HalfAsstic.com

Hi, people!  How is every little thing?  That was completely rhetorical. Please refrain from answering aloud. Although I am always interested in communicating with you all via conventional methods.

It is late at night and John and I took a late nap today and totally screwed up our sleep schedules.  He is sitting in the riff raff room downloading some music and at the moment playing Wooly Bully obnoxiously loud.

I am sitting at the dining room table, or as we have come to know it around here, HACK.  That would be HalfAsstic Central Komand.  Appropriate, no?

My surroundings are a bit… disheveled.  I am overflowing with tiny little yellow pads of paper with  a variety of lists on them and notes that are, (quite obviously), not helping me a bit with posting ideas.  There is also a large stock pot that my dear friend Lisa had made a huge pot of Taco Soup in and brought over when John got out of the hospital.  It has since been eaten, (twice, and taken back to get her to make more of it), washed and I made stew in it.  I do need to go out and invest in a nice stock pot.  Anyway, I washed the thing again and sat it on my table to give back to her when I see her next.  Oh and there’s a purse that the lining is ripped in for her grandmother to sew up for me, (hopefully), on her sewing machine.

Ever have a purse you really like and the zipper pocket gets a hole in the bottom of it and everything ends up running around in your purse between the lining and the leather?  I hate that.  There is like NEVER a lipstick when you want one.  And it’s really not a very big purse, yet I have to bury my arm up to my elbow to get any particular thing out of it.  And then I start finding things I don’t want and then things I’ve never seen before and eventually one of Jimmy Hoffa’s shoes comes out of it and it’s just time to sew the damn thing up already, right?

I’m gonna go and pour a drinkypoo.  Wordpress spell check underlined drinkypoo.  Clearly, they don’t know what they’re talking about.  Of course they also put the red line under Wordpress, so I’m not looking for too high a standard.

Why isn’t “every time” one word.  I really, really, really want it to be and constantly try to make it one.  Is there someone I can petition to get this rectified?  Everyday is one. Sometime is one.  Everywhere is one.  Why the hell isn’t everytime?  I Googled it and there are a gazillion songs that have it as Everytime.   However it is either not in the dictionaries or it is and it says it is the incorrect spelling. I think I am now worked up enough to consider myself outraged.  (No, it doesn’t take much…)  Let’s all pull together and thumb our noses at the hate mongers who write the dictionaries and write the word as EVERYTIME.

Are you with me people?  Just think!  If we can get this changed, next we’ll move on to thumb!  What the hell is with that stupid “b” anyway?

Free toes, everybody!

I don’t know if I ever mentioned it on my soggy bloggy or not, but the last time I was visiting Mither and Pop, my glasses got broken. And I mean in a big way.

Note the photographic evidence:

They are missing both lenses.  And have been run over, literally.

Anyway, so all I have is this one pitiful little pair of reading glasses that are, (used to be), the right prescription for me to read with, and that’s it.  No more seeing distance or medium range for me, it’s way over rated anyway.

So John really likes my little pair of glasses.  He says they’re cute and calls them my “tiger eyes”.  I have no idea why.  I told him they are tortoise shell and he insists they are to be called “tiger eyes”.  Keelan, ever observant Keelan, has decided that if her dad is going to call them “tiger eyes” and I am saying they are “tortoise shell”, she needs to have something to call them, too and has chosen… “bunny fluff”.  You may think this odd, but it is true to nature, typical Keelan.

Well, I keep losing them cause I take them off when I need to look at anything more than 24″ from my face and I tend to lay them down.  Anywhere.  So there has been a near constant search going on for my glasses at this house.  Today I thought I left them at Target and was full of despair when we got home.  Kee heard us talking about the loss of the glasses and then John went in the bedroom and came out.  I wasn’t looking at him and all of the sudden Keelan said, “Bunny Fluff!”  He was wearing my glasses just to pick at me and I had left them in the bathroom when I brushed my teeth this morning.

So off to buy me one of these handy dandy contraptions!

Now I am better attached to my tiger eyes or tortoise shell glasses… or bunny fluffs.

Huh.  Bunny fluffs.  That Keelan does have a funny way of naming things.  John is wearing this contraption that is a defibrillator  and will be in it for the next 3 months, until his cardiologist decides if he thinks he can go without or if he needs to have a permanent one implanted in his chest.

The thing is a bit bulky and constricting and John really dislikes wearing it.  So every time he leaves the house Keelan perks up and says, “Dad! Are you wearing your flux capacitor?”

The really funny thing is she has never even seen “Back To the Future”.  Just seen lots of skits and Youtube tributes to it.  And, of course, the aforementioned “flux capacitor” is always mentioned in these clips.

Which brings me to another point.

Damn! Michael J. Fox was adorable in that movie!

OK, last night I had a duzie of a dream.  So bizarre it’s reset the standards.  Well, mine anyway.

First of all there was this really large rocky…pond in the middle of this area and a beautiful, high dollar ultra modern house on the east side.  Yes, I can tell direction, even in my dreams… just one of the many joys of being me… I was on the south side of it and there was a rotund man, that I was doing surveillance of, getting in a truck on the west side, opposite the house.  It was very important that he not see me and I knew that there was a road going along the other side of the pond that he would take to go back to his house.  But I also knew it was very important that I make it back to his house before him so I could sneak in and meet my other undercover buddy.  She and I had wormed our way into the household staff, apparently.

Then, as suddenly as a scene change on TV I was in his study with my accomplice, (She was wearing a kitchen uniform and apparently I was some sort of secretary or some such thing…it’s just as well, I would freak out at having to cook for a bad guy.)  We were looking for “the information“.

Yeah, I don’t know what information either but apparently it was located on floppy disc.  And not that smaller size one that was such a neat thing ages ago.  No. I’m talking the big 51/4″ one that originally came out and held 1.44MB of priceless information.  Or whatever you wanted to put on it.

It was in the bottom drawer of his desk! Along with a bunch of other discs, but I stuck my hand in there and came out with the exact right one.

I mean, of course.

I know. You were expecting me to break into a safe, huh?  Can you believe my weird imagination wouldn’t go that far?  Apparently somewhere in the dark recesses of my sub-conscience I was saying, “Are you crazy? I don’t know how to crack a safe.”

So then my accomplice and I were on the move and I lost track of her.  Apparently she was only there to give me support and make me look good?  I dunno.  She was wearing the kitchen uniform. Maybe she was supposed to fix me a snack.  She didn’t and she sucks.

Scene change and I am trying to get away from the bad guy who wants his disc back, (and has no trouble finding it in my hand cause the damn thing is too big to go in my pocket!), I am wearing jeans now and not the pencil skirt and blouse I was earlier, and this is much more conducive to running from people.  Especially bad guys.  As in most of my dreams, wardrobe changes go unnoticed.

Did I mention that I am lying down in a tunnel trying to crawl away from fatty and he is reaching in grabbing at my ankles?  Yep.  It was like a big air conditioning duct.

Or a coffin.  Whatever.

Anyway, I’m sure you can guess what woke me up.  He was grabbing at my feet and ankles so I was kicking and wriggling… and I kicked for real and woke up.

But I still had the floppy disc when I did, so I win.

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

We are home from the hospital and I am just kind of wallowing around in guilt.  We have been here since the 15th.

That’s right.  Almost a week as I type this.  I am a horrible person for not updating everyone sooner.  But, I am also a tired, and never gonna get caught up with anything person.  You know…. that kind.

John is just tired.  All the time.  I have tried to get him to mow the yard help him sleep in anyway I can, but his sleep is restless at best.  The cardio guy has him on blood pressure meds that keep it really, really low so this is a lot of the problem.  I think the rest of it is that not eating salt and carbs has sapped his will to live.  I know it would mine.

Thursday, October 22, 2009

SEE?  I fully intended to finish that and throw it out to the blogosphere last night!  I suck!

We did go to the cardiologist yesterday and got his Lasix increased by half again and his blood pressure meds decreased by half.  So, all in all, he feels much better today.

Does anyone out there have any idea how hard it is to cook diabetic recipes with NO SALT.  Both?  At the same time?  I mean it’s doable… just yucky tasting.  I made stew tonight.  With low sodium tomato sauce, V-8 Juice and stewed tomatoes.  And, of course, stew meat, potatoes, carrots, cabbage, onion and garlic.  It tastes good, just needs to cook on  low for a while longer to get the meat tender.   I sprinkled some of that “Nu Salt” on it and went very lightly with it since it tastes like gym socks… Not that I would know, but… well.

OK, whatev!   John is feeling rather hardier today and this is VERY gratifying.  He is going to get his flu shot tomorrow.  I know what you’re thinking. (Yes I do!)  You’re wondering why on earth a heart patient would ever leave the hospital without his flu shot this time of year. (YES, YOU ARE! SHEESH!)  Because he’s the biggest tightwad heart patient ever!  When they offered him a flu shot, (multiple times), in the hospital, he pictured the free one he could get from his employers.  He works for a major supermarket chain and they have pharmacies in each one.  Employees are all given a free flu shot.  So he declined the ones offered in the hospital.  And got some eye rolls from me, that probably went totally un-noticed.

There are 6, (SIX), flu shots left at one of the near by stores and they are saving one for him.

There are no N1H1 shots in Texas.  What about you guys?  I am really curious about this so please let me know if your state/country has them and if you have gotten or are going to.

Henrietta has no idea about what all has gone on.  Well, of course she knows he was in the hospital, but I told her he had a bad case of pneumonia.  She has cried for every new person that has come to the house.  I think the last ones were my parents.  They went home a few days ago.

With each person she goes into a sniffling thing and says repeatedly. “He’s my oooooonly sooooooon!” My mom told John that she feels sure if he had a passel of brothers his mom probably wouldn’t care so much.  Of course she was teasing him!

Please come visit me… she needs “new meat” to cry on…

So there!  I am NOT going to go on and on and on!  And tomorrow morning I am going to start reading posts, SO HELP ME GAWD!

I love you guys so much and appreciate the lovin and well wishes more than I can say!  I can assure you of one thing!  I never felt alone!

I swear, I can’t remember the last time I was this frustrated, (that doesn’t have to do with parenting).  We took our happy little asses home and the first night was great.  We both slept like the dead.

However, the next day John began having some sharp pains in his left side.  He said it felt a lot like the catch you get in your side from running, only worse.  These pains began keeping him up at night and he had shortness of breath with them  as well.

So I called the damn doctor and told the damn doctor what was going on and she said to go to the damn ER.  We did and got in pretty quick when the ER nurse took his history, considered his latest symptoms and did a test on his pancreas.

Pancreatitis.

Damn.

So here we sit.  Again.  It’s like a nightmare we can’t wake up from.

The thinking is that the pancreas is the handy little gizmo that makes insulin and we know his isn’t anymore.  So there’s something up with that, but what?

Well, “they” did a cat scan after he got to drink 10 delicious ounces  of barium and found, nothing.  Well, nothing outside the norm except an inflamed pancreas.  They don’t know why or what’s causing it.  Maybe it’s jealous because it can’t spit out insulin anymore and we now have other sources.   I dunno.

*deep sigh*

I am so emotionally drained and just plain tired I can’t think straight.  I have a bunch of pictures to put on here, (Some of them even funny!), only I forgot the deal to put the camera card in at home.

There is some good news.  Mither and Pop are here!  they showed up last night to help with, well, everything.  And that sure is nice to know!  Hopefully they can get the house, Henrietta and the girls whipped into shape before we get home.

Geeze! If they can do that, coming to the hospital may be worth it!

I am exhausted, people.  I swear I will begin reading you all again soon… soonish. Oh, hell, I really have no idea when this will all end, but I’ll be back sometime, I promise.

I am not proofing this so please forgive me for any bizarre errors.  I’m just gonna hit publish and go with it.

Well, the good news is very, very good news.  They re-ran the blood test for cancer and it was negative.  So the “diagnosis” part of the report was incorrect and quite possibly meant for someone else.  Poor bastard, I wonder if they ever bothered to tell him/her?  Anyway, very, very, VERY happy about that one!  Woo-hoo and all that happy crap.

Not to mention, the angiogram showed no evidence of blockages or narrowings.  Just a weakened, enlarged heart that was pumping ineffectively at about 15 to 20 percent now, and that is supposed to be a much more accurate number than the amount we were previously quoted, which was 30%.

So, on we go to the present situation where the two cardiologists get together and agree that there is a blood clot in his heart that was seen during the heart catherization.  Otherwise known as the angiogram.  They told us we will need to be here for another two to three days.  Meanwhile I am still waiting on the endocrinologist I asked for yesterday and I was told he should be here sometime today. It is ten till five and I am betting a bundle that ain’t gonna happen.  But it’s not like we’ve got anywhere else to be so, whatever.

So we thought we’d be going home on Monday and found out it would be Tuesday before they could do the angiogram.  Then, we needed to wait until we could see the guy to “fit” John with a monitor, so it would be Wednesday.  Now, he has this bloodclot that they began treating with Coumadin last night and it will be, “two or three days”.

I think these people have a crush on us and don’t want us to leave.

I am blown away by the response from all of you.  Thank you so much for all your love, support and suggestions.  I am so blessed to have all my blogging buddies for friends.  I have even heard from some new people due to some of you sending people that might know something about our problems over here to weigh in.  I’m talking to you, Nan!  Thank you so much!  I’m going to start answering emails tonight so I WILL get to you soon!  Thanks you guys!

Maybe the title of my last post jinxed us.  Because, honestly, the thought of me just not knowing when to shut up is about the best explanation I have for why this is happening.

Let’s do a quick recap, shall we?

• October 1, Thursday

John was admitted to Clear Lake Regional Heart and Vascular Hospital by his new GP after he had done an xray that showed a very clear case of plural effusion that even I could see was bad news on the film.  His doctor remarked how hard to believe it was that John, standing there looking for all the world like his only problem was a nagging cough was the same guy on the xray.  He said he would have thought he’d be in bed saying he couldn’t get out.

Bad.

He then admitted him to the hospital and his blood sugar, upon admittance, was in the 500 range.  I can’t remember exactly and it was before I was keeping my own record.  (Yes, that’s right, I refuse to go the the nurses station and find out, so get over it.)  His blood pressure was 134/98 and his heartbeat was 121.  Quite fast.

• October 2, Friday

I only recorded the vitals 5 times this day and the lowest his blood pressure got was 95/64 and the highest was 120/96.  They were pumping him full of blood pressure meds and lasix to get the swelling down.  His legs, ankles, and belly were very swollen.

Highest blood sugar was 325 and he got 15 units of insulin for that one particular reading.

FYI, blood sugar levels should never be over 160.

He had several bouts with diarrhea, probably due to stress and nerves.

Cardiologist said that his heart was working at about 30%.  He didn’t bother telling us until later that the norm is between 45 and 55% or somewhere around there.  Doctors are such dumb-asses sometimes.

I stayed up a long time that night watching him sleep.  He has, what I found out on the internet is, central sleep apnea.  I made a video of him sleeping with my camera and considered posting it on youtube.  Figured he’d shoot that down and haven’t brought it up to him yet.

• October 3, Saturday

Here it is Saturday and he, apparently, has no intention of taking me out to eat anywhere.  Where did we go wrong as a couple?

His blood pressure stayed low all day and his heart rate right around 100.  Blood sugar was right around 250 all day as well.

He had three bouts of extreme shortness of breath in the early AM.

Went for a cat scan around 3:00pm and the results weren’t that good.  Still signs of fluid in and around his lungs BUT, a rhythm in his soul.

Then his cardio guy told us that he had had a heart attack and the reason this was evident was the presence of an enzyme in his blood called troponin.  If I had a son I think I’d like to name him Troponin.

What was I saying?  OH, Yeah!  My husband had a heart attack.  Slipped my mind for a moment.  (read sarcasm here)

• October 4, Sunday

His blood pressure was, of course, low all day.  His heart rate averaged about 100, and his blood sugar topped out at 396.  He received 15 units of insulin more than once that day.

He received a shiny new IV port for the procedure that everyone seemed to think was going to happen tomorrow, except the doctor who saw the chest films and heard all the coughing he was doing.

See he can’t have the procedure until he can lie flat in bed for at least 6 hours without moving.  This is to allow the entry wound in the groin heal so that if he moves and blows the clot, he won’t bleed out and die in minutes.  It’s a good thing, as Martha would say.

HOWEVER, he is still coughing due to the fluid in and around his lungs.  He has had enough lasix to dry up The Great Lakes.  I am beginning to wonder what it will take.

• October 5, Monday

Oh. My. Gawd.  This has been a day I will never forget.  John wasn’t well enough to do the angigram, still.  It is definitely planned for tomorrow.

You know, I have had this feeling in my gut that something wasn’t right since this whole thing started.  It seems like years ago, but it was just last Thursday.   It is now 5 days since he was admitted.  I just keep repeatedly thinking about him going to the doctor on February 27 because he was concerned about losing a lot of weight very rapidly and told the doctor he was worried that he might have diabetes.  Said doctor preformed some blood tests and asked him lots of questions.  Tried to get him to do the colonoscopy, and John turned that down.  But he seemed to be fairly thorough.  I was a little bit on pins and needles wondering what the results were going to be.  I very much expected him to be diabetic just because it would be a very nice reason for the weight loss compared to what all had been running through my mind.  Cancer.  Though I never said it.

The day came when the nurse from the doctor’s office called and told John his test results.  That’s right, the nurse.  Automatically, we know the results are negative for everything from liver disease to athletes foot.  Because the nurse doesn’t deliver bad news, the doctor gets you in his office to do that.  In person.

So she ended up telling him that everything was good to just get his cholesterol down some it was a tad high.

He specifically asked what the diabetes testing showed.  She said negative. This just does not gel.  John has had a test since he got here called an A1C that graded an 11.  “They” said it should be no more than a 7 and this is pretty bad.  But they assured me that he has had the diabetes for more than 3 months and they know this for sure because of the test.  So since he supposedly didn’t have it in February and he couldn’t possibly developed it after July, I am supposed to believe he just magically developed it the five months in between and it got so bad so fast that he was admitted to the hospital with his blood sugar in the 500’s?

Clearly something is off.

So fast forward to today and picture me sitting around in this hospital room with a very sick husband for the last 5 days and know that I am going to get to the bottom of this.  I called the doctor’s office this morning and asked them to make a copy of his file for me, and I would come by and pick it up later this afternoon.  The lady did and I got it, tore it open in the car and started pouring over it.  The first thing I noticed is his blood sugar was 272. IT WAS EVEN CIRCLED.   Then again on another page it says glucose 2+ along with protein 2+ and ketones 1+.  I don’t know what all of these are but the glucose amount was circled as well.

So at this point I am furious because they found out he had diabetes back in February and didn’t tell us.  If they had NONE of this would have happened in all likelihood.  Every doctor we have seen in this hospital has told us that the heart condition was brought about by the untreated diabetes.  So if this doctor, that shall remain unnamed for the time being, had told us about it we would have begun treating it immediately and gotten it under control way back then.

Now let me tell you why I became a bit hysterical earlier.  (Geeze, it’s 1:35am.  Ok, it was yesterday.)

At the bottom of one of the pages it says, “Diagnosis: 1. Malignant neoplasm without specification of site; other (199.1), Primary Diagnosis, Onset  2. Abnormal loss of weight (783.21), Secondary diagnosis, Onset”

Cancer.

He has a cancer that, well, I will just link to it because it is pretty clear and succinct. And you may have noted with all the extra gibberish that I am anything but succinct tonight.

So.  Here we are EIGHT MONTHS LATER.  I found a nurse when I got here and asked her to verify my findings and she agreed. (OR, did she concur?)  I asked if they had done a PSA test here and she said no, that was a test for cancer and they hadn’t done one.  It was about 7:30pm so I am going to wait until after the angigram tomorrow and then ask his cardio dr. to do one and show him why.  Then, if it’s really true and this isn’t just some really, really bad cosmic joke, I’ll find an oncologist.

Now, my question for you.  It is almost 2:00am and my nerves are shot.  I am so sorry this was so long and rambling.  You regular guys know that I usually try to keep the posts to a manageable size.  And definitely lighter in mood.  If, in fact, you are still with me, please tell me what you think you’d do.  I am not a violent person at all but, I really have a distinct desire to bodily attack that original Dr.   Do I get an attorney?  What to do?  Please ask other people that you think might know if you can come up with any.

I am Just. So. Angry.  and scared.

I am sitting here feeling overwhelmed.  And I have pushed everything out of my mind except just “do a post”.  John is sitting here, asleep on and off, in that chair they have in most all hospital rooms that reclines all the way out for someone to sleep on because he is sick of the bed.  I’m in the bed.  It hasn’t been that long since I posted and yet an eternity seems to have gone by.  Time has no meaning here, it seems.  It just wanders around and unpredictably slows down and races forward leaving me wondering why one thing is taking so long and how it’s possible to already have results from something else so fast.  What happened to yesterday when things were so much better?  Will tomorrow ever finally just GET HERE?

It seems the hits just keep on coming.  Here is a 52 year old man that has never in his life been in the hospital.  Has never missed a single day of work in all the 10 years he’s worked for the Kr**er Company.  At 6 feet some odd inches tall and all shoulders, he’s  always been a formidable enough man to scare the hell out of Kes and Keelan’s boyfriends when they were in high school.  Now, we’re told he’s had a mild heart attack and he won’t ever be able to get rid of the excess fluid in and around his lungs until his heart is back working correctly and can “pump it off”.  He has been on massive amounts of lasix since we got here and has finally gotten rid of most of the swelling in his limbs and belly from all the fluid.  However the fluid in and around his lungs is being produced faster than the lasix can keep up.  Because the heart can’t pump hard enough to get it gone.

Something like that.  You would be amazed to know the extent of the crash course I have taken in cardiac terminology.

So now on Monday they are going to do an angiogram.  Or sometimes it’s called a catheterization.  They will run a tube from his groin up through his body into his heart and put dye into it that way.  The x-ray will pick up the dye very well and indicate where it is able to go and not go.  Hence, they will be able to see what all is damaged, why, and, hopefully, how to fix it.  Hopefully with medicine.  If not that, with a stint or a balloon.  And, I guess worst case scenario would be open heart surgery.

I am scared and he is just plain depressed.  He has always been a fairly pessimistic person, I mean he’d have to be having been raised by Henrietta, right?  But, he is really down about all this.  He keeps saying things like, “Our lives are never going to be the same, now.”  And I tell him that even if this hadn’t happened our lives change everyday anyway.  But that’s not what he’s trying to say and I know it.  However, my attitude is you just have to buck up and handle it.  I have got a ton of literature on diabetes and he is quite despondent about the whole change in menu that is about to take place.  I am seeing a great opportunity for him to get healthier and feel better than he’s been feeling.  And I’ll lose weight, too!

Well, I have probably bored you all to tears with this emotional, rambling, drivel.  I will try to hit it again tomorrow if I can find the time and energy.  I am SO sorry that I haven’t been a good blog reader lately.  I am feeling like it’s all I can do to get phone calls made and emails answered.  This post is just to give everybody a heads up as to what’s going on and to tell you thank you so much for all you guy’s kind words and love and prayers.

You guys are tops and I love you all.

PS I promise to make a really good stab at getting back to reading YOUR posts soon!

People, this seems most surreal.  As you may recall yesterday, I dished out the story of John’s loverly plural effusion and the promise that we were going to either go to the ER during the night or make it in to see the pulmonary specialist in the morning.

Well, we made it until the morning and went to see the breath doctor, the H2O honcho, the wizard of wheezing, the pulmonary prince.

The man with the plan.

He turned out to be very nice and reassuring and yet, here we are.  In the hospital.

In the heart hospital.  John’s diagnosis of a simple pulmonary effusion is now also a cardiomyopathy of the extrinsic variety.   This heart disease was most likely caused by a virus, (that he caught from some miserable excuse for a human being that didn’t wash their hands?), that attacked his heart.  We have run the gammit with the tests and while John’s math and spelling skills are above average his English Lit. is about a C.  Er… wait a minute.  OH!  Wrong paper!  Sorry bout that.  No, his test results show a variety of things that conclude this way: He will be recovering for the next 4 to 6 months and he’s now a diabetic.  This last part is a very recent development since he was at the doctor about 5 months ago for a check up and everything was fine then.

We will be here for a few days and by then all the swelling will be gone and his coughing as well, since the excess fluid is what is causing it.  Then, we will escape.  And all the while, my SIL is at my house taking care of Henrietta. (Oh, and I forgot to mention that H is developing a nasty UTI right this very minute.)  I am in here with John and my SIL has to deal with all that shit and, yes, I am a petty, hateful, little bitch that really couldn’t care less.  Hee hee!  There’s nothing keeping us from just leaving and going to Mexico or Colorado or Europe!  Yeah!  That is where you’ll find us!  Just don’t tell our family.