4weeks ago--Nov. 7th--11th

I’ve felt rotten for a few weeks.  I had seen the Cardiologist P.A. on Oct. 21, and they added a new BP med to lower my BP.  I told them that I thought it was already low enough, as I was having feelings of light headiness.

So last Saturday, I sat in my chair all day and watched football games.  Sunday morning I woke up and felt so weak and faint.  I took my BP and saw it was 92/45—and my heart rate was 140.  Usually I can feel a high heart rate in my neck, but I couldn’t feel this.

I decided I had better call 911.   I knew I had to let my sister  know, but at that moment, I couldn’t remember even how to use the phone to get her number.  Someone said, “Why would you post that on FB?”

Well, I knew my sister would see it that way.  Like I said I was, “out of it”.

When I got to the ER, my BP was 89/38—they wondered how I was still conscious…AND I was in active AFib.  High heart rate and it was tap dancing all over the place—140 to 100 to 150 to 108.

My daughter-in-law had thankfully seen the FB post and texted my sister and daughter’s.  My daughter Jennifer, way out in New Jersey, called two of the local hospital’s until she found me and called the ER department and insisted she talk to me.  I did not have my cell phone with me—never even thought about it.

The ER was full—all beds taken and people waiting in the waiting room to get in.  After 12 hours of laying there, they finally had a bed open up on the “heart” floor and I was admitted.

I had gone through this AFib nonsense 6 years ago and the med they gave me then had worked just fine, until the Cardiologist decided to stop it and put me on 3 different ones.  BTW—I have a  new cardiologist now.

So, back on the original med—Metoprolol—to get the BP stabilized and then a cardioversion yesterday morning. That’s where they shock the heart and it goes back into normal sinus rhythm—takes about 20 minutes from start to finish, no big deal—I had it 6 years ago. 

I did have fun in the hospital—with me, the more concerned I get, the more I joke around, so the nurses/techs/residents, thought I was their comic relief for the week.  Of course, I knew what to expect.  One MD told me, “You are the most knowledgeable patient I have ever treated.”  I wanted to reply, “Yeah Doc.  The better to know so you can’t kill me!”  But I didn’t say that.  Like I said, I actually had fun and if it weren’t for their insistence to poke needles in me to check blood levels, it would have been a lot more fun.

So—end result.  They took away 4 BP meds and kept me just on the Metoprolol, which had worked so well for 6 years and 2 months and sent me home.  I’m fine.  Worn out of course.  Back hurts from laying in that hospital bed, but no heart flutters, which is a good thing.

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Last Sunday-yesterday

First of all, if someone tells you that COVID is still rampant—believe them.  I just got home from a hospital with over 500 beds—about 75 beds per floor—and they have 3 floors devoted to COVID patients only, plus over flow in their Emergency Department Trauma Center…about 250 COVID patients.

Adventure 2.0:  I had been feeling so dizzy and tired.  I thought it was because my BP was high, than low and all over the place…not so and not related to what I was in hospital for Nov. 8-11^th.

I was short of breath on Saturday, Nov. 27^th, but there was an important football game on TV, so I decided to get through the day and if I didn’t feel better, to call Sunday morning.  I woke up at 2:00am Sunday morning, fighting to breathe.  If I sat upright in my chair, it was easier, so I sat in my chair, trying to nap for the next few hours.  I wasn’t going to call anyone in the middle of the night nor early Sunday morning, so at 8:30, when I realized that I needed to get help, I just posted a quick FB post, knowing that my DIL or sister would see it and text the other kids, by then, I was shaking so hard that I couldn’t have made a phone call to anyone and have to explain—911 was the best I could do.

It took the ambulance guys about 8 minutes to get here and determine that I should go “in”, I fought hard once again to have them take me to the “small hospital” in Howell, rather than the Main hospital 35 minutes away—where they wanted to take me.  I won the battle and we arrived at a once again, over loaded ER—people in beds all along the wall, every ER room full.  They did a chest x-ray and came in to tell me they were transporting me down to the “mother ship” big hospital—as the hospital in Howell is a satellite hospital.  Never been in an ambulance before and now I got 3 rides in 3 weeks!

We arrived there an hour later, into a bigger ER department with an over-flow in their new Trauma Center—all the rooms there were full with 17 of us on beds along the wall.  The next few hours are kind of a blur—bright lights—noisy—so much activity.  They did take me for a chest scan and by midnight, I was in a room “upstairs”.  More people coming in to check me out—vitals and then at 2:00am, some doc prescribed that liquid LASIX be put in my IV line.  Lasix—a water pill, at 2:00 am?  I felt so bad for my nurses and tech, because I had to pee every half hour and they had to help me to the bathroom.  I told them I could manage with the walker, but “hospital policy” says…….and they had snuck an alarm pad into my bed, where if I got up, because of course, I tried it…loud alarms sounded and 2 quite large, male techs showed up, scolded me and told me they were required to help me to the bathroom.  GEEZ!

Monday was a day of tests—another Echo Cardiogram and the Doc told me my heart was very strong and healthy and “it won’t be your heart that takes you out!”—HAH.  Then another tech and wheelchair showed up at my door and the words I was scared to hear, “we are here to take you for a needle aspiration of your right lung, you have fluid build-up—no wonder I couldn’t breathe!  I had heard about needle aspiration—they stick a 6 foot needle in your back, through the ribs and into the lung to drain the fluid, so I was scared, but, it wasn’t bad at all.  I silently prayed, “Dear God, help me be brave” and He did.  NO—the needle isn’t really 6 feet long—it’s pretty long, but………..

600 ml fluid off that lung—helped with my breathing.  The fluid was clear and I asked if I had any lung problems like COPD or anything and the needle tech wondered why I would ask.  “No you don’t have COPD or chronic bronchitis…no stenosis…your lungs are in very good shape, why did you think otherwise?”  “Oh,,” I replied, “because I smoked for 60 years.”  “WELL, YOU’D NEVER KNOW IT BY LOOKING AT YOUR LUNG SCANS.”

 Tuesday noon, the head of PT came in to inform me I had a fractured right scapula (shoulder blade).  “I do not!” I said.  He went on to try and convince me that the fall I had taken on the day after I got home from my first adventure, had broken my scapula and caused the retention of fluid in my “bruised” right lung.  He said the fracture had showed up on the x-ray from the Howell ER.  Now I had fallen, but I didn’t tell anyone and  I (thought) I had recovered because I had no pain for the last couple of weeks, but I do remember someone asking me if I had fallen recently and I said, “Yes”, but didn’t explain further.  “You know,” I said, “the equipment at Howell is probably older than what you have here, maybe you should take another x-ray because……I do not have a broken shoulder blade!”

So he put me through some tests with my right arm and I did all of them really well.  He just stood and stared at me.  Then he wheeled me down to the PT clinic and had me walk around with a walker and up and down steps and checked my right shoulder and……..I had no pain.  Then he said, “I’m going to notify your Doctor, write you off and have you released this afternoon.”

What a dummy I am!  I know very well that a fall can cause internal bleeding or fluid build-up.  Heck—my Daddy, at age 92, died a few days after a fall when his kidney area filled up with blood and his kidneys couldn’t get rid of it and his kidneys failed.  Why did it never occur to me that I could have a similar problem?  A lot of “olders” die from falls every year and it’s usually from internal injuries.  Why did I not think of that?  Because I can’t get it through my head that I AM OLD and if there is no pain, I think everything is okay.

So—it took me 3 ambulance rides, a myriad of scans and procedures to find out—the earlier hospital stay and this one were entirely unrelated—this was caused by a fall that I didn’t pay attention to AND my heart, my lungs and all other innards are really in very good shape.

Once again, I found my hospital stay to be interesting and I actually had fun.  More social interaction than I’ve had in nearly two years. LOL.

 spilt pop on keybor--no post this Sun,y

 I know it's Sunday and it's a sunny day and I shouldn't complain about anything, BUT--

for some reason this month has got me down. I feel over-whelmed and just trying to get through each day.

It all started with having to get that new toilet, which took a big chunk out of the money I had put aside to fix the muffler on The Car.

Last week, I had to get a blood draw, which involved trying to climb up the many steps to the Doc's office. I had PT on Tuesday and PT and a Doc appointment on Thursday--this time I used my walker and struggled up the inclined ramp at his office.

I didn't get to drive out to The Farm on Friday like I had planned. It was a day of continual torrential rain. It has been 19 months since I've "been home".

This week, I take my car in tomorrow late afternoon to have him work on it Tuesday. This involves working around my daughter's schedule so she can meet me there and bring me home.

I canceled my PT appointment for Tuesday.

Hopefully The Car will be ready for pick-up on Wednesday, which will involve finding out my daughter's schedule so she can take me over to get it. Lord only knows what it's going to cost.

Thursday I have an appointment at 11:45 for a renal artery CAT scan to make sure the new meds I am on aren't damaging my kidneys. This will involve wrestling my walker out of the back seat of The Car and using it to walk, quite a distance, into the little hospital, and then wrestling the walker back into the car. Thursday afternoon, I have a dental cleaning, which will again result in wrestling with the walker and going up the inclined ramp. I canceled my Thursday PT, but get to do that on Friday.

I cancelled my hair cut on Monday...it can wait.

On Wednesday of that week, I have a follow-up appointment at Michigan Heart, in the little hospital to make sure my new BP meds are working. I KNOW they are working as my BP is TOO low now, which makes me tired.

AND to top it all off? As I got up this morning, I noticed one of the cats had barfed on the living room carpet. Not by a piece of furniture, where I'd have something to hold onto as I bend over to clean it up and put stain remover on it, Oh No--right in the middle of the living room. I guess I can pull my rocking chair over and sit on it and bend over to get that mess cleaned up.

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I'm just so frustrated and tired and actually angry. My dead foot isn't getting any better. There may be no fix for it and there is NO fix for my back problems.

I don't pray for a cure...there are so many with worse physical problems than me, and I pray for them. I pray to be more grateful and positive and I am grateful. At least I can still stumble along and am not in a wheel chair. I just get so tired and depressed.

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Okay--pity party rant over. I won't post about any of this again--unless it is on a positive note.

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Remember the photo of my new toilet?

This is one I wish I had. LOL

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I order my non-food products from the grocery store and have them delivered. The other day my "shopper" called to tell me there was not wet cat food in the 28 can cartons and there was no cat litter.

Thursday my daughter took my food card to get my food groceries and call me half way through the store to tell me some of the items I wanted were not on the shelves.

"Mom", she said. "This is scary...so many shelves are just bare."

I guess it's getting like this all over the country. Not just items from foreign countries stuck on those cargo ships out at sea, but locally or USA made items and food that is manufactured right here in Michigan.

We are 19 months into this pandemic and I expected short supplies when people were hoarding, but that crazy stuff is now over. Most be a trucking issues?

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I'm not real fond of this world we are living in right now.

I am on some kind of roller coaster of emotions.

My drop-foot isn't getting any better.  I don't feel safe walking with a cane.  My balance is atrocious.  Even with the PT twice a week for 6 months now, I don't seem to be getting better.

I got the car.  Had a gift of money to fix the muffler on the car.  Then insanity broke loose.

We have terrible water here.  Rust and calcium to the max.  Things wear out quicker than normal.  I have had issues with the innards in my toilet tank for years.  The chain that pulled up the ring that pulled up the flapper to flush, kept rusting out.  I was capable enough to buy a new chain and fix it or use a wire and paper clip to fix it.

Three weeks ago, everything inside the tank just broke down.  Rusted pieces of this and that lay on the bottom of the tank.  I called a guy who does a lot of work in the park here and he gave me an estimate for repairs.  The innards alone and labor would run near $200.00.

Actually, I needed a whole new toilet as the one I had was a bit too low and made it very hard for me to get off.  So he found a 17' high toilet.  I wanted the 21" high, but it was $500.00, just for the toilet.

It took him 2 weeks to schedule me in. It didn't take him an hour to get the new toilet in.  I had purchased a sort of chair like frame--arms--to make it easier for me to push myself up.  They were under $40.00 and they work well.

His invoice?  $450.00.  He then gave me $25.00 off because I paid him cash--sorta under the table?

My bathroom now looks like it was built for an elderly, disabled person, which ticks me off, but I suppose is true.

Now, I'm wondering where the $$$ is going to come from to fix the car.  Probably $250.00 for new muffler and labor.

Ya know?  Somedays I just want to go to bed, refuse to eat and turn my back to the door and ease on outta this world!  I know a few people that have done that.

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Closure?

It's been 4 strange months emotionally for me. I sit in this computer room a lot and the windows face the street. Dar's house is kitty-corner, so every time I look out the windows, there it is.

I have had a hard time even imaging she is gone. I look up and expect to see her car pull into her drive or see her and her Dad walking out to go somewhere or look up; to see her headed over here.

Her house was put up for sale and sold quickly--as do most homes in this park. Her kids had a garage sale last week. I didn't go over. All this past week, her oldest daughter and her partner have been cleaning out the house. People came to buy furniture.

I'd watch as the women went in and out--all day long--carrying loads of stuff--filling up the back of their SUV and coming back with it empty. Donating to Salvation Army, I supposed.

Yesterday, a truck with a box trailer pulled up in front and two men started hauling out large items. Perhaps for a consignment sale? Perhaps to put in an auction?

I felt a great urge to go over. I just wanted to say good-bye to her daughter...that I will never see again in my life. I got my walker out of the back of my car and went over.

She invited me in and a kind of shock hit me. There on the living room carpet were left the imprints of where the couch had sat--her chair, the chair I always sat in, her Dad's chair. He died last week at the age of 100 and 4 months.

The empty house echoed with the sounds of our words.

It hit me.

We hugged, our good-bye words came from thickened throats and tear filled eyes.

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I saw the real estate woman go in the house this morning.

Now, everything will be in reverse--with trucks and vans bringing in furniture.

I hope nice people bought it.

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On a lighter note: My youngest great grand baby that was born prematurely in April. She is six months old now and has such a precious personality. Those big eyes remind me of my daughter, her grand mother Karen, when she was that age.

Well, what can I say that is worth reading?

Ever since last fall, when the mechanic told me that my car was "near death" and I shouldn't really drive it because of the power steering fluid leak, I have only driven 4 mile round trips--to the store and now to PT twice a week, which...oh yes, continues.

I have a condition called Drop-Foot.  Who knows what caused it or when/if it will ever get better.  Then April 1st, my left foot started swelling.  "They" ruled out it was caused by the Drop-Foot as that is not one of the side effects.

My Doc thought I had dropped something on my foot...in July, he declared the swelling was caused by the hot weather.  That Idiot is wrong on both parts.

Coincidentally, this swelling started exactly two weeks after my Johnson& Johnson vaccine shot.

I have been researching and reading and think I have come up with my own self diagnosis--which I've always been pretty good at.

Lymphedema.  Not serious, but no cure.  Lymph nodes in the upper legs aren't draining away the fluids like they are supposed to.  I am now wearing compression socks--which take all my strength and prayers for help, to put on!

I will bring this up when next I see the Idiot Doc.

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As for the car, since last fall I have had 3 deals on getting a different car fall through.  Finally, a friend of my my daughter Karen told her they were selling their daughter's car.  Then they changed their mind.  Then they changed their mind again.

My car is 23 years old.  This car is 12 years old, but looks like it survived a war.  Bumps and bruises on all sides.  Paint missing.  Every time their daughter bumped into something, they didn't fix it as their insurance would have gone up.  It needs a muffler, hubcaps and a driver's side headlight cover.    BUT..........

it runs great!  

They could get $800.00 from the dealer as a trade-in, but because it was Karen's friend and their daughter is a friend of Karen's daughter Maddie, she said, "If it's for Grandma Judy, I want her to have it."

So I had $500.00 to my name....and that's what they said they would sell the car for.  Great, but how to pay for the needed muffler, hubcaps and headlight?

I opened my mail yesterday and there was a greeting card and inside that card was 3, crisp, new smelling $100.00 bills!

I HAVE AN ANGEL!!!!  HER NAME IS JUDY ALSO.  SHE SAID SHE JUST WANTED TO HELP.

My Gosh!  How do you thank someone for a gift like that?

Now I can get the car fixed and hopefully, take a drive up to The Farm.  I haven't been there in 18 months and I am so homesick.

 

 Daughter Karen had a party August 1st for all the birthday's and anniversaries for that month.  We have a lot.

I got to meet my newest great grand girl.  Eliana Katherine.  She was born pre-maturely April 4 and only now weighs 8 pounds.  It was like I was holding a new born, but she was alert, smiling and cooing at me like a 4 month old.

She just kept looking at me all the time I held her.

Karen continues to get my groceries for me and I continue to go twice a week to PT.  It's been almost 4 total months.  

 Well, you'd think I could keep up with this blog more than a post every six weeks!

I'm still in physical therapy--nearly 3 months now.  My legs are getting much stronger, but I have what they call a "Drop Foot" on my left side.  I can't lift my toes off the floor, so I take a step with my right foot, heel-toe, and then my left foot just drops on the ground.  I look very similar to how Frankenstein walks.  

The pain in my lower back is better.  It will never go away, but at least it isn't constant anymore.  

My unreliable car, is still unreliable--I drive it 4 miles-round trip, on Tuesdays and Thursdays to the PT.  That makes me frustrated!  I just want to be able to get in my car and drive up to The Farm and visit my sister and my hometown.

The weeds in my garden are taller than my beautiful Lilies.  My front porch needs to be painted, but my balance isn't good enough yet to do any of those chores.

Mobility issues, they call it.  I know what I'd like to call it, but God told me not to swear anymore.