A Whiff of Mortality

The title is stolen from Garrison Keillor who said the phrase last night in the "Prairie Home Companion" show live from Moody Coliseum on the campus of Abilene Christian University. We had tickets to the show but did not get to go. Instead, Be and I listened to the show together, just the two of us, in room 6717 of Hendrick Hospital. Actually we only heard the first 1.5 hours of the show as a satellite link was lost for the last half hour of the show. NPR filled in with the last part of some former show. I may get to listen to the last part of it this afternoon on the recorded replay. Our tickets were not wasted. We were able to give them to Roberta Brown and Totsy Alderton, both of whom are members of the University Church of Christ where we attend. Totsy's husband was a former elder of the UCC who recently died suddenly of a heart attack during the night. Some of her children were in town and were going to the show so she was looking for a ticket. The fact that Totsy's husband recently died suddenly was a poignant moment for me because I thought specifically of him at 7:56 am Thursday morning. (More about that later.) We were pleased to provide tickets for these two sweet women, yet our tightwadiness showed up. We bought the cheapest tickets and apparently they were quite high up in the arena.

Becky was signed up to go to the Croptoberfest on Friday night and Saturday. She did not go. I told her that she should go because she needs to get the Pagosa Springs photo album put together. But I knew that she would not go. In fact, I knew that I would have made the same decision that she did if I were in her shoes.

I was scheduled to play golf Thursday afternoon but I did not do that. Instead I had chest X-rays, had an EKG, and listened to the blood pulse through my legs. It was during that last medical exam that I had the whiff of mortality. Because of all the missed opportunities listed above, I was planning to title this blog with "What a Revolting Development This Is" until I heard Keillor's phrase. You see, I had walked to school Thursday morning, and I had walked back to the car as we were headed to the doctor's office. I had walked into, and out of, the doctor's office. I had walked into the radiology area of the hospital, and then to the lab where the X-ray was taken. At this moment I do not remember when the EKG was done, but it was.

So I was finally on the examination table and a woman was getting up close and personal with me while examining the veins in my legs, including the upper-most veins in my legs. One leg was finished with no trouble found. In fact, I was giggling several times during the exam because the lady would turn on the sound and listen to the blood pulsing through the vein under scrutiny. It sometimes sounded like whales sound in the ocean, but then she would press lightly on my leg and the blood flow rate would increase with a sound like rrooooeeeeeEEEEEoour. You will need to hear my imitation some time. But finally the examiner's demeanor became more serious, and she said that she had found a clot. She went to get someone else to double check her finding, and also brought Be back to the examination room with her. The second person verified the results, and they said that they would call the doctor and start the procedure for me to be admitted to the hospital immediately. It had been since before 7:30 that morning that I had used the bathroom so I asked if I could go use the bathroom. "NO!" was very emphatically said. I was not allowed to get up! I could have used a plastic bottle, but my enthusiasm for using the bathroom was gone. I finally realized clearly that I almost died at 7:56 am when I had to stop walking to school because I was so out of breath. It was like I used to feel when I had just finished running the mile race in a high school track meet except that I could not recover my breathing nearly as quickly. I even had the bloody taste that I would get because I had used the deeper parts of my lungs that had not been used in a while. It was at that time Thursday morning that I thought of Jack Alderton and his heart attack. But I really did not think that I was having an attack because I felt no pain in my left arm. I just could not breath in enough oxygen.

I now know that it was foolish of me to slowly force my way on to school, but we do not have hindsight when making decisions. And I certainly did not want those students to be deprived of taking my wonderful exam that I had created for them. So I went on. And I made it. Now I have this inner feeling that my life is not worthless, nor is it to be wasted. I already had those feelings before but they are magnified somewhat now.

Please let me return to the saga of the hospital admission experience. They soon found me a room, and these two poor women tried to hoist me from the exam table to the gurney. I finally just scooted over on my on, and they seemed to appreciate it. They were also glad that I did not have lung failure in the process. I was rolled through the hospital to a room, I again scooted onto the room bed, and they told me to NOT get out of bed. Later I was scooted onto another cart and they transported me to a lung exam. I had to breath in some radiated air and hold my breath as long as I could while they took pictures of my lungs from several angles. I held my breath for almost a minute an a half. So you can see that I am not an invalid!. The pictures showed at least two pulmonary emboli in my right lung, and a larger one in my left lung. All indications are that the larger one was what caused my difficulty breathing on Thursday morning and the other two had happened before Thursday morning. It was about 4:45 when the results were coming out of the machine, and Dr. Martin (my primary care provider) was there to see the results as they were being produced. I am getting good care! Also the lab technician asked if it would be okay if he left me on the exam table for a few minutes as he wanted to quickly deliver the results to the radiologists before they left at 5:00. He came back after a few minutes pleased to report that he had been successful. When Dr. Martin saw the results he immediately called a pulmonary specialist to seek counsel. He also scheduled me to see a hemotologist. The main reason for the hemotologist is to help discover the cause of the blood clot. I will save that saga for another blog, hopefully to come soon.

At this time all I know is that I am stuck in this hospital bed until at least tomorrow. I was able to get up and slowly go into a shower in my room, sit on a chair, and with Be's help get cleaned up yesterday. More to come, and I apologize that almost all my blogs seem to be about my health issues. I always thought that I was a healthy person.