I just want to thank you all for taking the time to read my posts. This blog has turned from a commentary on current economic conditions to the personal events of my life this summer. I’m not sure which one is more interesting. Personally, I find it therapeutic and beneficial to discuss what has happened and is happening in my life and hopefully describe a life lesson or two.
July was actually kind of uneventful. I had several lunch appointments during the month and several follow up Doctor appointments. My CT scan at the beginning of the month showed my two blood clots that were in the brain had dissolved naturally or maybe miraculous depending on your view, praise God. The maker of my ICD, Biotronik, enrolled me in two research studies. They are studying the leads coming from the ICD and also the impact of the ICD on strokes. I told them my fee would be a paltry $100,000 per study. They found very little humor in that and I’d get the standard nothing.
August however was a different month in my life. I think I might even call it a life-changing event month. I think that would make two in three months, what a great summer. I’m thinking I should ace my report, “What did I do this summer?” when I turn it in to my teacher.
On August 4th I decided to walk ole killer, aka Reagan around 6.45pm. It was hot and humid that evening. I figured the “noose” leash would be best because he actually was learning the word heel pretty good. We walked about three houses down when I got very lightheaded and felt like I needed to either sit down or pass out. I opted for sitting down and took probably a 5-minute break. When I stood up the feeling returned. After another 5-minute break I decided I better just head home, lie down and walk killer another day. I stood up again, walked about 20 feet and had to sit down again. At this point I’m having doubts about my ability to actually return home. I can see the house and know I could probably crawl from where I’m at. After two more stand ups and sit downs, I made it home. I unleashed killer and laid down for an hour.
Being the astute medical patient I am, the next day I figured I’d better call the doctor’s office and report this. After a day of phone tag I finally get a live voice on the morning of August 6th. The nurse says she will pull up my ICD records and in the meantime why don’t I try walking Reagan earlier in the day before it gets too hot. It sounded like a marvelous idea to me. This time I figure I’ll try the pinch collar so killer won’t drag me too far or too fast.
I walked to the end of my street, focusing on my heartbeat, rate and dizziness. So far, so good is what I’m thinking. I turned to walk home, took two steps and the dizziness returned. I’m thinking I need to sit down now, looked at the curb to sit down and pass out. A split second before I hit the curb I regain consciousness, but not in time to put my hands up, and think, “God this is going to hurt!” I hit the curb and think, “God that did hurt!” Blood starts pouring out of my head and face and good old Reagan is there to lick it up. I’m thinking, “Great dog why didn’t you break my fall?” and tell him to sit while I assess the damage.
My glasses were shattered, but I could still see up close. I took my shirt off to figure out where I was bleeding. My forehead was bleeding pretty good as well as the bridge of my nose and my lip. My teeth felt fine which made me feel good. I looked around to see if any neighbors were outside, but I guess at noon everyone is pretty much at work. Still being of sound mind, I think, I decided walking home is probably not an option and it might be time to pull out my trusty iPhone and call somebody.
My good friends Chuck and Laurie come to my rescue, take Reagan and me home, and clean me up. I look in the mirror at my face and think, “Dang this is going to need stitches. I hate stitches. As a matter of fact, I hate pain.” So off to the hospital I go. We walk into the emergency room and I’m thinking they probably know who I am, which is not a good thing. The ER doctor comes in and says, “Yep that’s going to need stitches, but first we need to do a CT scan.” That probably makes 7 or 8 ct scans in the past two months and I’m beginning to wonder what is the annual limit on these things. So the results come back with a slight skull fracture, a fractured nose and an air pocket behind one of my eye sockets.
By now the Biotronik guru is they’re hooking up my ICD to a monitor to get a reading and the cardiologist shows up, Dr. Patel. He tells me I had an 8 second arrhythmia, which the ICD “paced” me out of, and that two days earlier I had had 4 arrhythmia's, which it “paced” me out of. They decide that my ICD needs some fine-tuning to prevent me from hitting the curb again. I’m wishing they tuned me up correctly the first time, but I guess that is how it goes with technology. At least I’m still alive. Yes, I will count my blessings, not my sorrows. But I do deserve some sympathy for the pain don’t I?
Well as the ER doctor is about to start the sewing process, another doctor shows up at the end of my bed. Without the benefit of glasses, I take a stab at maybe that’s the ER doctor (DR. Ramos) that saved my life in June. So I ask him if he is Dr. Ramos and he says yes. He says, “You’re Art Townsend, I saw your name on the monitor. What are you doing in here?” Having not lost my sense of humor despite all of the blood, I replied, “ I just wanted to make sure you guys hadn’t forgot about me.” He laughed and said,”Forgot about you? Art you are a legend in this hospital. We talk about you everyday and the fact you actually walked out of this hospital!” I was like really? He then asked me if I had been calling his receptionist. I said yes, I just wanted 15 minutes of your time to thank you for saving my life. He said you don’t need to thank me. I said yes I do and I really appreciate what you did for me and thank you. He looked at me and said, “Art, I’ve been doing this job for 20 years and you are the 4th person who has ever thanked me.” He then recalled the other three people. I was stunned and asked him surely you get thanked everyday or at least once a week. He said Art all I ever hear is complaints or people cussing me out! That is so sad, so readers if you are ever in the ER please THANK your doctors and nurses.
I’ll finish this in my next post because I’m sure some of you probably have more to do than just read. God Bless you all, Art
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