Category Archives: Health Issues

The Doctor Visit & The Pool

14 Thursday Jul 2016

Posted by in Health Issues, Sport

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Monday, I had an appointment with my internist, whom I had not seen since my pre-surgery physical last September. I am feeling pretty good but certain things need to be looked at. Twinkle The Nurse checked my weight, 204 pounds (92.5 kg/ 14 stone 8 lb), down from 222 lbs (100.69 kg / 15 stone 12 pound). Then the blood pressure 120/80. Perfecto. September’s was 152/90. So I’m starting the visit with two big wins. Next, the doctor comes in. He is old enough to be my son, so I already feel old. He checks my heart. It is there and it beats the way it’s supposed to. When I ask about a digital prostate exam, he tells me that unless I’m showing any symptoms of prostate enlargement or the PSA (Prostate Specific Antigen) enzyme is elevated as shown by the blood test, they don’t bother with a digital exam, unless I request it. After my surgeries, a finger in my rectum is not a big deal, but I would just as soon not have a digital exam, even though I wore clean underwear that day. I get a referral for a gastroenterologist to do an endoscopy since it’s been ten years since the last one of those. I go to the lab collection area to get the blood drawn. The doctor visit is over. The next day, Twinkle The Nurse calls to tell me all is well on the lab values, PSA is normal and the prediabetic condition of September’s visit has disappeared.

I celebrate the successful doctor visit by sleeping three hours when I get home.I have a counseling session that afternoon. I began some counseling (psychotherapy) after some unresolved issues came up after my brother’s death in December, 2014. The therapist and I worked through those issues in the next eighteen or so months. Another win. I celebrate this visit with lunch at Silver Diner, a nice restaurant, based out of the Washington, DC area. I get the mango vegetarian stir-fry. and am happy with the choice. it has edamame mixed in with the bits of fresh mango and is served over quinoa pasta.

Now, the pool. Although I’ve been swimming regularly for almost 42 years, I still get antsy before almost every visit to the pool. I don’t know why, but I do. I get to the Y, start the swim and all is well after I finish the first 50 meters. I set a goal to swim five days in a row, swimming 2050 meters each day. I have a little trepidation because of my rotator cuff repair as well as the fusion. Climbing into the pool is a big deal. The fusion doesn’t allow me to gracefully slip into the water at the shallow end. I now have to use a ladder. but that’s no big deal. The flip turn, on the other hand, is now a thing of the past, unless I miraculously get some flexibility back as my recovery progresses. Yesterday I finished the five day consecutive swims goal I set last Saturday. The feeling of meeting a goal like that is unbeatable. I was contemplating a swim today, but I know I need a rest day.

Yes. I am happy and satisfied.

 

Slow Forward Twenty-Two Years

12 Tuesday Jul 2016

Posted by in Health Issues, memoir, Sobriety

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I remember the evening of 9 July 1994 quite vividly. It was hot, as it tends to be in Virginia in high summer. I had just finished mowing the lawn and was thirsty, hankering for a cold beer. In the fridge was a can of Pabst Blue Ribbon, just waiting for its top to be popped. I did not know it then, but that was the last drink I ever had. My long battle with alcohol ended with that can of PBR.

The next day, a Sunday, was a family visit day at Father Martin’s Ashley, where my then wife was in alcoholism rehabilitation herself. I remember she thanked me for the intervention that put her there.  Our marriage, though, was over, as the next few months played out. Being a drinking buddy was not to be the basis of a lasting relationship.

My then-wife became the ex-wife. We communicated while our son was growing up. We both took an interest in his school activities, like F.I.R.S.T. Robotics.  Then as that link was broken, we stopped communicating.  On 3 November 2015, she died of lung cancer at age 66. (Yes, she was a smoker.)  Had she not concealed her terminal illness from me, I guess her loss might have been easier. She didn’t. As my elder son said later, “There is no closure.”  I can’t think of my drinking days and my early sobriety without thinking of her.

My sobriety continues through job losses, that divorce, my current lasting and loving marriage of fifteen years. I have lost family to death, including my parents and older brother.  I became Catholic, with the attendant marriage annulments as part of that journey.  Now retirement . My sobriety, like my life, has a new beginning with each new day. It is by no means all “puppies, rainbows, and balloons”, but it is a life worth living.  I am truly grateful to be here.

The Injury

09 Saturday Jul 2016

Posted by in cooking, food, Health Issues

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Yesterday  Dorothy and I went to the Y a little early because there was a demonstration class for a program called M.E.L.T. that I was curious about. M.E.L.T. is an exercise program designed to stimulate the production of the fluids that keep our joints lubricated. It sounds very valid, but won’t work for me, because the fusion makes my getting on the floor and getting up again really difficult. So after saying  “No thanks. This won’t work for me” to the leader, I left to sit out in the area where the Senior Citizens hang out.

The Wimbledon Quarterfinals were on. A lady was showing another lady (probably a centenarian) how a numerical puzzle similar to a Sudoku worked. It was a typical “hanging with the Seniors” morning.

A staff member approaches me.

“Are you David?”

“Yes”.

“Dorothy fell off a treadmill. She is OK. She is getting first aid right now”. I go back and see the lifeguard from the pool who is a Fire Fighter/ EMT in his real job attending to her.  She is on the floor, at the back of the treadmill with blood coming from a nasty laceration at her kneecap.

“We called an ambulance”. Moments later, the EMT’s and  Fire Fighters from the station down the street are there. They continue what the lifeguard started, put her on a stretcher and take her off to the hospital about two miles away.

Once at the ER, after assessing the severity of the injury, the waiting begins.  First she goes to X-ray, then she’s back. Dorothy is lucid, cheerful, and talkative. We chat for a while. I tell her I will take care of dinner that night. We wait and  wait. There is a little  excitement when an elderly gentleman who is shouting about pain or something is transported on a stretcher to another facility. His son, about my age, balding, with a Larry Fine hairstyle, wearing pale pink tennis shorts and a pale pink polo shirt, comforts and reassures his father that all is well as they leave. The son’s pink Hello Kitty backpack is the last thing I notice of the two. (“That’s odd”, meaning the backpack, is my mental note.)

We wait some more. Another elderly lady, age 83, is waiting at the nurses station on her stretcher until a room opens up. She too is lucid and a little embarrassed  to be causing “all this fuss”.

Dorothy needs to go to the Ladies Room and  Nora, the RN working with her, takes her. When  Dorothy returns, we talk about The Thin Man, prompted by the name Nora,  Nora Charles being the name of Myrna Loy’s character. We both agree about what a good movie it was and both of us concur that Asta was a really cute dog.

Finally, Simon, the PA, comes in. He is handsome, about six feet tall, Latino, with a neatly trimmed black beard and black horn-rimmed glasses. (They were the style made famous by Barry Goldwater, half a century ago.) On Simon’s left ring finger is a black wedding band. Interesting.

He lets us know the knee cap is not broken and goes to get the cart containing all the wound-stitching paraphernalia,  sutures, needles,  Betadine, saline solution, draping cloths, bandages, other dressings.  He returns and gets to work, first numbing the wound area with Xylocaine.  The suturing is somewhat painful and I hold Dorothy’s hand. It takes about an hour to close a gaping wound with fifteen stitches. Simon tells us that she needs an immobilizer for her knee and that Nora will bring it in when she returns with the discharge instructions and a prescription for Lortab.  Dorothy is calm, relieved it’s over,  and we wait some more for Nora to return with a wheelchair for transport and the aforementioned stuff.

Getting outside, I discover that at 3 PM, it is sweltering. I pull the car  up to the exit.  A burly male nurse gets her from wheelchair to car  and we head to her house.  The big challenge is getting her out of the car, a full-size 1998 Mercury Grand Marquis LS (Dad’s old car), without banging her leg around too much.  We get her out and into the house.

At this point, she calls her son Harvey, recounting the story, assuring him that she’s OK, and asks him to arrange for a home aide to be with her while she is temporarily incapacitated.  At this point I leave to go home, eat some lunch, fetch my phone charger, and  get the salmon, tomatoes and cantaloupe I had been planning to fix for J’s and my dinner.  The fresh basil, balsamic dressing and Gorgonzola crumbles are also packed.

I return. The house, being the house of a 90 year old, could double as a sauna. I turn on the air conditioning. The home care coordinator comes, as does Harvey. They map out a plan for care for the next few days, while I rest a bit. The home care person is very reassuring and Harvey, Dorothy and I are pleased with what she suggests.

Harvey and Home Care Lady leave. I start dinner, hunting for what I need in a strange kitchen. There is some dried tarragon to season the salmon. I find a grill pan in the oven. I  figure out how a strange oven works. Solid state electronic controls mean that turning a simple, mechanical knob to the right setting in a simple, familiar manner is out of the question. It is a Bosch oven, very nice, all in all, with a convection feature. In about a half hour, the fish is ready. The tomato is sliced, garnished with fresh basil, drizzled with balsamic vinaigrette dressing with the Gorgonzola crumbles completing the presentation.

Dorothy loves her dinner. The tomato is a local tomato, from Hanover County, northeast of town.  These are the prized tomatoes of the Richmond area, unquestionably delicious. The tomato is as tasty as its reputation promised it would be.

Dorothy has found a walker (my late Aunt Midge’s). It expedites getting out of her chair, where she sits with leg elevated per the discharge instructions. She uses the bathroom  while I prep the cantaloupe. It too is delicious.  A rainy May has meant some fine produce this year.

Comfortable, confident she can get along on her own for the night, Dorothy sends me home.  Around 8:45, I arrive home, recount the day’s events to J and prepare her a plate of grilled salmon and fresh tomatoes from the leftovers I brought.  I sit for a while, then strip out of my sweaty clothes, and take the nicest shower I have had in a long time.The patchouli-scented soap is a real pleasure. I decide to sleep nude, luxuriating in the clean feeling and before I know it, I am asleep.

A day well spent. A job happily done.

Milestone

01 Friday Jul 2016

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My orthopedic surgeon cleared me to swim at my recent office visit, June 20. I had been taking my return  gradually, swimming laps after my one hour session of treading water. Today,  I decided to swim before I did the treading. I thought swimming the same distance I swam Tuesday , 650 meters, would be a good continuation.  When 650 meters passed, I said 850 meters would be a good stopping point, then after 850 m, I told myself 1000 m, then after 1000 m, 1250,  after 1250 m a mile. So at 1650 meters, (what I use for a mile) I stopped. I felt good. My back muscles were a little sore, no worse than after physical therapy, but I did it! My level of cardiovascular fitness is good. The walking and the treading water have maintained my “cardio” fitness, so the transition to swimming was easier than I thought.  This was the first mile swim I have completed since I tore my rotator cuff in December of 2014.  This is a big personal victory for me.

Herein lies the irony. If I can swim that far, how come toting  Dorothy’s kitty was so hard for me yesterday? Holding  that weight is different from moving through the water, most decidedly.

This brings up one of my passionate issues.  I believe older people (I consider myself an older person) should get active and stay active. Too often I have seen the quality of life for seniors decline when they reduce their physical activity.  My experience shows that we can come back after injuries as younger people can. We may have to change our exercise preferences, but it can be done.  If  you aren’t yet “old” and read my blog, get active.

And quit smoking!

Please.

Random Update

30 Thursday Jun 2016

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Here I am, sitting at the keyboard, having just set up a doctor’s appointment for a prostate exam. I’m at the age where a prostate exam is a life saver, and a digital rectal exam is a small price to pay.  We shall see what’s in store. The primary care physician will also set up the referral for an endoscopy, since it’s been 10 years since my last one of those. Somebody said people retire so they can go to their doctors and the funerals of their friends.

Moving along, I have been active in the pool all week. I enjoy the water for exercise more than walking or running, especially in the summer when the temperatures hit the 90’s. Usually the pool is the only option unless I want to exercise shortly after dawn.

 

Those Numbers On Your Drivers License Are Your Age

25 Saturday Jun 2016

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I guess I’m supposed to feel old, however old feels, today.  My elder son celebrated his fortieth birthday. Since I was 25 on the day he was born, that means I am 65.  65 just doesn’t compute. Sure I hurt physically; back pain, some pain in my shoulder, but I hurt physically when I was 34 and 63. The fine print seems to be finer and a  bright light when reading is my friend.

This hasn’t been a day about feeling old. I went to Weight Watchers and learned I lost 5.4 pounds (2.49 kg) since last week. I started out earlier in June weighing 213 lbs (15 stones 3 lbs, 96.6 kg). I am following their program, not doing my “version” of it. Their program  is working for me. Now I am at 206.8 lbs, (14 stone 11 lb,  or 93.8 kg). I went for my 4 mile power walk and I felt drained afterwards, but feel great now.

So life is good. As the saying goes, life isn’t about having what I want but wanting I have.

Dramas Managed-An Update.

30 Wednesday Mar 2016

Posted by in Big Business, Health Issues

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Last week’s little sagas continue.  They are like a miniseries or those old “cliff-hanger” serials from the movies, where our hero(oine) is rescued from one near-catastrophe at the start of an episode, only to be ensnared in another by that episode’s end.

As our story left off, Mrs Celibateorchaste? was on her way to the dentist and physician to see what the deal was with the lump on the side of her neck. The dentist ruled out a tooth issue, but suggested that, by the way this lump swells when eating, a salivary gland below the jaw has a stone blocking the duct.

Who knew salivary glands can develop stones? Apparently, NOT  medical doctors. Next came the visit to the medical doctor, who had no idea what the situation was, but if the dentist said it was a salivary gland stone, that sounded pretty good to him. He then referred her to the Ear Nose and Throat specialist. That appointment was yesterday and Dr Salivary Gland Specialist was NOT THERE!  Dr Everything But Salivary Glands did think it was a stone, scheduled a follow up with Dr Salivary Gland Specialist and a CT scan three weeks into the future.  Meanwhile, back at the neck, the lump seems to be shrinking. I suspect these stones pass through the duct, just as kidney stones pass, though much less painfully.  Good news is, most likely, no cancer, and not a big deal. Whew! Another bullet dodged.

In the world of insurance, the hospitalization/medical carrier was presented with an appeal of their claim denial, for the hospital charges related to the wisdom tooth extractions. Not only did the oral surgeon’s patient notes  clearly show the medical necessity of an outpatient hospital procedure under genral anaesthesia, but they also showed where his office called the medical insurance carrier and the peon who answered the call said no pre-certification was needed!  So Big Heartless/Mindless Insurance Company said one thing and acted in the exact opposite manner when the time came to fork over the dough.  Those of you who are surprised at this turn of events can gather inside the telephone booth in the lobby.

Insurance Drama  #2, the Long Term Disability Claim Still Unpaid, has the claim still unpaid, but they are going to check with my employer and I should see my money in a week.  Thank Heaven! I was getting worried that I would not be able to go yachting with the Vanderbilts and Astors in Newport this Summer.

Finally Asperger’s Bonehead #2 Son contacted me on Easter Sunday with this text message, “Happy Easter“.

Life does go on, like it or not.

Drama Management

24 Thursday Mar 2016

Posted by in Big Business, Health Issues

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My hunch is that we all go through  the same things. I don’t care how you label yourself. You Tough Guys/Bitches can hide behind your personas  for only so long before you break down too.  Our loved ones are our loved ones and we care. Big insensitive and indifferent corporate bureaucracies will always procrastinate in their favor.

Right now, I’m working on one biggie, two medium-sized and and one small nagging chronic dramas.  First, my wife has a hard knot on the right side of her neck, where fluid accumulates when she chews and swallows. I don’t know what the Hell it is but I don’t like it.

“Do you think it’s cancer?” she asked me, as if I were an oncologist. The little voice in the back of my head is saying, “I wouldn’t rule it out”, but I can’t say that. She sees a dentist this afternoon and a doctor tomorrow morning. The dentist can rule out a tooth issue. The doctor can maybe do a needle biopsy and get an answer, but I think he’s going to order a CT scan, which means more worrying. I lost a dear cousin to head and neck cancer four years ago. We shall see.

Dramas #2 and #3 involve those perennial nemeses, insurance companies. We have the health/medical insurer who is denying a claim, pending I show medical necessity for  wisdom tooth extractions done under general anesthesia in a hospital OR.   My oral surgeon, highly respected by his peers, deemed it necessary and I have his notes. I’m waiting for the policy exclusion clause from my dental insurance policy, a group plan to be furnished by my employer, since I don’t have a copy of the policy. Once I get the documentation, the appeal should work in my favor.  It just means the insurance carrier can hold on to the money a little longer, collect interest on the reserve and leave the hospital and anesthesiologist standing there with open palms, as if they have no expenses to pay of their own.

Drama #3 involves the long term disability carrier who hasn’t paid on my disability claim since it began in November. I had been unable to work for the last six months previous to back surgery because I had a rotator cuff repair and my back pain, necessitating the surgery made work impossible.  I can’t work now because I had a spinal fusion the week before Thanksgiving. This procedure has a high probability of failure if it doesn’t heal properly and completely, so I am not rushing back to work where any bend, lift or twist could send me back to where I was before the surgery took place.  Pretending to be a fabulously wealthy billionaire who can live off his investments is fun, but I live in the Real World in Anytown, USA.  I complained to the Bureau of Insurance yesterday and the insurance carrier promised they would deal with my claim today. We shall see.

Drama #4 is the continuing saga of Number Two Son, an Asperger’s syndrome patient, who hasn’t quite figured out that his father wants to know that he is safe, healthy and relatively happy. This would require a regular phone call or text, letting me know where he is and that he’s doing OK.  The Prophet Elijah could fly across the heavens in a chariot of fire before he calls.  So Easter is coming up, a family time and word from him would be nice.

I’m praying my wife’s neck knot is no biggie, the insurance companies will pay their respective claims and my son will call or text or visit.

Stay tuned.