I think I am "Wal-Mart people"!

   First off, I have to apologize that I have not been writing for a few days. I am trying to get used to my new job, and it has been a little interesting to say the least. Trying to find a life/work balance can be rather interesting. It will come around quickly, but in the mean time a bit of adjustment is in order.

     So over the last few days I have discovered that I have not been drinking enough water. I have had a bit of a headache since last Wednesday, along with feeling a little off. You know, when your brain feels like a shriveled raisin flopping around in you head. Not to mention when you are hot as hell, but you are not sweating. This is a sign of dehydration and says, Hey, Drink some water you big O' dummy. But do we listen? Oh, Hell No! I am bald so I do not have the hair to catch all the sweat like most people. That means my head looks like the hood of a well waxed car right after it rains. The water gets all beaded up, and it can be really uncomfortable. I try to stay cool, but in the heat it is difficult. Perhaps I will need to get approval to wear a hat. I think sweat rolling off a guys head, fits into the stereo type of Big ol Sweaty guy. Now that can be a turn off for people, like selling cars is not already bad enough. I really don't need any additional opposition.

     So yesterday I am wandering through Wal-Mart in my comfy shorts and a wife beater under shirt. What a stereotype. Well I am wandering around the store, thoroughly embarrassing my wife. Although, she has become accustomed to this over the years, so I do not think she even notices anymore for the most part. People stare at you and shake their heads and stuff. And I was actually being on my better behavior yesterday because I was not feeling well. Now here is the thing, I am in my forties and on medications. I have gas like never before, and the gas pills do not help. So I am a guy, and my mind says why fight it? So its fair game to let em fly. I can't exactly hold em, and sometimes when you walk they squeak out with each step. It could be truly embarrassing if you actually cared. Well, I have decided to embrace this new found toy. So when I go to Wal-Mart I get bored pretty quick. I go and look at the men's clothes, and I have found it to be fun to rip off a beauty and disappear, to observe from other places. Inconspicuous places where people would not possibly expect that the stench came from you. I have become quite fond of seeing peoples reactions.

     OK, No I am no where near this obvious. But the reactions people have are funny as hell. I think medication emissions are a bit more offensive than regular as well. So you rip off a beauty, hopefully a silent one, then you slink off around a few racks of clothes or to the end of the aisle, looking like you are entering the aisle. Some unsuspecting person walks into the awaiting brown cloud of death. I think mine have nasty green and purple stripes now. Well, the unsuspecting victim steps into the funk, and "Oh My God" or "Oh Wow" or many other choice things pop out of their mouths. Now this actually makes shopping at Wal-Mart quite entertaining. It does make it very hard not to smile and laugh. 

     So we get to the checkout yesterday to get my happy pills and a bunch of other crap. I have no clue as to why every time we go to Wal-Mart it has to cost about a hundred dollars. I had a cart full of crap, and so did my wife. I went to the 'put Bob out of a Job' checkout, and the wife went and got stuck in a regular line. Imagine that. So they had 2 checkers on duty, and one line was shut down. Then the line they directed my wife to shut down with issues as well. I figure it wont be too long, so I had already grabbed the Ice. I sit down on the bench in front of the checkout my wife was in, and then the line she was directed away from had gotten its price modification done and was going again. Of course there was a line of people that immediately jumped into that line. It was futile to tell the wife to jump over there. So while I am sitting there on the bench, watching the puddle of water grow under my cart from my melting Ice, I begin adjusting the box in my chest. Yes I do tend to play with the box in my chest when I am bored. I suppose its a nervous twitch or something. It only took about 20 minutes for my wife to get through the checkout, being next in line since she got to that line. Oh well. So as people walk by, and see you twisting your ICD, and eating those little junior mints, watching the dripping of water under your cart, they look at you like you are some sort of freak. You look up to see your wife's mouth hanging open like damn, that looks tasty. You see the look on her face and she is trying to get you to smile by making silly faces. Then it hits you. The looks of the people walking by,  the silly faces your wife is making, the water that has now puddled around your shoes, and you are digging in a box of Junior Mints. You think to yourself as you adjust your ICD a little to the right, "Now damn, this ICD is the least of my concerns." A slight smile comes to your face as you look for people taking pictures, I have become Wal-Mart people! Maybe I should get up and get a dress... 

     I hope you got a laugh. Happy Wal-Marting! 

      Keep coming back! more to come.  

  

Farms, Cars and People that know you have died.

     Yesterday was initially awkward, but it became a very good day. I went to meet my step parents at a friend of theirs house. I understand that they hadn't seen each other in 50 years! I was invited out there with my boys to see this mans private car collection, and of course get to see my step parents a bit longer. I have not been able to see Larry and Kaye for many many years. The last time they were through Colorado I was out in the field working, I think in Wyoming, I don't much remember where. I learned that just still being here was enough. They didn't have any questions for me about my incident. They didn't pry at all. What did happen is we had a wonderful visit! I was worried that they would treat me different then before, that is how it goes mostly. But how it turned out is, they were so happy to see me and my family. I could not believe how genuinely happy they still are. I learned an awful lot yesterday, perhaps it was just finally the right time for it to register.

     So when we got there yesterday, it was offered to my boys the opportunity to feed a baby cow. Yes, a calf, but we were introduced to it as the baby. Jake got into the pen and fed the baby. He was thrilled to death to be able to feed a baby cow. I got to speak with Larry and we were catching up a little on the boys ages. We walked around and looked at all the farm equipment, and the out buildings. I learned that Larry's friend had 100 acres, and had a lease of 350 additional acres, also access to an additional 625. His friend had worked for a grocery store for his entire career, and had built every building on this property. As we walked and talked there was not even a hint of curiosity about what had happened to me. It was just as cool and calm as when I learned how to fish. As far as I can remember it was Larry that taught me how to fish, when I was five or six. We talked and it was suggested that my son Jake was about the age I was when I first met Larry and Kaye, conscious memory. I remember driving out to California in my dad's new VW Bus. What a fun trip. Well the memories flood back. Larry's friend  brought down a couple of special animals to show my boys, a mini horse and a burrow.

     It is at this point I figure out that I am a terrible photographer. Well the nice part is that my boys all fed the animals some treats and they had a blast. Yes, I have 3 boys and they were all there, terrible photographer right. OK, so we continue talking, and in my mind I am waiting for the questions to pop up. I don't mind talking about it so much, but I do resent how different people treat you when they learn you have been on the other side. We walk around and we look at the buildings, and we walk inside, there is a Dodge neon, and in the middle of a frame off restoration I think I recall it was a 23 Ford Tudor. Not sure on the year, but fantastic automobile, all I know is I want one. He has a lift in this area and an unbelievable collection of Franklin mint collectible cars. There were also old gas pumps from the 20's and 30's time period. What an awesome garage. So we go into the attached garage and see the custom paint booth. I have not seen a paint booth this trick. What an honor to be invited to see this. Then off the paint booth is yet another garage. There was an 80's Corvette, and a few motorcycles and a 53 Henry, and a 23 Ford model "T" Touring. there was one other vehicle as well. I do not know what it was, as I was drooling over the model "T". Granted the only thing I know was changed on the model "T" is it no longer was a hand crank start. The car is 90 years old and was purchased from the daughter of the original owner. She had learned how to drive in this car. What an awesome thing this was. Again terrible photographer, no pictures at all. The car runs and is straight, absolutely fantastic, even though it looked like it was painted from ten feet with a brush. 

     So the main garage as I call it, had these jewels. What a fantastic private collection! 39 Ford sedan, there was a 56 and 55 Chevrolet Belair's, a 69 Beetle convertible, a 72 challenger, a 33 Chevrolet hot rod with jump seat and me standing in a puddle of drool. The Vette is a 72 and the Caddy is just a care he likes an awful lot. I did not get to go and see what all was in the hangar. I understand there is a 57 Chevrolet and yada yada. There are slot machines and a spotless work shop with every bell and whistle you could want. There is a juke box with all 50's era music, and I just cant express how impressed I was with this. Again, what an Honor! So our visit came to an end, and it was time to head to the house. Larry and Kaye followed me and my boys to the house. Where we sat and visited for a while. I am a terrible host as well, as it was a couple of hours before I offered them a glass of water. OMG! could I really screw this up any worse?? We talked about when we used to go out and see them in California, and they brought me some of the pictures they had from those times. We talked about some friends of that time I have not seen, but remember vividly. Not one question about my health arose. We began talking about the camp grounds that they have owned, and I never got to go see. I forgot to get pictures of them, and when they left last evening, I was happy but saddened. We had such a brief amount of time. 

     I have to get on my feet. I have to be able to go to see them in California. I know they will not be able to travel like this much longer. I do not want there to be 10 damned years between visits. I have to be able to live. I learned that Larry and Kaye had always been in the people business. They have done well for themselves, but most of all they enjoyed their careers and path in life. They always had some time to spend with others, and have always been nothing but loving to me. There was no hint that they had any questions about what had happened to me. There was no hint of having to be cautious about what had happened. There was nothing but us, and the kindness they have always shown me. The kindness they have always shown my entire family. I can not believe that something so positive and genuine can reduce me to tears. They are a little older now then I remember them being, and of course so am I. It would appear that being in the people business may indeed be an awesome way to live your life. It definitely will let you live. 

   For some, the fact you have an ICD will not change the fact they love you! It will not change the fact that some people just flat out care about you, and the time they have with you. The good memories come flooding back, and you have memories of what was. Life is all about memories, and the more positive memories we have the better off we are. I am impressed that all they wanted was to know I was OK, and it seems a visual confirmation was all that it would take. 

 Again, I am the luckiest man on the planet! I do have a lot of support, and I hope you do as well. It would appear that life is not that bad after having gone through this. 

 Keep coming back! 

What we got here is, Failure to Communicate!

   That has to be one of my favorite lines I have ever heard in my life. Another great one is "that which makes you, can also break you" How do these tie in to every day living with an ICD? Well, so far with my experiences it kinda goes a little something like this.....

     If you are fortunate enough for your device to discharge its fury and vengeance upon you, like I have had. When you go to the hospital and get checked out, and spend hours of your day in the ER. Then you may even be admitted to get some new medications, or have existing medications adjusted. Then you may come to the conclusion like I did, that the Doctor will basically say "What we got here is, Failure to communicate". In my case it continued on in my mind any way with "Some men you just can't reach!" Man you just gotta love some of those old movies. Cool Hand Luke was a pretty good older flick. But as it relates to a person and a device, at least in my mind. Perhaps Doctors may need to consider talking to people in terms that normal folks can understand. Instead of You have been selected in psudohedrome studys of macular degeneration of the psudo nuclear reaction of swamp ass gasses floating around the cerebral cortex of Pink Floyd. So what we ARE in Fact going to do about this is, Get in out space alien suits wit 8x10 color glossy pictures with circles and arrows showing the crime scene. Then we are going to drill a hole into your aorta and send a bore scope up I-25 to the 277 exit and do a warp factor 10 slingshot about your spleen and finally into a time travel loop with a cork screw projectile we stab into the lower left ventricle. Say what?

      I may be inclined to better understand something like this. Well what happened to you is you croaked. It took a grand total of 21 attempts to jump start you, because your pump was acting like an 61 Dodge on a brisk January morning. As you can tell, we did get you fired up again, but we know you need a little power in your corner. So we are going to install this jump box into you. No sir, you really do not have a choice, we are going to do it whether you agree or not. While you were unconscious, we were on it like a "Duck on a June bug!"  So something like this is much better understood. If we break it down a bit further it goes something like this. You died, we killed the jump box trying to re start you, and you will receive an outstanding bill for that. We are going to make you a cyborg, and NO you do NOT have a choice. We will install this tomorrow morning! It is simple and to the point. It really leaves no room for discussion at the end. How simple can it be. Do they use the fancy talk to make it seem less harsh then it really is? I am not sure but it drives me nuts.

     I swear they must hit up the wacky weed before they talk to us! And when you are in surgery, they look a lot like this too. Well that could honestly be drug induced. OK, So I agree they could talk in a bit of a manner that can be understood by everyone. " And that's how you get what we had here last night, which is the way he wants it! Well, He gets it!"



      The next one is "That which makes you, can also break you!" I do not remember where I got that line, but it fits a lot of applications. I think it fits this situation as well. Face it, your heart is a pump and without it you are quite finished. So if you break your heart, you will be finished. Similar to if money makes you, when you get canned it will certainly break you! So the thing I now associate that with is, take care of your heart, as its the only one you have. You would thing that they would have come up with a small pump that they could install to keep you going. But it it that we as humans can not exactly adapt to that? I do not know, but it is food for thought. Perhaps even as advanced in technology as we are, we are still in the dark ages. They make huge advances all the time in the medical field. And it would appear that we are on the cutting edge of technology. I have seen some of the older defibrillators and compared to mine, they are huge. It looks like they are about the size of a pack of smokes. I am glad that comparatively mins is very small. It is incredible that they have some of them that do not even need the wire to the heart now as well. How cool is that? The best part is as they get smaller, they also will have a better understanding of how to set them up for fewer misfires. From my point of view, all misfires are a bad thing. But I have to look at it another way as well. I know it works. Damn. I am wondering if it is like a cattle charger for an electric fence, you know, the one with the picture of an upside down cow on it.

   Wow, any rancher would love to have us on hand in the event of a power outage. Here, lick your fingers and hold these two wires until the power comes back on. Well damn. That brings more ideas to mind. Maybe they should have the option for leads to be hanging out of your chest, so when the car has a dead battery you can jump start it. Or maybe when your power goes out, you can still use the flashlight you have been meaning to but batteries for. Perhaps you are a paranormal investigator, the ghosts could use your battery to communicate, One shock for yes, two for no. lol. There are a lot of possibilities, cell phone back up battery, lap top computer etc etc.  OK, well I hope this makes you laugh a little. We all can use it here and there.


   Keep coming back! there is more to come.

Pain, lets you know you are alive! Nightmares make you wish you were not.

  What a rough night! I woke up about every 14 minutes in severe levels of pain. I woke every time grabbing my chest and wanting to scream out and cry. I can not believe sometimes how impossible it becomes to get a good nights sleep. When you have the pain in your chest, I do not think it matters whether it is deep or surface pain, but it will wake you in a panic. I have learned that becoming accustomed to pain is eventually going to be my down fall. If you wake grabbing your chest, it may be in your best interests to wake up and adjust things to eliminate the pain. I find I am so pissed off that I have chest pain, and that I am so convinced that it is my device that I force myself to go back to sleep and ignore it as best I can. How in the hell am I going to continue to live like this? Why does it have to hurt like hell and disrupt such blissful sleep? Why is this happening?

     As this man says in the movie VanHelsing. " I am accustomed to pain"  Yes, it does let you know you are alive! There is nothing like laying in bed and feeling like someone is twisting a knife around in your chest. It makes breathing difficult and you begin to sweat. You lay there grasping your chest, initially you think you are having a heart attack. Your left arm is numb, and the pain in your chest grows. You lay flat on your back, or attempt to sit up and this pulls your chest flat once again and you feel your device lay down again, evening out the pressure over your pectoral muscle. You lay there with water leaking from your eyes, because it hurts so bad. I still am impressed at exactly how bad it does actually hurt at times. I have had serious injuries over the years that did not hurt even close to as bad as this does at times. Usually I can get my mind wrapped around it and just ride it out. Last night was a little different. I have not felt the pain like that before, and I really do not care to have that again. How is it that when you wake grabbing your chest that you can be silent? How is it that the pain in ones chest can be so unbearable that it wakes you in agony, yet we are still able to keep our cool and not wake our loved ones? How is it that something that has been an internal part of you for a couple years can still inflict that kind of pain? It is days like this that you really contemplate having the nerves severed. I refuse to have that done simply because I maintain the thought that this ICD is not permanent.

     What I wouldn't give to sleep like this once again! I do not know about you, but when I have chest pain I have screwed up dreams as well. I find it impressive that I can be dreaming of gardening and twist it into pain. I can pluck a radish out of the ground, and as I clean it it develops a bulge in what I assume is its chest. Then it grows a face and begins screaming. It appears that electrical currents start arching out of the bulge in its chest, then  the ICD comes tearing its way through the skin, clawing and digging it's way out. It turns and grabs the wire and tugs, pulls and yanks until the wire starts to pull through the skin. The wire rips its way across the bulge and suddenly stops. The ICD positions it's self and gives a final heave and the wire comes out, still attached to a pulsing piece of flesh, I assume this represents a piece if the heart. Then I wake grasping my chest and feeling the pain and how severe it is. But silently dealing with it so I do not wake loved ones. I wonder how much longer I can handle this? Is this the beginning of my decent into madness? At times I truly do wonder. I wonder how long it takes the pain to break me down enough to where I really can't focus enough to hold down a job? I wonder if it is something that is eventually going to land me on disability? There are so many questions I have about what is happening, and what I get when I ask the question is a vague answer. There should be counseling in place to deal with the questions of patients with ICD implants. There needs to be a way of having them be pain free, so one does not fear the device. The mental tolls at time become quite large. But this is life. Life does not stop because I have nightmares, it still continues on. Life does not stop, I still have to support my family, I still have to function. No matter how bad it hurts to move my arm, I still have responsibilities. I must move forward and not dwell on my pain. I wonder what lesson this is trying to teach me, should everything happen for a reason. What is the message, and once I learn it will the pain and nightmares subside?  

     One of my favorite Happy Place pictures. From the movie Happy Gilmore. I try to spend some time in my happy place when I have no\nightmares, but somehow the pain will twist those thoughts as well. I do not know if there is any cure. A tranquil island has its dangers as well, and your mind will make it so you cant find peace. I suppose the only thing to do when this happens is to get up and take a Tylenol or something and ride it out. Maybe watch a funny movie, or if you are brave enough a scary one. I suppose it will depend on your tastes as an individual. 

 Keep coming back! More to come.