Gratitude Monday --Another Good Day

I woke up not dead.

I looked out the window. No bears.

The rest is gravy.

Gratitude Monday - Out For A Bit

Crossing Kootenay Lake

This Monday I am grateful for many things. Most are to do with my upcoming trip to Cuba.
We almost went to Cuba two years ago, but I had heart trouble instead. When we learned last month that my heart works normally we decided to try for Cuba again.
Not only am I grateful for the second shot at it, the tour we've got this time is even better than the one we had two years ago. We're off for two weeks rather than the one week trip we'd booked originally.
We go to more places and see more of the land and the wildlife. There are hikes to do. If I can't do them, then I can ride in the support vehicle.
We're off a week from today in the stupidearly hours of the morn, but it gets us to Cuba (via Toronto) by early afternoon.
I will spend this week packing and repacking, selecting something to take and then changing my mind, remembering something I need, discarding others items I know I can do without. I'm grateful for that, too, as it means I have clothing to choose from.
I could go on, but you get the idea. I am grateful for the vacation and for every aspect of it.
We're not there yet, and I don't wish to deal in absolutes as I know the Universe has a wacky sense of humour about these things, so I'll just say that we have a trip to Cuba planned and I am grateful.

Gratitude Monday - Back On Track

I am happy, and grateful, to report that last Thursday's cardioversion worked.
Normal sinus rhythm was established at the second application of shock.
I am also darned grateful that my heart is back to its normal size and the condition I had has fully reversed.
You are never getting rid of me.

A Midnight Visitor

Midnight
The doctor is knocking
He’s asking me questions
What’s he talking about?
(To the tune of Memory, from Cats. Forgive me Andrew Lloyd Webber, Trevor Nunn, T.S. Eliot, and humanity in general.)

I settled into my private room in the University of Alberta Hospital cardiac unit late in the afternoon of December 18. It was an inside room with a large window to the atrium and a clear view to the skylight and the outside world.
I’m not usually fussy or demanding, but I let it be known before I was even in my bed that I had to be fed. The phrase “borderline low blood sugar” is magic.
My nurse, Natasha, was very persuasive with the kitchen and I was soon enjoying a chicken breast. And I mean it. I looked down at my tray and there, nestled innocently beside the cutlery, was a small packet of contraband.
“Hey this the cardiac uni-”
Wait what am I doing? I haven’t seen salt in days.
Salt on my food and no cardiac monitor. My nurse told me where the patients’ kitchen was and encouraged me to walk around.
Around 10 p.m. I was told my medications hadn’t been sorted out yet as there’d been several admissions to the unit that day.
Salt. Freedom. No meds. My own room. I was fine with all that. They weren’t concerned about medication for me. I took it as a good sign.

As the clock joined hands for midnight Dr. Nasser Al-Hajieri knocked on my door.
He was well over 6’ tall, 30-ish, and had a thicket of wild, windswept black hair that teased around the base of his neck and framed his deep, brown eyes. He was a resident in Internal Medicine and he exuded quiet compassion and thoughtful intelligence.
Dr. Al-Hajieri sat on my bed and asked me few questions that I was mostly awake enough to answer.
“You are British? I think I detect a British accent.”
“Umm, no. I’m not,” I said.
“Oh, I am sorry.”
He discussed my heart problem and said something about low voltage.
“So, it’s an electrical problem.” It was a half-question, half-statement.
“Yes,” he agreed. “It’s an electrical problem.”

My eyes returned to his hands many times over our 20 minute conversation. His fingers were long and tapered and remarkably clean. Yes, I know that’s an odd thing to say. He’s a doctor. Of course his hands are clean. It could have been the way the light stuck them, I suppose, but it compelled me to keep looking. His nails were well-manicured, rather long for a man, and smoothed to a blunted point.

He got up to leave, hesitated a moment, and then said, “I see by your file you don’t have any children. Can I ask you why you didn’t have any children?”

So I answered his question and he left. I assumed I’d see him around the unit. I was there six days. I never saw him again.

TGLP Gratitude Monday – I’ve Got Rhythm Edition

It’s the final Monday of 2007 and I’m pleased to report that it is not my final Monday. My heart is now ticking in proper rhythm after having an irregular beat for quite some time.

I didn’t know it was zipping along with an extra tick, a kind of grace note of the heart if you will. The top chambers of my heart weren’t working at all while the bottom chambers were skittering along like a mad hamster on a loose wheel. This led to fluid in my lungs.

I’m grateful this was found and treated successfully.

Over the years I’ve heard many a patient complain about being poked and prodded and injected and bled. Complaining is the height of ingratitude. If you didn’t want your life saved, then why did you seek treatment?

I spent 10 days in three different hospitals. At least half a dozen doctors and more nurses than I could count put their skills, training, and experience into saving my life and making me healthy again. I am grateful for their diligence.

And to all my blog buddies: thank you so much for your well wishes, kind words, good vibes and virtual chocolate.
It was heartening (the pun’s unavoidable) to hear your concern for me.

I’ll be writing in great and glorious and maybe even gory detail about my experiences in future posts. I even have photos.

For now, I’m just happy to be here.