What Shall I Rave About Today?

So here it is 9:16 in the AM and I'm trying to figure out what to write about today. My left hand has gone numb for some reason, which makes it hard to type. I have lots I want to say but not much skill to say it.

One of the major problems with the last couple of years was my job. I wrote about the job that I loved, Burnout*. How I left it and found another that wasn't as good a fit and I got very sick and left that job. It took some time to be well enough to find another job. The job with the teens I never intended to stay with for long because it was too easy but at the same time I felt like I wasn't doing a good job. I realize now that I was sick the entire 18 months I was in that job. And when it ended I couldn't find another job. Every application I submitted resulted in an interview.

I have never before gone more than 3 interviews without an offer. Now, 20 interviews. Not a single offer. Talk about depressed.

* This computer at the extended care won't load pictures or link posts. (J's note, I liked it for you, mom. :) )

So It Goes

So here I am. Not very bright and clever. But not lost. Working on a new keyboard, so clumsy. Much I'd like to say, but my hand goes to sleep and my butt aches. I wish my body felt better and worked better. Talking tires me, as does listening. I want to sleep and wish I had the energy to be awake. The hours pass slowly and I am beginning to realize that I am depressed. Dare I say it, Cheerful Charlie that I am? Depressed.

I have spent my life being optimistic and cheery and I have decided to let myself be unhappy here. I think that the more public my outcry the better it may do me, on the theory of not hiding a thing. So, prepare. For a while, I may just rant and rave.

What has this sickness cost me? Shall we start with my Hooligans? My soft, silky loves. Inky Pippin and wicked Merry? I will never again wake up with Pippin on my hip and Merry on my feet. Never. I feel so empty without my Hooligan boys. And they will never understand. One day I went out to breakfast and never came back. And they lost me and home and each other. They've been together since the womb, and now they are not. And I want to cry and scream and yell and carry on. My babies.

I know that they will adapt. One day they may not even remember me. But I'm not certain I'll ever recover. Yes, I know I will. But I don't feel like I ever will.



And I love them so much. I enjoyed their company and the soft warmth of their little beings. Merry cuddling on my chest and purring like all get along. Pippin looking me in the eye and knocking things off the desk. Very much on purpose. Sheer delight. How can I go on without them?

Well, Hi Again

I'm back! Tired and not very active yet, but back. With a computer available in the break room.

The notice says to limit to 20 minutes or less and I've been reading comments so I'm going to leave you for now, but I'll be back before the day is out.

Monday Update

Hi Everyone, J here again. Mom seems to be doing better every day, and is now ready to be moved back to the Extended Care Facility. I don't think she suffered a setback so much as she was moved before she was really ready the first time. And of course, the anti-anxiety drugs were no help at all. But over this last week, it sounds like she's made a lot of progress emotionally and some progress physically, and is getting her head wrapped around what needs to be done. And one thing about Maya's Granny is that once she has the challenge figured out, she tackles it head on.

One nice thing about the Extended Care Facility is that it has at least one computer that patients can access, and I'm pretty sure they wouldn't do that without internet access, so it's possible she'll be back to blogging herself soon! I know she'll at least be reading if she gets the chance. Perhaps I'm being premature in hoping she'll be back online soon, but I'll let you know if she doesn't have access.

So all signs are looking up, I'm happy to say. Mom and I have had much better conversations this week, which has been a relief with her off of the heavy meds. The 'mom moving fund' has been GREAT, and has raised $1,780 thus far. With our expense being $3,800, that leaves just over $2,000 for Richard and I, which is SO much more manageable than the numbers we were looking at just a few weeks ago. Again, thank you to everyone who has been able to chip in. And of course, thank you to everyone for your kind words and continued support. I'm hoping this will be the last you'll hear from me over here, and mom's voice will return where it belongs. If you need to find me, as always, I'm over here. :)

~J

Time for an Update?

Here we are, and it's a few days since I've updated you. Last you heard, mom had been transferred from the hospital over to the extended care facility. Well, that didn't last long. There was some sort of problem with some anti-anxiety drugs that they gave her, and so she was having trouble breathing, and they sent her to the emergency room early on Saturday morning. These things frustrate me, because of course I'm so out of the loop, I don't know what's going on. And the nurse in the ICU scared the hell out of me, telling me that mom's lungs and heart are in terrible shape, and making it sound like she might never be well enough to leave. WTF? That scared me, and some other things scared me, and it sounded like gosh, she might die anytime now, and maybe she had given up, deciding that her quality of life wasn't going to be what she wanted, so she was done. So I cried, and I called my grandma and made her cry, too. Grandma has already buried two of her four children, and would not like to outlive any more. So we got the whole family all worked up, and had a fairly surreal Saturday. Sunday, I called to see when they thought she might be taken off of the ventilator and be allowed to wake up, and instead of talking to the nurse in the ICU, I was able to speak to my mom, who was feeling MUCH better, was awake and alert and more chatty than she's been in over a week. I spoke to her doctor, who didn't mirror any of the concerns that the nurse the day before had shared with me. I'm still hoping to talk to another doctor about a more long term prognosis, and this is part of what is hard about being so far away...sometimes they don't want to give out information over the phone, and when they do, sometimes I don't think to ask a pertinent question until much later, and I don't know what the hell is going on.

I just called and spoke to my mom a few minutes ago, and she sounds great. She is more lucid and coherent than I've heard her in awhile. I believe this is because they have her off of the Paxil. She's asking for lemon drops, because her throat is so dry. I have a cousin in Anchorage, so I'm going to ask if he can bring her some. But more importantly, she is coherent enough to realize that although she has very little control over her life and its schedules right now, she would like to know what is going to happen, so she can give it some predictability at the very least. And she is planning to discuss this with her physical therapist and doctor, which is a huge improvement over her wanting me to call her nurse and ask her to go in and help her change her tv channel, which was how she was under the Paxil.

So that's the update, where we are now. Mom is doing well. Not as well as if her lungs were healthier, I suspect. But well. I'm not sure how long it will be before she is moved back to the extended care facility, and not sure how long between that move and her coming to California. But at least things are looking up.

And I thought of updating you on Saturday, telling you of all of my fears and how she might die at any time, but just talking to family about it was making me cry, and I hadn't told all of her friends and family yet, and didn't want folks to learn about it via the blog. I wish none of you would find out bad news, should it come, via the blog. But for today at least, the news is good, and mom's in fighting shape, looking forward to moving to CA and being closer to more family, though of course she will miss Richard and Kathy, and her beloved Hooligans, and her many, many dear friends in Juneau.

Good News Update

I spoke with the Nurse Practitioner who is in charge of my mom's case this afternoon, and she said mom is doing MUCH better. That she seems to be reacting really well to being off of the Paxil, and that she seemed chipper and upbeat.

She left the hospital today, and is being moved to an extended care facility in Anchorage, where she will continue to receive both physical and occupational therapy until she is ready to come to California. If you would like to send her an email there, you still can at the same website, just pick Providence Extended Care from the drop down, and remember to address it to Lilith, not Joycelyn. (Joycelyn is her middle name.)

You have no idea how relieved I am to hear that she is doing better. She was really resisting her physical therapy, not wanting to get up, not wanting to help the nurses to help her. She was like a different person than the mom that I know, and that was kind of scary. I was starting to wonder if something had happened with the anesthesia or something. But she got up and walked 4 times yesterday, vs. earlier in the week when they could barely get her to walk once. Oh, what a difference it makes to not be on medication that isn't helping you in the least!

So, it's still a long haul, I would think. She still has a lot of discomfort, and a lot of hard work, ahead of her. But it's good to know she's back on board with this whole thing, and feeling better. Even if she is still tired and sleeping much of the time. ;)

More good news: Richard received word that the estimate for moving mom's things to California was high, really high, and the actual expense will be closer to $4,000. Whew! We have received $1,310 from kind souls; friends and family that we know in person, and friends that we only know through the internet. Please know that your generosity is greatly appreciated, and has made a difficult load easier to bear. Not just financially, but also emotionally. Thank you all.

Mom updates

I've decided that I'm going to post updates below the 'hat in hand' post, in case people come looking for it. Updates on her progress will be just below. ~J

3/11/08 - There's an update below...
3/12/08 - Update on her surgery today...

Hat in Hand...

Hi Everyone, J here again. While I was in Alaska fretting about mom's surgery and trying to keep friends and family updated on her progress, Richard has been in Juneau figuring out how to get her things moved down to California. He and his wonderful wife, Kathy, have been going through her things and trying to figure out what goes to California, and what gets tossed. It's not easy to go through someone else's things and figure out what has sentimental value to them, and what is something that is just sitting there because the person didn't have enough energy to throw it away. I don't envy him the task.

Last week, the movers came, and assessed the cost of shipping her things...and it came out to almost $8,000. ACK! Richard is going to put this on his credit card, and it will take a long time to pay off. I'm planning on chipping in what I can, but I'm not sure how much that will be.

So many people have asked how they can help, if there's anything they can do to help make the burden a little bit lighter. You have all helped already with your well wishes and support, which has meant so much to us, and to my mom. If you are in the position to help out a bit financially as well, and if you're so inclined, we would definitely appreciate it. And if you would like to help, but you don't have a paypal account, email me at j_asregadoo AT yahoo DOT com, and I'll write back with Richard's snail mail address, which is where any checks can be sent. If you prefer paypal, here's a button to a page Richard has set up for mom's move fund.

Again, thank you all so much for all that you've done. You don't know how much it has helped us already, especially mom, who has loved hearing from you all via blog comments, email, snail mail, and flowers. (Dea, the first thing she said to me when she came out of her drugged state was to please thank you for the card. :) )

~ J

Update: Thank you so much everyone...thus far, we have received over $1,200 toward mom's move, which will help a LOT. You are too kind, and it means a lot to us. The support of all of mom's friends, and of our friends, has meant a lot. Thank you.

Surgery Update

Mom had surgery today, to put in an internal cardiac defibrillator (I think that's what it is called.) She was originally scheduled for this surgery yesterday, but she got bumped. She wasn't too happy about that, because when you're going into surgery, you're not allowed to eat or drink, and she was very thirsty when I spoke to her. So to have it all be for naught was frustrating.

Anyway, I called the hospital this morning to see what time the surgery was scheduled to take place, and they said she had already left. Yay, no more sitting around wishing for something to drink! I called back a little while ago, and I spoke to her. She said she's feeling a bit more chipper today, which is good news.

I'm still thinking she'll be moved to the assisted living facility tomorrow. I'll let you know how she's doing as soon as I know more.

Updated Update

Hi all, J here. I haven't written any updates in a few days, mainly because things have been pretty much the same, but also because we're all a bit down about the whole thing, and it's frustrating.

First problem is that they had my mom on Paxil, which is an anti-depressant (I'm sure I'll be seeing a bunch of spam comments now that I put that name in the post), and I think she isn't reacting very well to it. She's been giving the nurses a hard time, and in ways that are not at all like her normal self. The doctor took her off of the Paxil today, so hopefully in a few days, she'll be more herself. If not, then we have to try to figure out what else the problem could be. Just frustration and exhaustion? Another med she's on? Not sure.

Second problem is that she doesn't have a lot of energy, and is having trouble with the walking. It's such a huge part of recovery, so very important, but she just feels exhausted and worn out when she tries. Which is part of the hard time the nurses are getting.

She seems sad when I talk to her. She's lonely I know, and yet doesn't really have the energy to talk on the phone or visit. She's sleeping a LOT.

They found another problem, and so she's having another surgery on Wednesday. They are going to insert an internal cardiac defibrillator, I think. Much smaller, much less invasive surgery, but surgery nonetheless.

She's moving Thursday, probably, to an extended care center. I didn't want her to end up having to go there, but she's in no shape right now to move to California, and I'm wondering if she'll be ready in the next few weeks. Ugh. So stressful. She needs a LOT more physical therapy before she's ready to move on, and that's the best place for her to receive it.

I'm sure she would love to hear from you. You can email her using this page.

For now she's at the Medical Center, which you select from the drop down menu (actually, it's the default), and she's in under the name Lilith Ward, and her room is 278. I'm sure she would be OK with me putting that info up here. I'll probably pull it in a day or two. She's moving on Thursday probably, and then you can use the same page, but select Providence Extended Care Center from the drop down.

Sorry the news isn't better. It's not dire. She's doing ok. Just disheartened and not feeling well. Muh. I wish so much that there was something I could do to help her through this. Feeling pretty helpless right about now.

~ J

MG Update

I received a message from the Doctor's assistant today...and from Mom's nurse as well. Seems they'll call you back sooner if you leave them your phone number. I thought it was in the file somewhere obvious. Oh well.

She isn't recovering as quickly as we had hoped for, but more quickly than we had feared. She got up and walked some today, which seemed to help her feel much better. So that's good. Not so queasy from all of the meds today, again, good news.

The donations to her moving fund have surpassed $1,000 already...I've gotta say (and forgive me for repeating myself, because I've said this in a few thank-you notes), I'm starting to feel like George Bailey in "It's a Wonderful Life", when the entire community comes together to help in his time of need. Indeed, no man is poor when he has friends. And mom has many. (And a few of mine and Py's have kicked in as well, for which we are very grateful.) ~J

Update

I know many of mom's online friends, and friends in real life, are coming here to find out how she's doing, so I'll try to be better about letting you know. Right now, I'm not sure what her progress is. Yesterday they said they were planning on moving her from critical care to progressive care, and that she was doing well. I feel like I need more info than that. She's pretty out of it when I talk to her, and I don't know if that's the anesthesia, the pain medication she's on now, or just her body trying to recuperate from the heart surgery. I feel like I need a reality check. I'm going to place a call to her doctor today and see if he will give me more pertinent information. I'll let you know, within HIPAA regulations. ;)

She did say that she misses you all and loves you.

~J

More Good News!

Blogging from the Seattle airport now, at a chi-chi little place with a cheese plate and a glass of wine, and that feels just about right right now. I went to visit mom early this morning, on my way out. It was just about the hardest thing ever to leave with that tube still down her throat. Her nose itched, and I was there to scratch it. But then I left, and who would help her with that? She couldn't talk, because of the tube down her throat, helping her to breathe. She tried spelling something to me, but either I was too lame to read the letters, or she was too drugged up to make normal letters for me, but I couldn't read them. We squeezed hands, and she cried a bit, and I cried more, and I felt like the biggest turd on earth for leaving her there like that. I'm tearing up here and now, thinking about it. It SUCKED.

The night shift ended at about the time I had to get to the airport, so the kind nurse who was caring for her overnight drove me to the airport (near her house)...I gotta say, folks in Alaska are nicer than folks in California, by about 10 1/2 miles. I was so so sad to leave, and it was nice to have a taste of kindness on my way out. I only cried twice on the airplane about leaving her like that. I'm going to blame it all on Alaska Airlines, because when I originally changed my flight from last Saturday, I wanted to fly home tomorrow, but they didn't have any flights available. So if they had, I could have stayed long enough...

TO SEE HER WITHOUT HER TUBE!!! I landed in Seattle, and called first thing, and her wonderful day nurse Deb told me that they took the tube out, that she was much more comfortable now, that she had talked some, and was now sleeping comfortably. YAY! Oh mom, you show them that they shouldn't scare the hell out of your kids, your mom, your family and friends, by telling us that you could be under for a MONTH, with undertones of "well, at first we thought if we did the surgery she might be under FOREVER..." which made us think, Oh, crap, was THIS a bad idea...But you showed them not to mess with Maya's Granny, because you KICK ASS, and you're awake and talking, and will be up and about sooner than anyone dares to hope.

Go, Mom, GO!

With much love, and a ton of relief, J

(Cross posted at Thinking About...)

Blogging from ICU

Mom is doing better today than anyone expected, which just goes to prove that she's strong and determined, even when knocked out cold. They woke her up for just a few minutes today, and she was breathing on her own for a bit, so they feel confident that they will be able to remove the breathing tube in a day or two. I've been in here, talking to her and rubbing lotion on her wintery feet, and I think she can hear me. She opens her eyes once in awhile. I know she's not completely awake, as they said they don't like to do that with the tube down her throat, and I'm sure she won't remember that I was here, but I also think she knows I'm here now, and that's a good thing. She and I are both doing SO much better today. Thank you all for your good wishes and prayers. They have helped a lot.

~J

Good News/Bad News

Good News:
The surgery went very well. Mom got 5 bypasses, her heart seems to be tolerating and enjoying them. She got two units of blood, which she is also tolerating well. Her labwork since the surgery all came back looking great. That's a relief.

Bad News:
Mom's lungs aren't in great shape. The doctor said she might be able to come off of the ventilator tomorrow, which would be great. He also cautioned, however, that it's entirely possible that she won't be able to come off the ventilator (tube down her throat helping her to breathe) for several days, a week, even a month. And they'll keep her unconscious until she is off the ventilator, so I don't know how long before she'll be awake again. I'm sure hoping for tomorrow. I want to see her awake before I leave for California, which is Friday. I hate the idea of leaving here here, alone and asleep. But I can't stay, not knowing how much longer she'll be asleep. We did talk about this beforehand, and she agrees. That helps, but not as much as you might think.

At one point during the surgery, someone came out to tell me the progress, and they said that her lungs didn't look great. A bit later, I was talking to Richard on the phone, and he said, "I wonder if that could have anything to do with the heater in her apartment..." Crap. I had forgotten about that damn heater. A few years ago, she had a heater die in her apartment, slowly and without much noise or anything...it was quietly, slowly filling her apartment with soot. It happened so gradually that she didn't realize anything was going on, until one day she looked up and realized her walls were gray. Great. So after the surgery (not before, when they might have wanted to know this information, but it didn't occur to any of us that it could be important), I told the surgeon about the heater and the soot in her apartment. He said it's impossible to know what damage that may have done, but it could have done the same damage as decades of smoking. Wonderful. So yeah, she's doing well. But I've been crying, and I'm worried, and I wish I knew whether all of this worry was for nothing, or if this is just the beginning.

Blech. Sorry, I wish I had more good news. I want good news. I'm going to try to focus on the good news that I do have, which is that her heart is doing well, and her body is getting more good oxygen and blood than it has gotten in a long time, and that will help it to be strong and heal. That's where I have to focus, I think.

(cross-posted at Thinking About...)

Surgery update

Surgery is scheduled for first thing Wednesday morning. Maya's Granny did an awesome job of prepping for it, getting her lungs ready, moving and preparing. I'm so proud of her determination to take this opportunity to turn her health around. Her honesty when talking to the doctors here has only helped them to understand all of her own issues and desires. She is going to get physical and occupational therapy after this surgery that she should have had after her hysterectomy a few years ago, but didn't receive because her insurance ran out right after the surgery. She is sad about leaving Juneau, but looking forward to the freedom of living somewhere where the streets aren't icy and dangerous, and she can enjoy long walks and yummy California produce. Spending time with her beloved 'little mama', her Aunt who shares her birthday, and her 'baby' brother, Forrest. And, of course, seeing that wonderful girl, Maya, who made her a Granny to begin with. :)

I'll keep you up to date when I can. I do know that many of her good friends, esp her online friends, are coming here to follow her progress. Just to let you know, I'll be leaving Alaska on Friday, having spent two weeks here and needing to get back to my job and my family. I'm miserable at the idea of leaving her alone here, and I wish I could afford to stay with her while she recuperates. With me will go the computer, as she will be moving rooms a few times as her recovery progresses, and we don't want to see it go missing in the transitions, and the hospital safes are not large enough to hold it. So you won't hear from her for awhile, probably not until she is in California, which may be a few weeks. I will come back here from time to time and let you know her progress, but leave most of it to her to tell in her own time, as this is her blog, not mine, and it should show her voice, not mine. Thank you all for the support you have shown to her, and to me. You have no idea how much it helps.

~J

UPDATE: One of the surgical team members came in a few minutes ago, and said that surgery started at just before 9 a.m. Alaska time, which is 10:00 Pacific time. It will be hours before we know more, but thus far all is going well. :) I probably won't update again until she's completely finished, which will be 3-5 more hours, I think.

Mom was downright chipper about the whole thing this morning, looking forward to a new chapter in her life, whatever the hell she has to do to get there, including bypass surgery. I think that attitude will take her far in her recovery and future.

Moving On

2/25/08

So there. It's said. I'm not going back to the apartment that I've loved so much. Or to my Hooligans. My books will probably be in storage for quite awhile until I'm able to live on my own again. Life is going to be different and I don't know how or when. But I suspect it will be an adventure. New things to discover. Being able to take a walk without worrying that I might fall on the ice. Days of sunshine and bright skies.

I really do love California. It's just different than Alaska. But, cheerful Charlie that I am, I'll focus on the produce and the closeness of family and the sunshine. The closeness of friends.

So Sunday night I almost picked a fight with my new night nurse over the blood pressure cuff. When I got here, one nurse was able to take my blood pressure with one cuff in a new position. That the reason my arm has hurt so much was that I am short between the shoulder and elbow and the broader cuffs are also too long. So, for a week I've been having relatively pain free blood pressure tests. Then tonight, Kittie decided that she doesn't buy into that theory and she is going to do it her way.

Part of me recognizes that she is wanting to take care of my health. Part of me feels the standard dismissal of a woman's report of her own body that medical science throws at us. Should I be fighting for my own reality? Allowing her to take care of me?

Is it worth a major battle? Is it part of an ongoing pattern that just feels like, "If you're going to be that fat, you can just suffer the pain, and that'll teach you!"

Too much time on my hands, not enough intellectual grist to chew on! (J's note - I know mom wishes she could go on the internet right now...)

I wake in the morning and there is a white board at my feet. It tells me the day and date, where to find Julie, and the name of the nurse today. Kitty is taking readings and telling me all is getting better. I'm used to being checked on in the mornings by a cat who is concerned by my health. This is a very nice Kitty. A good way to start my day. "You," Kitty tells me, "should write all this down."

"I am," I tell her. A woman can be forgiven for the blood pressure cuff if she recognizes talent when she sees it.

The nurses and doctors have the recliner thing to wrestle with every day. (J's note - there is a recliner in the room, and a nurse early on showed Richard how to work it. It's not intuitive, and I have since given training to two other nurses on how it works. It's stupid that they haven't been shown, because, as I said, it's not intuitive, which a recliner certainly SHOULD be.) It shouldn't be that hard to open. It makes me mad how hard that is for them to do. Why hasn't anyone taught the staff of this hospital how to open the chair without injuring themselves? Why isn't the chair designed better? It shouldn't be that people who are trying to help you are being hurt!

More Notes from the Hospital

2/24/08
6:45 a.m.

The first day I was here, my brother the infamous Forrest, called me and told me he was "Rich the Stich" from the Haight Ashbury and a whole bunch of the 'old gang' were cheering for me to make it. And he thought it was funny that I would think someone from 1963 would know that I'd had a heart attack. "How," he wanted to know, did I think Rich had found out?
"Julie posted it on my blog."
"People read your blog?"

So, on Saturday evening when Forrest called claiming to be a perfectly respectable black man looking for his sister, I didn't fall for it! I'm just lucky that I didn't tell him that he didn't do a very good black man! And when he actually did call late, he didn't think it was nearly as hilarious as I did. But,in my James Thurber loving mind, yesterday will always be the day Forrest pretended to be a black person.

Richard went back to Juneau on Thursday. My surgery was too far out for him to be able to be here than and take time off to bring me home. (J's note...surgery has been pushed back until Wednesday at the earliest). Poor Julie, feeling so sad when Richard left her alone!

Poor Richard, to have to go to Juneau and close out my apartment. To have to decide which of my stuff to send to California, and which not. To have to find new homes for my Hooligans! To deal with banks and all the other business which I won't be able to pick up again for awhile.

Well, fudge.

2/23/08
8:00 a.m.

Someone stole my clipboard. Well, no. It's their clipboard, but it feels like "someone stole my clipboard." And now I want to write truly breathless prose. And the clipboard is gone.

But Dawn knew where it was, and so now nothing can hold me down. I shall write a masterpiece among the "almost had a heart attack but refused to die" genre. I will be famous. People will date things from this date, February 23, 2008 - the day Joycelyn woke up and it seemed like people were swarmed over her and taking readings and giving pills and deciding she should pee more, that she had been good so she could have a new mask. I am, the therapist says, entitled to a new mask every three months! Well, damn it, why didn't anyone tell me earlier?

Why, I wonder, did I think I wasn't allowed coffee? It is such a pleasure - and I wonder how much I've been missing due to the impression that I'm doing well to get by with this?

Until yesterday, the world seemed to revolve around a quiet, perhaps contemplative sort of genteelness that was the way "our" folk get sick - in a ladylike manner, not asking too much of anyone. Actually, having 'good' medical care provided over a faint protest of "Oh, this isn't necessary. Surely not this much. I just want to go out to breakfast and buy some cat food. No need for all this fuss. Well, that shot which makes the upset stomach go away. That would do. No need for Richard to get shoved into the end of a jet and flown to Anchorage alongside his poor helpless mother's body with a damned tube stuck down its throat." Yes, that kind of too genteel to-find-myself-HERE sort of thing.

But what I notice, today, is that this hospital wing doesn't end at my room. When Dawn isn't with me, she is with someone else! Her life consists of things beyond my blood pressure and volume of urine and meds and did the doctor come and see me? I'll bet she leaves here at night and people love her. And there are other patients in those other rooms! Who knew?

Do you know how I know it's Jenny on the phone? Am I already doing something that means I can't talk to her? Then it's Jenny. If I'm alone and lonely and would give my right arm for a call from Jenny? Then I can bet it's someone I've already talked to!

2/23/08
1:05 p.m.

Yesterday was a foggy in and out type of day. Mostly the world was my world - it didn't go much beyond my toes or include much that wasn't me. I remember thinking in the afternoon that they had brought a black child to the person in the next room - wondered why no one had sent me one? And when I walked past there to the shower, I remember thinking that they must be using that room for an emergency simulation, and wondering where the Coast Guard had found an entire multi-generational black family for their drill?

Thank you, Little OO

J here. I just wanted you to know that mom has received your emails and your beautiful flowers, and that she is very touched, and is enjoying the flowers greatly, and your kind words mean so much to her.

I'll let you know as soon as I can how the surgery goes. :) Until then, you'll probably be hearing more from mom, as she has a lot to say right now. That will drop off drastically, as I have to leave on Friday to go home, and she won't have a way to get online for awhile. And right after surgery, I'm sure she won't have much to say, either. But I'll keep you up to date until then. :)

~J

Update

This is J again. Mom came through the angiogram well. She did not enjoy it at all. Looks like she will need bypass surgery, probably on Friday, but that's just a guess, as I haven't talked to her surgeon about it yet.

Will keep you up to date as I know more.

UPDATE: It's Thursday noonish...looking like surgery will be early next week, probably Monday. I'll keep you all informed as I learn more. ~ J

Things I've Learned From This Experience

• The tea is stronger if you actually put the bag in the hot water.
• A catheter that lets you sleep without having to get up multiple times in the night to pee has much to recommend it.
• Good friends are a blessing beyond price. Those who make sure you're ok, and those that send flowers.
• You feel a little foolish when you read a list of symptoms and you had them all.
• It's possible for a cheerful, optimistic person to feel cheerful and optimistic, and still be depressed.
• If you bother to mention the last name of an old high school buddy, your mother might know who you're talking about.
• If your body isn't acting at all like it usually does, you might pay attention to that.
• The King's youngest daughter was right - food without salt is a little dull.
• Myth Busters is as much fun in the middle of the night as it is at noon.
• Hospitals aren't nearly as restful as you'd think.

Can't keep MG from Blogging

Hi again, J here. My mom may be laid up in a hospital bed with no access to a computer, and she may be on pain meds, but she still thinks of her blog, and of the blog fodder to get out of this experience. ;) So, she hand-wrote this post, and I'm in the 'family area' of the hospital where I can use Richard's computer without fear of interfering with heart monitoring equipment, and I'll transcribe her story thus far.
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On Thursday, I was in a great deal of pain in my left arm, which has been happening a lot lately. But, as I'll explain as I go, as per usual I was mostly ignoring it. That's partly because I'm a colonial descendant and so my ethnic programming is to keep a stiff upper lip and not complain, and partly because I can be damned stupid at times.

My landlady was over, not fixing the sink (fixing things that should have worked but didn't), and could tell that I was really hurting. But I took a Percoset and 3 Ibuprofin and by bed time it was better. I was trying to figure out what could be causing soft muscle pain and decided to chart the various factors I knew, so I could find out. Barometric pressure - it had been up and down for the last three days, pretty much with my pain level. Whether I was using my heating pad. A number of other things, but these two seemed to trade(? mom's handwriting...). "Perhaps," I decided, "I had managed to keep a minor injury inflamed with too much heat.

Friday, I got up and the apartment was cold. It turned out that someone had turned the fuel off at the tank. I called my landlady and told her how cold I was, and that the pain was worse than the day before. She called at about 4:30 to tell me that she had discovered the problem and would be over (she lives two doors away) to turn on the pilot light by 5:30. She wasn't there, nor was she answering her phone, and I was in agony. I called Richard to come, but he was at work and couldn't get away, so he sent Kathy.

The pilot light wouldn't light and the pain got worse and I didn't dare use the heating pad for fear things would get even worse. When my landlady finally came over at 7:30, Kathy was still struggling to get the pilot lit, and I was in truly horrible pain. No explanation from the landlady. They never did get the downstairs pilot lit, but the landlady managed to get the upstairs one working, and off they went.

At 9pm, the pilot was still lit, but no heat. I called the landlady and asked if she could bring me the space heater she used when she was heating the pipes to keep them from freezing. She sent her son-in-law, who checked the heater and TURNED IT ON, and by 9:30 the upstairs was getting warm and my pain was dropping. But he still couldn't light the downstairs pilot light, so I stayed upstairs in the heat, even though all I'd had to eat that day was half of a peanut butter sandwich. So, Saturday I published my pre-written blog post, got dressed and fed the cats, and headed out to meet the Saturday Morning Breakfast Club. Though I felt nauseous, I figured the reason was hunger. When my friend Christine came to pick me up, the first thing she said was, "Shall I take you to Bartlett (the local hospital) or to breakfast?"

Which is how I arrived at the Sandpiper Cafe, and having forgotten to put in my partial plate (you know, the teeth at the top left of my face), and with a grocery list that said only, "cat food, garbage bags, sandwich bags". (J's note...mom does her shopping on Sat, and never without a full list, so this is unusual. She also doesn't usually leave the house without her teeth. ;) )

Christine and Harold tended me while I drank ginger tea and ate four spoons of oatmeal, and apparently while I was in the bathroom, decided that although Harold had to go home to care for his dad, Christine was not leaving me alone at the A&P. Somewhere between the table and Christine's car, I regained whatever semblance of sanity I had, and asked if I could go to Bartlett now. And that's how I ended up in Bartlett at 9:30a.m. with consumptive heart failure and being medivacted with Richard by my side to Anchorage. Turns out that pain in my left arm? Angina.

I'm not sure how long it's been going on, but it turns out that when you can't breathe well, you don't think well. I've been getting worse and worse and scolding myself for being lazy for quite awhile now.

Julie flew up immediately, so poor Richard didn't have to do this alone. We won't know what treatment I'm going to need until Wednesday, because I have to be able to lay flat on my back for over an hour for the test, and there is still liquid in my lungs preventing that. So, Richard and Julie are in Anchorage taking care of me, and Kathy is in Juneau, caring for the Hooligans and helping me out in many other ways.

By the way, I still don't have my front teeth in.

Where's Granny?

Hello loyal readers...you may have noticed that my mom hasn't posted in a few days (well, technically yesterday). She is in the hospital for a few tests and perhaps a procedure, but asked me to let you know that she's OK, and will be back to her bloggy self asap.

~J

Minnesota Starvation StudyII

Yesterday I talked about the Minnesota Starvation Study done in the 1940s by Ancel Benjamin Keys, Ph.D., which examined the results of starvation on a group of 40 healthy young men, as discussed by Sandy Szwarc, of Junkfood Science in her post, How we've come to believe that obesity is caused by overeating. In that post, I looked at some of the physical effects of starvation/dieting and examined my own dieting experience with what Dr. Keys discovered. Today I want to look at the psychological effects.

But the psychological changes that were brought on by dieting, even among these robust men with only moderate calorie restrictions, were the most profound and unexpected. So much so that Dr. Keys called it “semistarvation neurosis.” The men became nervous, anxious, apathetic, withdrawn, impatient, self-critical with distorted body images and even feeling overweight, moody, emotional and depressed. A few even mutilated themselves, one chopping off three fingers in stress. They lost their ambition and feelings of adequacy, and their cultural and academic interests narrowed. They neglected their appearance, became loners and their social and family relationships suffered. They lost their senses of humor, love and compassion. Instead, they became obsessed with food, thinking, talking and reading about it constantly; developed weird eating rituals; began hoarding things; consumed vast amounts of coffee and tea; and chewed gum incessantly (as many as 40 packages a day). Binge eating episodes also became a problem as some of the men were unable to continue to restrict their eating in their hunger.

The act of restricting food and the constant hunger “made food the most important thing in one’s life,” said one of the participants. “Food became the one central and only thing really in one’s life. And life is pretty dull if that’s the only thing. I mean, if you went to a movie, you weren’t particularly interested in the love scenes, but you noticed every time they ate and what they ate.”

These experiences are familiar to those who’ve spent their lives dieting. In fact, many of the symptoms once thought to be primary features of anorexia nervosa are actually normal biological responses of undernutrition and restrictive eating, said David M. Garner, PhD., director of River Centre Clinic in Sylvania, Ohio, in Psychoeducational principles in the treatment of eating disorders (NY: Guilford Press, 1997). It was actually Dr. Keys’ research that first evidenced the role of dieting in increasing risks for eating disorders.

The extreme physical and mental effects Dr. Keys observed led to his famous quote: “Starved people cannot be taught democracy. To talk about the will of the people when you aren’t feeding them is perfect hogwash.” This was also what led early feminist activists to see dieting and weight concerns as a way to keep women preoccupied with food, filled with guilt and self-hatred, more easily influenced by others, and too mentally and physically exhausted to succeed professionally and politically.

Think about these results for a moment. And then think about them again. And then think about the degree to which the government is involved in promoting the idea that we are in the midst of an "obesity epidemic." And the concern of governments all over the world with childhood obesity.

Today's political landscape requires that we be informed and capable of critical thinking. Remembering that the subjects Dr. Keys worked with were on 1,600 calories a day and that most reducing diets are 1,200 calories or less a day. That once the calorie restriction part of the study was complete, the subjects naturally ate 4,000 calories a day and that when dieters find themselves eating over 2,000 calories a day they panic about the "binge" eating they are doing and try to put themselves back on their diets. That the Minnesota study subjects wanted to regain the weight they had lost and dieters do NOT. How many dieters ever get back to a state of psychological health? How many are ever really capable of their best critical thinking and deepest thought? How many are in a state to pay close attention to what the government is doing?

At the very least, this national obsession with weight is reducing not our waistlines but our vigilance. I'm not a conspiracy theorist, and I don't think that anyone is purposely seeing if they can get us to starve ourselves into a state of apathy about the direction our government is going. But isn't it convenient for them?

And I do believe that the diet industry, which brings in over $66 billion a year, lobbies strongly for obesity measures from the government to increase their profits. And I also believe that if anyone is aware of the rest of this, if they know just how uncritical dieting makes the populace, it doesn't bother them in the least.

Recruitment poster courtesy Sandy Szwarc, Junkfood Science