Archives for posts with tag: update

What can I say anymore? It has been confirmed that I am indeed, the weird kid. This really didn’t come as a shock to me and I would assume didn’t come as a shock to anyone that knows me either. However, in a life full of uncertainty it was a genuine surprise to receive confirmation of…well….anything really. Feel left out? Prepare to have speed increased so you are caught up.

Part of my new life includes nearly weekly blood test. Levels in my metabolic panel change so frequently and my doctors all give a damn that they monitor the hell out of me. I pretend sometimes to be upset by this, but I occasionally enjoy being taken care of. I always turn into a little boy when I am sick that just wants his mom to make him soup and tell him everything will be ok. Well I have been sick for almost a year now, so the attention waxes and wanes from beautiful to annoying. I realise this is my own brain making these determinations, so I will return to the story.

Today I had a blood test to check my kidney function and potassium levels. For some funny reason, potassium and I do not get along. It’s pretty funny because my gangy always used to talk about bananas and potassium. So I assumed I was one of the only kids my age that was watching for that. Side note to that side note, I can only spell bananas by singing the Gwen Stefani song. I get lost in the “na”s so I sing it. jnan found that funny as do I.

Back to the blood…

For as long as I have been getting these tests, I have wanted to ask for a vial of my own blood. Why? Why not? I sit in a chair and am poked until I bleed. What’s my compensation (besides of course the reassurance that I am getting healthy…but that’s neither here nor there)? As I am pricked I stare at this clear plastic cubby full of different coloured tubes. Each tube coded for what test it is with a different additive. Medical science is very fascinating. Today, with my newly discovered courage, I asked the adorable phlebotomist my question. I thought it was reasonable, but I got the strangest look ever. Before she could answer, because I felt a huge “no” coming on, I countered with, “What, will you get in trouble?”
“I don’t think so” she replied, still trying to gauge if I was just screwing with her, “no one has asked before. I don’t see why not, it is your blood”.

With two tubes in her hand she says she will give me the first one. Confused I asked if she didn’t need it. I learned that when running a metabolic panel they need to remove all air from the line so as not to taint the sample. She was just going to throw away my blood. My blood. She reattached the first vial to fill it a little more and gave it to me. It has no additive since it is used only to clear the line. Now I sit here with a 3.0 ml vial of blood filled halfway. To everyone that has heard me recount this story, it has been met with the same facial response as the phlebotomists. I am ok with being weird. I am the kid with a vial of his own blood on his nightstand. What do you think Stephen King has on his nightstand? Think about it. Thanks for stopping by.

love,
adn

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Just wanted to take a quick moment and update the blog. My laundry is going and I am reading. Moving forward is hard. Moving forward is even harder when you have been doing something a specific way for 25 years. One would think that after 25 years of disappointment, regret, and failure, moving onward and upwards would be easy. Thing is, it’s not. What is easy is to fall into the same old shit you were in before. It is so much easier to do wrong and to fail. Why is this? Because failure will never let you down. Failure will always be waiting for you, whereas you have to work for and earn success. I need to evacuate all parts of me that prefer the easy way. Evacuate all parts of my life that expect and thrive on my failure. Time to catalogue those items and begin systematically deleting them. Thanks for stopping by.

love,
adn

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Here is the second part of my health story and update. After 2 visits with Dr. Miller he referred me to the Heart Failure Team at IMC. Ok, to be fully honest, he told me to do it after the first visit, but I have always been stubborn about “responsibilities” “health” and “doctors”. So I contact them and setup an appointment. At that visit they saw how bad the stomach fluid was and that it was actually trying to get out via the pores. So they decided they needed to admit me stat (stat means now) to get me on stronger doses of diuretics and add antibiotics to treat and beat an infection in my stomach. I went to the restroom while they were getting a room ready and something funny-ish happened. I fell. I fell head first into the damn wall and couldn’t get up for 10 minutes. I wanted to cry. I became helpless. I was one of the old women in the LifeAlert commercials. Help, I’ve fallen and I can’t get up! I almost pulled on the dangling red emergency cord. I was honestly at the end of a rope.

I managed to pull myself up and go back to the exam room. I told the doctor this and they got very worried. When you are a heart patient everything seems to be taken much more seriously. I am glad that it was, but if you know me, you know I am a joker. A total smart ass. This came through all of my visits and eventually the staff has gotten used to it.

One of the things I hated about the first hospital visits was the blood draws. They always had such a hard time finding veins and the room was freezing cold. For best locating, you should warm the hands / arms so they will be more visible. I got poked probably 100 times. That was at the American Fork IMC. The people were all nice and helpful, but being stuck so much was awful. So at IMC in Murray, where the heart team is located, they decided to put in a PICC line.

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What a great idea! No hassles for “deposits” or “withdrawals” at all! It sounded painful but I loved it.

My first night nurse was one of the most caring an inspirational people I have ever met. She is my age and when she came in was shocked to see a heart patient her age. In this part of IMC it’s an entire building for lung and heart issues and my floor was all heart patients. She was pregnant and close to due date. On the 3rd or 4th day we talked about all the weight I was losing. She was very impressed and I love impressing pretty girls. So I was open and very talkative with her. She told me she used to be very heavy too because of poor diet and no physical activity. This portion of the discussion came up because I had her get me a small cup of Dr. Pepper (the drink…I don’t see a Dr. Pepper for my heart). She said that was one of her weaknesses and she was drinking many liters of it a day. We connected on so many levels. Like me, she got sick of feeling crappy all the time and she made changes. Lost the weight and ran a marathon! Now, I am not there yet, but I have registered with the American Heart Association and will be working to help in their next run / walk / jog / limp.

I have been blessed with great family, friends, health professionals, and modern medicine / technology.

As the days go on I will keep you all abreast of any developments with my heart failure and my life in general. Thanks for reading and stopping by.

love,
adn