Tuesday, April 5, 2011

I Guess I'm Gonna Have to be Patient

Something I am not known for is Patience.

Jack Riepe told me I needed to read something funny. I may have been sounding out of sorts on my blog recently. He suggested a couple of authors, and wouldn't you know it, one of those authors was himself. :)

The other recommended author was Lewis Grizzard, who I remembered from a number of years ago as being pretty funny. So I broke out the Barnes and Noble E reader, connected to the internet and searched for the authors Jack recommended. Jack Riepe didn't turn up on the search, at least not in the form of an e-reader book even though he has a book that you can purchase at his blog site, "Twisted Roads". There was also only one book by Lewis Grizzard in e-reader format. It was called "They Tore Out My Heart and Stomped That Sucker Flat". With a name like that I couldn't resist, even though at the time I had no idea what the book was about. I ordered it, downloaded it to the reader and started reading immediately. Turns out the book was about the author having had heart surgery about 25 years ago.

At first I was not sure I wanted to read about someone else's heart problem because I had just had some of that myself, thank you very much, and really didn't care to hear more about the subject. But as I read on I began to enjoy the author's lighthearted(pun?) poking of fun at all things medical in nature such as doctors, hospitals, nurses, ex-wives, beer and whatever else seemed to come into his mind, and the book turned out to be lots of fun.

When he was released from the hospital Lewis says the doctor told him not to have sex for 2 weeks and not to drive a car for 6 weeks, or was it the other way around. So, in the end he promised not to have sex while driving for 6 weeks and let it go at that. :)

And hence we get around to the purpose of this little blog post. Me, Driving, or the lack thereof as it turns out.
The last time I drove a car was on the morning of January 21st. I remember that day very well. At about 9:15 that morning I experienced a very classic myocardial infarction. I have not driven Max at least since then plus a few days, and I am not sure exactly when that was. Now my wife in particular and my kids have been very understanding and kind and provided me with transportation when needed. Their generousity has been wonderful. But let me tell you, there is a significant feeling of not being in control of my destiny, and a certain kind of feeling of dependency that exists now because the doctors have suggested that it is not a good idea to allow me to operate a motor vehicle of any kind.

For the first few weeks after it happened, I certainly didn't have any desire to drive. I didn't feel good and was very sore. I didn't do a lot except sleep, read and eat. My chest was very bruised and sore, primarily because two weeks after the original heart attack, I had passed out and they had to perform CPR on me and use those little electric paddles to revive me. I don't recommend going out and having CPR done on yourself just for fun. If done properly, it can result in bruises and sore ribs for many weeks. The idea of CPR is to get your chest to pump oxygenated blood through your body. It works a lot better with the cooperation of your lungs and heart as opposed to an outside force on your body doing the same function for you. It is an aggressive procedure. My wife really got to beat on me for a few moments there, and it was all legal. I can't sue her, according to my attorney. She gets a little twinkle in her eye when she tells people about this.

This little event of passing out and having to be revived actually occurred twice to me. The doctors seemingly don't even have a good name for what it is called when this type of thing happens other than to maybe call it a "sudden death event". In essence my heart went into what they call a fibrillation, a sort of fluttering, if you will, and no good oxygenated blood gets around to the other parts of your body, such as the brain, kidneys, etc. Death can occur in a matter of just a few minutes. Only about 25% of the people that this happens to actually survive it. I feel very lucky.

In essence I was "mostly dead" for a little while there. This has even become a little joke amongst the family around the house. I plan to use this often as an excuse in the future when I might screw up or forget something.

"I'm sorry, I was mostly dead that day!" I wonder how long I can get away with that. (Probably not long) .

Last Wednesday I had a visit with my cardiologist, who, besides the fact that he is leery about letting me drive, is an excellent person and one of the most knowledgable and renowned doctors in the known universe. I am living proof when you get right down to it. They did a sonogram and one of those treadmill tests and the purpose was to see how I was coming along and see how my heart was recovering.

I friggin' Nailed It! Okay, maybe I am not the finest physical specimen ever to walk the face of the earth, but considering what I looked like about 7 weeks ago..........

So, in my mind, we're talking with the doctor afterwards, and I'm thinking, "Where's the Keys?" and "I'm ready to Go!" and "It's been almost 2 months"

Then the doctor said no.

He was nice. He was friendly. He was Polite. He was Firm!

No!

I explained that my blogger friends expect me to come back soon and regale them with tales of my wonderful life on my Taiwanese scooter. He smiled at me and said: Your blogger friends will just have to be patient. You'll have to be patient , too.

Hmmmm.... My first thoughts were about how unfair this was. So I did what a lot of people would do, when confronted thusly, ..... I Googled It!

Damn it, but if there isn't some very good reasons for restricting my driving based upon my own particular circumstances. Just lucky I guess. It's not the physical problems anymore. I feel pretty good although fatigue is still an issue for me. The soreness is gone from my chest. I am very sure I can steer the car and the handlebars on Max without any problems.The problem, statistically (how I sometimes hate that word), is those two little "sudden death" events I had. There is some possibility, (remote) that they just might recur and if I am behind the wheel of a car or on the scooter, then bad things are likely to occur. Insurance companies and trial attorneys hate crap like that. Some recommendations for restrictions on driving might last up to a year for some people. I doubt it will be that long for me, but for now the doctors aren't committing themselves.

So patience I must have. Maybe I should be mad. I'm certinly a little disappointed. But then again, they have some very good reasons. You blog readers may have to be patient, too. Is that possible?

10 comments:

  1. In order to endure and overcome impatience, one has to be alive and feeling strong to not like waiting.

    Your time astride your steed will come soon enough Sir.

    Dom
    The definition of impatience

    ReplyDelete
  2. Oh well, I don't have a non-cage conveyance that would make the trip over your way so we could going riding anyway. Lets hope your driving and riding long before I'm capable of showing up on your doorstop.

    But, just in case you're not . . . are you allowed to barbecue?

    :)
    ~Keith

    ReplyDelete
  3. That’s tough, but I am sure the lack of driving / riding is just a small penalty to pay compared to the fact that you are still here. I hope it’s not too long before you can get behind the bars or steering wheel, but I am sure your blog readers will be able to last a tad longer for your tales of the road to return, content with knowing you are safe and well. Take care my friend, take care.

    PS – make the most of the new family-run Wichita taxi service!

    ReplyDelete
  4. Dom,
    LOL!! If you are the definition of patience (not), then can I be the second definition of impatience? Actually with a few of the episodes you have had with that Ural and the cycle in Texas, I'd have to say you have the patience of a saint.
    And, you are right, I will ride again soon.
    Take Care,
    Jim

    ReplyDelete
  5. Keith,
    No restriction from barbecue was spoken, therefore it must be allowed. Actually thought about roasting a chicken the other day. And brisket and ribs may be less on the grill than before, but we really didn't do that stuff very often anyway. Chicken and fish is great from the smoker and a lot healthier.
    You know, Wichita and St Louis aren't really a planet apart. Maybe we should try and meet up sometime, but not in Branson, LOL.

    Jim

    ReplyDelete
  6. Gary,
    The taxi service is amazing and I am a little spoiled, but I know they are getting a bit tired of it as well.
    Luckily, the public bus service is convenient for me and I have used it quite a bit recently. That way I don't have to wait for the wife to get ready all the time, and she is forever on her own schedule, LOL. (Just kiddin' Jayna)
    And I am very glad to still be around to bother people (and lucky, and I know it).

    Thanks to all for being such great friends.

    Jim

    ReplyDelete
  7. Jimbo, part time cpa3484.9999:

    As Gary noted above, this temporary restriction is much better than the alternative. You're on the Green side. Hopefully before the summer ends you will be back on Max again and not be so dependant on others.

    in the meantime sit on your couch, grab the remote, snap your fingers a lot and feel like a KING. You deserve it

    bob
    Riding the Wet Coast

    ReplyDelete
  8. As they say, there is a time for everything. Now is your time to take a break. Hey, you are still on this side of the line, so do us a favour and stay put and stay here, ok? Giving up two or four wheels for a while is just a small (and temporary) sacrifice. You'll be back. Take care, man!

    ReplyDelete
  9. Ok, it's been three more weeks. How are things going? Besides the obvious that tax time is come and gone. Doing ok?

    ReplyDelete
  10. Good god, I feel for you. I don't know what I'd do if I couldn't ride anymore. Take up gardening, I guess. I could buy a lot of basket cases for the price of the big Connie, though, and just do that, I guess.

    Your condition sounds ridiculous. I'm happy to hear you have a great wife to pull you through (who is also protected by the Good Samaritan law) The whole process of smashing your front ribs into your back ribs to keep you alive is absurd, but it works. Glad to hear you're doing better.

    And I hope, sincerely, for your sake that you get the OK to get back out there. Best of luck.

    Brady
    Behind Bars - Motorcycles and Life
    http://www.behindbarsmotorcycle.com/

    ReplyDelete