Unless you were in a cave, you probably heard what happened to me back in April. Wait, no, Dave tried to make sure everyone who was in a cave heard, too, except accurate information on medical issues is not his strongpoint.
First, thank you so much, Andy. I hope you never need that favor returned, but I'll give you what I can if that time ever comes.
So, I managed to survive my care at St. Cloud, even with a scar or two to prove it. Ahhh...if only the saying that "chicks dig scars" really worked. OK, maybe I'm after ladies who wouldn't take it very well if they were called "chicks." That might be the real issue.
The souvenir from that stay, other than the scar, was Sparky. Nasty fellow--remind me never to introduce him to anybody.
I made it back to work in record time. Few people expected that in under two weeks. That probably was a bit rushed and I undoubted could have used a bit more time off, but I was physically feeling great and, more importantly, I could not have handled too much more time at my parents' place. This was a much better reason to move back home. Mentally, I knew things weren't quite normal--not even for me! I still don't think they are, but perhaps they've reached "normal enough."
The Spring Invitational was certainly different. I didn't stay the night, my trip underground was walking passage only, and my clean-up was simply hosing off my boots. It was pleasant, but what sort of trip is that? I hope I don't have any more of those for a while.
New Mexico...thanks, Brian. I really needed that. More camping next time? I'll definitely be up for more hiking. Geocaching was nice and the VLA was an awesome thing for a science geek to see. Note to self: whenever available, use the body scanner. A ten-minute pat-down from an old guy is not something I care to endure again.
It was a rough last day of that vacation, having to stay caffeine-free for 24 hours before a treadmill test. No chocolate...while on vacation?! I made it through, but I ran upstairs afterwards and dove into my supply. :-) That first run in six weeks was incredible. Next time, if there ever is one, I'll have to set the thermostat down first.
The first half of the summer seems to be a blur. It's no help that my planner went missing for about 6 weeks, so my life isn't as well recorded. Basically, it was work, rest, and commute in no particular order. I made it to the Sleepunder (caving event) and was actually underground leading easy trips. The "Squeezinator 2010" made things interesting, and I learned that Sparky had to be moved around certain objects.
July flew by, and my planner was still missing. All I remember well of it was getting the news that my rhythm issue was not catecholaminergic polymorphic ventricular tachycardia. A relief, but perhaps a minor point for someone who views children as optional. Late July, I also moved back into Minneapolis. It was nice to be about two miles from everything instead of forty.
I also got the OK from Katsiyiannis to start running again, although more slowly. It helped me feel normal, although I was gunshy at first. I still get a bit nervous running at my apartment's little gym or in the parking garage; I don't expect anything to happen, but if it does, how long before help arrives?
As I did this, Sparky began to complain...more and more. I was given massage therapy (dangit--no insurance coverage for that one), physical therapy, acupuncture, meditation, and I don't remember what else anymore. Basically, in September, we scheduled a likely eviction day for Sparky.
I successfully ran the TC Ten Mile! However, I now know not to complain about "overheating." The good news is that my issues, combined with the nervousness of my first run, gave the volunteer medical staff a chance to practice with their equipment, particularly the heart monitor, before someone in truly serious shape arrived.
The post-race interrogation of Sparky did not go so well. Was that 37 counts of SVT that day or that month? I can't recall, but it was no small amount. More than a few times, I was one beat away from Sparky attempting to intervene.
October offered one big nicety: I paid off the last of my debts. There's a cool feeling in that.
The pain kept getting worse. Is one supposed to feel so guilty for asking for pain meds? The tramadol wasn't great, but it at least made me able to fall asleep again, without the tears. Anyone working with electrophysiology: please, before a decision to place a device is made, please include in your plans a thought about whether the patient sleeps on his or her side and if there is a marked preference for a particular side. Dominant hand is not the only consideration.
Beginning in November, Jenna and Natalie have been starting to direct me in to see some of our post-cool-it patients. The emphasis is on the ones who are having a tough time coping or realizing what they've gone through. Maybe I can spare someone a bit of a headache and some of the hassle I encountered.
December 17th, 2010...what a rough day. Necessary as hell, but rough. Liz, thank you for all of your support--even putting up with being called "Mrs. Hadley" more than a couple of times. I was so eager to become pain-free that I was giving careful consideration to removing Sparky and leaving it that way. I had more than a little apprehension about starting the whole damned cycle over again.
December 23rd...woke up with a heavy, slightly numb arm. Night charge RN recommended lorazepam. After an ultrasound, Roxanne prescribed warfarin. No quick fixes for this issue.
Seeing things from a patient side as well as I have has me giving serious thoughts about staying in healthcare as a career. I simply don't have the passion for it I once did. Having to read up as much on the process and meds encountered as a cool-it patient makes me nervous, too, since I pose questions that few people have bothered to research--the sample size just isn't there at any one facility.
So, I'm looking at some options to see how my career will play out. Even better if I can incorporate some international travel with this, but we'll see.
Four weeks after the last surgery, my new device side is looking and feeling great. Like the other side, it's clearly going to be a keloid scar. However, it's a much finer one than the first one ever was, so I'm hopeful. The old site still aches a bit, but I'm finally not taking any medications specifically for pain. The scabs are finally coming off, although that means oozing and seeping because of the warfarin. I'm quite hesitant to go into isolation rooms until that stops longer-term.
Nobody gave any serious suggestions for naming my new device. After the negative experiences with Sparky, I hope to keep that name retired. I finally figure out a name for this one, although one who hasn't read an old physics or chemistry textbook might not get it. Like the local musician, this one can use a symbol for its name--an upside-down omega. The name I used was made obsolete for its purpose in 1971, but I still like it. Impedence is measured in ohms, and conductance is the reciprocal of impedence. Until the Siemans was named as its SI measure, many people simply reversed the letters for impedence. Thus, conductance units are "mhos." Now "Mho" (since my computer cannot readily do an upside-down omega) is stuck going everywhere with me. I'm hoping I can take him far.
I'll try to be optimistic and refrain from noting more than brief medical updates from here on out. Last year was simply an exceptional year, and one I hope never to repeat. Since my life seems to balance out the good and the bad, I must be overdue for something great. Perhaps I'll luck out and meet the love of my life...but I think I'll focus on enjoying whatever next comes my way.
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