I had a couple doctor appointments on Friday, so I went to those and made it to WalMart.

Looking back on what I've posted, I did say I fell, but I didn't say why. For some odd reason, I could stay on my feet fully clothed, but at home in underwear and a t-shirt my legs would shut down. I've got a pinched nerve. I could feel it coming on, and generally sat down for a couple minutes and things went back to working for another ten or fifteen minutes. I could feel my thighs going dead and thought I could make it to my chair. Nope. I dropped like a rock.

After living in the crappy bed and furniture at the hospital, I find that I'm more or less numb in my lower back. The bed had my ass asleep most of the time, and moving around didn't help. I can't tell if things have shifted enough to help, but it does seem to be that I can get around half nekked now. Just too numb to be sure. Since I have diabetic neuropathy, none of this is any surprise. Just something else to live with.

Officially, I was admitted due to congestive heart failure. In practice, that means I've filled up with fluid so much that when I ate something, it cut into space for the lungs to expand when I breath. My heart would also be surrounded by way too much fluid. Nothing actually failed, but things were certainly labored. By definition, I have COPD.

I also have borked kidneys. All the drugs are taking their toll on my major organs, and the kidneys are on the front lines, as it were. Diuretics force the kidneys to work harder, and eventually the drugs lose their effectiveness. The main test for kidney function is to check the creatinine levels. Creatinine is a waste product from the cells burning energy from food. If that is high, then the kidneys aren't functioning properly. So, my doctors had to try several different strategies with different drugs to still take water out of the blood, and retain effectiveness. Another thing that was borked was my red blood cell count - I was pretty anemic. They gave me two units of whole blood cells to help fix that. Apparently healthy kidneys signal blood marrow to produce red blood cells, and if the kidneys are out of whack, this does not happen. So anemia is another indicator that things ain't right with the kidneys. Now, however, my creatinine levels are normal, and I'm slowly losing water weight. I've also got an appointment with a nephrologist. I also have an appointment with the podiatrist that drained my infection in my foot as well. Since I've lost a lot of feeling in my feet, having someone look 'em over isn't a bad idea.

When I went to see my doctor, I told her I was sick of living like this and wanted to change things. One of the things I was aiming for was for some sort of bariatric surgery, probably of the lap band variety. All my doctors seem to be on board with this thinking, and she's working on getting me in to Via Christie's program in Wichita. Honestly, it's either do that or die within a few years. I may kick the bucket at any time anyways with the borked ticker I have, but if I don't do something, I'm stressing too many crucial systems by continuing to live the way I do. And if I do lose the weight, I'm removing most of the stresses.

I've managed to give up just about every vice I've ever had except for eating. Quit smoking cigarettes? You just don't smoke 'em anymore. Lose weight? You still have to eat something to survive. Very different. I guess that's my excuse for not having any willpower.

Which, for me, is the crux of the dilemma. Honestly, I have only myself to blame - I've blown right past common sense when it comes to taking proper care of myself. I don't exercise and eat way too much. I could rail on my parents for not blessing me with the genes necessary to pull that crap off, but I knew my decisions were bad when I made 'em. You will NEVER hear me cry out "Why ME, God?!?!?" I know the answer to that question already. It's my fault.

I can fix it, though, if I work at it. Do I wanna live or die? Pretty simple.

It's a Pissah

Well, probably gonna be here a while yet - my doctor says somewhere towards the end of next week that she'll probably send me home.

So, this is the story.

I definitely broke my middle toe, and I just had another CT scan to determine if I'd broken something in the arch of my foot. I just cannot put any weight on it without it screaming at me not do do that. The local podiatrist suspected there would be some fluid buildup with an infection, so he numbed 'er up and did some poking and he was right. Had quite a bit of fluid. I've also got an infection on my shins that is often part of problem edema. They've got an IV port on me and shove two different antibiotics through.

My right foot just appears to be sore with a gash on the big toe. It's healing up nicely. I'm also on massive amounts of diuretics, which have been introduced intravenously. The same diuretics in pill form have let me down, but if ya shoot 'em up, they work great.

Which brings me to the worst part - the damn catheter. I hate 'em. Feel like ya gotta "go" when what you really wanna do is pee the damn thing out. I'm on number two bag - one developed a leak. Guess it had been leaving a hard life.

So, I can't walk, can't pee normally, and am pretty well bedridden.

Someone tried to call the room phone earlier today. Pshaw. After I've dropped the bed, squeezed the boys sliding across the blanket, and obtaining an Act of Congress to move, the phone would have quit ringing.

Long story short - I ain't gonna answer that thing. I've got a cell phone within reach, and if you can't call on that, I don't have the ability to answer a landline.

Thirty years ago, I'd think part of my treatment would have been pretty damn cool, but not so much now. I speak of Percocet. Jeebus Kee Riste is that shit powerful. It's about all I can do to stay awake, much less pay much attention to anything else. I sure as hell don't hurt - which is a good thing. These damn beds are so not supportive - I've got dangly bits and limbs going to sleep all the time.

They wanted me to use a sort of air pressured circulatory "socks" and I did try 'em. Sticky, clammy and then I really am rooted to bed, because those damn things have to be disconnected to get out. Sometimes, I just like to sit on the edge of the bed, and that about requires help. I hate having to use that call button as well - I know they're pretty busy and my wanting a diet pop is pretty low on their totem poles.

But I can't get out on my feet just yet.

And I've been taking off a ton of water - for some reason my weight isn't dropping as fast, but they can only push my kidneys so far. Earlier, I had some pretty severe cramps in my left arm - the first time lasted about fifteen minutes, but the second time was close to three hours. I just had to give up trying to straighten that hand out. All I could do was watch it writhe and twist into new and artistic shapes. But, my potassium and magnesium dosages have increased considerably, which seems to have done the trick.

I'm sure that after I'm dismissed, I'll be headed to an appointment with a weight loss clinic in Wichita. My concerns about being unable to go there two and three times a week appear to be unfounded - apparently they all use Skype for their conferences.

We shall see, eh?

Kinda Crispy Lookin'

For the past several months I've been gaining weight. As in fifty or more pounds. Honestly, it has been more than I can bear - I just cannot carry around anymore. I can't walk across the room without getting winded. Any time I eat anything, it cuts into my breathing. There just ain't room.

Of course, it's water weight.

I've even been cutting way way back on portions - like I should have been for years. And now my insulin resistance has changed markedly - it takes a lot less to do the same thing. Which has gotten me in trouble a couple times - hypoglycemia is not my friend. I've considered lap band surgery in the past, but the biggest problem is that there are no "providers" in this area. Wichita, Topeka, Denver, OKC  and KC no problem. Here not so much.

Plus all this weight gain has caused me another problem - been having trouble with a pinched nerve killing feeling in my legs when I'm at home wearing underwear and a tshirt. Relaxing uniform of the day for this fat boy. Fully clothed for whatever reason does not bother me, other than not having the wind necessary to do a damn thing.

So, when the front of my thighs started going numb, I'd park my butt on a chair for a few minutes and go on about my bidness. Sunday night I gambled on making it to the ol' easy chair in front of the tv rather than having a pit stop at the kitchen table. It didn't work. My legs buckled and my butt landed on my heels. I hypercompressed the ol' toes, the foot against the ankle, and just plain exceeded the design specs of said feet.

It really didn't hurt very bad, and I was able to regain my feet in short order. I iced the left foot quite a bit, but was really quite shocked to see what you see a  couple days later. The other foot - the toes were bent back, but not badly.

So, just try to walk around without using your toes. I had an appointment for Monday, but could not see walking that far into my doctor's office. Rescheduled, by golly. Had to postpone some other appointments as well - one with my chiropractor, who had been trying to ease the nerve pinching. It's about been all I can do just to walk from one side of the house to the other, so I guess it's been just as well that my diuretics have been failing. Lots less traveling, as it were.

I went into the office with a mission - I'm tired of living like this, I have tried dieting, and even now it's not working for me. I've gotta do something, or my time is extremely limited here. I wanted a recommendation from her for a weight loss surgeon, procedure or whatever, as well as figuring out what's going on with the water retention. Not all that swelling is from bruising - my ankles and calves weren't affected by this fall. That's just water, period. You aren't seeing how my skin is erupting in blisters that are oozing fluid.

Got the advice and more. She admitted me into the hospital, where they've been x-raying and so forth, blood testing for a jillion different things, got me hooked to a Foley catheter and giving me diuretics intravenously. Congestive heart failure is the main diagnosis. Anemic, slightly higher than normal liver creatine levels, antibiotics for the infection in my foot, you name it.

Things are already progressing for the better, and there are gonna be some changes made as well. If I've got to drive to Wichita for weight counseling all the time, so be it. Otherwise, I might as well kiss my arse goodbye.

Not ready to do that yet.

A Tad Peeved

Don't you know it.....

Picked up my mail the other day, and lo and behold, I have a bill from a bill collection agency. It's for my emergency hospital stay. All the bill said was that the total was such and such, and I owed so and so. No itemization or squat - no indication of individual items and what the insurance paid, had not paid, or was pending. Just a bill.

From a collection agency.

Made me stew for a while, and I did have plans to call them and ask for an itemized bill, and then this morning, after I fired up my cell phone, I had a voice message.

From the bill collection agency.

Are you f$#@ing kidding me? I just got this bill in the mail about three days ago, no bill before, and already I've got bill collectors after my ass? For what?!?

I have no plans of NOT paying this thing - but I'd like better information. So I called 'em back and told 'em I did NOT get an itemized bill, and before I paid the complete balance, I expected to see one.

I've had this problem before - it's the voice of experience. This time it's the hospital, last time it was a certain medical center in the certain town with Boot Hill and Wyatt Earp Blvd. off to the east. When checking in there, they require you to at least make a payment on any outstanding bills. I was seeing a doctor there fairly regularly. I was paying every time I went in. Each time, they required at least fifty bucks. Finally, one day, I got an itemized bill. They were into me for several hundred dollars - there was no need to keep adding money to my balance. They'd been billing me for the full amounts before the insurance settlements, getting the settlements, and never letting me know I had a balance. So, the next time I went in, I was told I had to make a payment. I asked why? Well - because I owed it. Really? You want fifty bucks when I've got over two hundred on account? You tell me why again.

Oh. Well. We don't look at that.

Well, that little experience let me know that the billing side of their business is set up to draw in as much money as possible, legit, owed or not.

I was highly peeved and let the person know about it. They could have given a rat's ass. They've all justified their despicable behavior so they can sleep at night.

So, this gal today would send my itemized statement right out. I told her I'd put five hundred down (the bill is over $1800) just so they knew I was gonna pay. Of course the next thing was to get me to agree to monthly $500 payments.

Nope, not gonna happen until I get the itemized bill, and make sure the insurance company is through paying.

Honestly, I'm sure that my health insurance had paid off, and this is the final bill. But I don't know that for sure.

Y'see, this whole mess is one reason why I grate my teeth when the subject of uninsured patients come up. Why in the wide wide world of sports do ya think this crap goes on? Why do you suppose that bills are padded, services are overcharged and people who actually pay bills harassed? Why do you suppose that many doctors take cash payments that are severely discounted compared to what insurance companies pay (excuse me - partially pay).

It's to cover the uninsured who do not pay their bills. It's to pay for the illegal aliens who register under a false name and no billing company on earth can track 'em.

This is hardly the most equitable of income redistribution, but it is happening. Most of these for profit health organizations are quite healthy in the ol' balance sheet, and it's not because they're such Good Samaritans when it comes to people who can't afford their bills. They've just gamed the system to have the rest of us cover it.

And now Barry and the Democrats want us to cover even more expenses, and we're gonna have the IRS as the collection agency.

What could possibly go wrong?

Been Gettin' Some Doctorin' Done

such a happy face

My new temporary bridge. Y'all may have noticed my toothless smile if you've into me in the past year. I had a crown that would come off, and rather than go to the dentist, I'd just glue it back on with some carefully selected gooey super glue. But, when it would inevitably come loose, it took some of the supporing incisor with it. It also had a post in there, and when it came loose, the whole thing started going downhill. I couldn't get it to hold for more than a few hours, so I saved it all and went on.

Well, then the house burned down, and I never had the money after that. Now I do. My dentist is using an incisor that already had a crown, and the little one next to the mostly absent tooth. The tooth that had just a tiny bit projecting past the gum line was pulled.

So I'm a tad sore right now, but what's been bothering me more is the dying skin tags I had frozen off  Monday the fourteenth. They've been shriveling up into little black mouse turds and every time I move in a t-shirt, they are irritated. I had more than thirty around my neck, several under both arms and in the pits, several at the back of my neck, and even one on my inner thigh. Most have now come loose, but it looks like I've got a ton of wasp stings. Be glad I didn't want to share a visual earlier.

So, in six weeks he'll make a cast for a permanent bridge when the swelling all goes down. In the mean time, I've got to be pretty careful what I bite on. In other words, corn on the cob is right out, and apples will have to be sliced. Probably hamburgers and about everything else, for that matter.

And I gotta say I really like my dentist. He is basically the same age as me - we played sports against each other in high school, and we share a lot of the same friends. He's been my dentist for years, and we have gotten to know each other fairly well. I feel damned comfortable with him rootin' around in my mouth, not only because of what we have in common, but because he's good.

So, I'm finally getting some of these piddly arsed problems solved.

I'm Free!

link

Well, I feel that free in spirit. I can assure you that I'm not doing all that running around for real, just in my mind.

Ok, so for you that don't know, I'll back up and start at the beginning.

Yesterday afternoon, sitting comfortably in my recliner, I had one hell of a chest pain. It felt like someone was in the chest cavity and slugged out right over my heart (between my left nipple and the zipper incision scar) as hard as they could. Sharp pain that got worse when I breathed deep, coughed or whatever. I have had a pain or three there, and in my old chest incision as well. I've always figured some of that was some sort of bone pain from the surgery some time ago, because my cardiologist has told me that happens.

This time my head started spinning some, I was hearing buzzing, balance was a problem and I just felt completely out of sorts. My vision was even blurry. I was getting pretty worked up and worried.

It did occur to me that perhaps on top of this new pain, I might be going through a low sugar episode. It checked out at 87, which isn't real high or low, but I've always been able to tell if I'm crashing. I figured if I checked it again in five or ten, it would be a lot lower. I've usually got something sugary around, so I had a little box of raisins.

That usually takes care of things, but not this time. Pain the same, still out of sorts, no improvement. So, I fretted for a while and finally decided to get dressed in case I had to go immediately if not before. I called Road Pig to see if he'd drive me to the hospital in Dodge City. I really wasn't convinced this was worth an ambulance ride. Even with insurance, they're pretty expensive.

But RP was pretty skittish about hauling a potential heart attack to Dodge and having no way to help me if something was seriously wrong and go totally awry. I should go ahead and call the 'bolance.

Of course he was right and that is what I did. My blood sugar was up at 107 on their meter, and as I rode over, my head started clearing. Pain still in my chest.

And just to show you how precise and accurate glucose meters are - the hospital's meter had me at 91 when I rolled in and they checked it. Of course they took an X-ray and some blood plus ran an EKG to compare to one they had on file. No difference in the EKGs, and there was nothing there with either the X-ray or the blood work to indicate a heart attack. So, it was off to a room for overnight observation.

I calmed down considerably, and after all things settled down, and consultation with my cardiologist in Wichita, it was determined that I had not had any sort of heart event. My pain was musculoskeletal, in their opinion. Along with low blood sugar, I'd also probably had a panic attack of sorts.

Originally, I had thought that maybe either I'd popped something and was bleeding internally, filling up my cardiac sac, or maybe it was just too full of fluid. I had taken another diuretic, and it had little effect, so if I had a bunch of extra fluid, the diuretic was failing.

But it was not, there was just nothing there to work on.

When I woke up this morning, I felt a pain under my left scapula, where I hurt when I've got a rib out back there. It was directly below my original point. I've had that sucker out plenty of times, and my chiropractor (The Young Doctor) generally puts it back in. Not an easy task, considering how much like a barrel (plus sized like one) I am. I've got a huge chest.

My main doctor usually doesn't come on until noon a lot of days, so I had to wait today until she got done at the office and came up to the hospital to see me before she'd let me go.

Turns out I've got atrial fibrillation again. I'd had it before, and the ablation/cryo-maze procedure done during the quad bypass was supposed to take care of that. It did for all these years, but now it's back.

The danger is that when the heart beats out of rhythm, the ventricles never really flush clear of blood. Some always remains behind gathering around the valves. This can build up, then a chunk breaks loose, then it's stroke time, baybee.

So the solution is to prescribe Coumadin, which I call rat poison. Sorry, that is what it is - the stuff liquefies the innards of rodents. Too much of it in ol' Jeffro, and his innards become liquefied. If she and my cardiologist decided that was the way to go, I'd still be there so they could find the appropriate dosage and adjust it until they had it right. Then I could come home.

Or we could try a new drug Xarelto. It's gonna be high dollar - don't think there is a generic yet. I will be dropping Clopidogrel, which is the generic for Plavix. I also have to cut back on the daily aspirin - instead of a full one, gotta get a child's version (81gr, I think). She also adjusted some other meds because some levels were a little off whack.

I like her because she is so damned insistent on checking all this stuff and making me do something about it. It gets pretty irritating at times, but she is really on the ball and knows what the hells she's up to. So, I listen, grumble and go on.

Believe me, when she scheduled me for the procedure where no man had gone before (a little over a year ago), I grumbled a lot.

But I really do appreciate her efforts, and I trust her completely.

If you know me personally, you know I rarely encounter a stranger. I enjoyed talking up the nurses and making them laugh, and just cutting up in general. All that aside, I'm damned glad to be home and leave all that to them. I just try to make the experience easier for them and myself while I'm there. I hate to see the demanding prick in action in similar situations, and don't ever wanna be associated with that behavior.

So, the cat is pawing around at my feet wanting some attention. Best get to it.

So Do You Recommend I Join AARP Now?

Which is what I said to my doctor after he gave me some advice. Advice about BMs. So, if you are easily offended by a potty mouth, do not go on. If you aren't, the rest of the story is after the break.

Exactamundo!

Yannow, after all the close encounters with surgeons and doctors over the years, I was kinda in the hopes that maybe the experiences would make me more tolerant of my fellow man and more willing to forbear minor annoyances. You know, to show I was grateful to be alive and all that.

Let's just say that didn't pan out.

It's A Living

Chris Byrne of The Anarchangel has been posting about some of his health problems lately. He's got some sort of imbalance going on, plus he has a tumor in his neck. The health care pros do not want to operate until he loses weight, and one of the symptoms he's dealing with is edema. His weight has been cycling up and down with the excesses of water retention, and he's found that temperature regulation is a bitch as well.

Welp, welcome to the club, dude. Just call me stumpy.

My toes look like little sausages, and that is scar tissue on the shin. About all I've gotta do to bleed is brush against something solid, and then I've got a slow healing wound that leaves a mark. Do that for several years, and you get some seriously unattractive skin. The longitudinal scar is where the heart surgeon harvested some veins for my bypass surgery. And yeah, I think that big toenail has a fungus - I keep forgetting to say something to the doctor.

More of the same. I've gotta wear diabetic socks because the tops of regular socks cut into the swelling and hurt like hell after several hours. Even the diabetic socks leave a mark - these pics were taken in a motel after a couple hours of running barefoot, so the indentations were gone.

What makes my situation irritating for me is that the diuretic (furosemide, or generic Lasix) is supposed to be taken daily, preferably in the morning. This stuff fills the ol' bladder about every ten minutes at first, to every half hour after four to six hours. Which means a lot of peeing. Which means were I to take it driving, I'd be pulling over more than going down the road, plus probably getting ticketed for indecent exposure. Okay, so take it at night. Mmmkay, let's say I get checked in to a motel at seven or eight pm and have to get up at four or five am. Just because I took the pill does not mean it acts immediately if not before - it may be an hour or so before it takes effect. So, now we're looking at four to six hours of visiting Mr. Commode starting at eight or nine pm. Which means no sleep for the fat boy. Tubby trucker kinda likes his seven to eight hours of sleep.

So, I get caught up on weekends. I'll double down for two or three days, and spend most of the time off doing number one. If I want to go somewhere and do anything - it has to be timed with the cleansing ritual, unless I feel like embarrassing myself.

During the week, the water build up makes shoes, socks, and clothing ill fitting. I gotta have a belt on to keep the ol' jeans halfway presentable, but it feels like it and the jeans waistband are cutting me in two by the end of the day. When I bend my knees, I can feel the movement is restricted by the extra fluid. I can lose all the weekend's "work" by Monday night, too - I can be swollen like I'd never done a thing about it all weekend long. My watchband is too tight at it's normal setting. By Friday or Saturday, I'm beat from lugging around the extra poundage.

Chris's frustrations are based on the idea that not a lot of his problems were his fault. Mine? Well, let's just say that being the poster boy for how NOT to live your life put me in this position. Eating what I wanted when I wanted in the quantities I wanted, smoking, exercising only when work required it - welp, a self indulgent lifestyle and my body just didn't mix. So while I'm willing to "piss and moan" as it were, the voice inside my head that says: "It's your own fault, dumbass!" just won't go away. Which is just as well, I'd be delusional if I didn't acknowledge my own responsibility.

Plus, I've certainly gained a large measure of sympathy for all you gals out there. When "Aunt Flo" comes calling and y'all retain water and swell up, let's just say in the words of one of our illustrious former Presidents: "I feel your pain." Just that quote, not the "I didn't have sex with that woman" one.