After purchasing a new Android (Samsung Galaxy Skyrocket II) phone two weeks ago, I thought I had moved into the 21st Century. My son showed me how to work everything, and if I ever needed help, I knew I could always ask him. I, however, certainly needed his assistance when I ran into a smart phone snag earlier in the week.
As Boy Wonder and I waited together in the car while his fiancee ran an errand, I decided to check my voice mail messages. Since he was sitting right there beside me, I figured, I could make sure I knew how to do correctly check my phone's voice mail. Sure enough, I had two, new voice messages. Matt, once again, went through the process with me step by step.
Pleased with myself that I could access my phone messages correctly, I began listening to the first message. I couldn't hear it too well, so I said, "Matt, I can't hear my messages very well -- how do I turn up the volume?"
Matt, turned, looked at me, and smirked as he replied, "Mom, it's a phone. Hold it up to your ear."
Thursday, September 20, 2012
Monday, September 17, 2012
Heart-felt Thoughts
*For those of you who may not have heard, I had a heart attack in the early hours of Wednesday morning.
Looking back on everything, my co-worker Bernie saved my life by switching shifts with me. If she hadn't asked me to work her day shift, I probably wouldn't have been up at 5:00 A.M, and I don't know what would have happened. Since a fair number of heart attacks occur in the early morning hours, many people sleep through the heart attack symptoms, or wake up but decide to try and "sleep it off." I was lucky because I was awake.
I woke up that morning before my alarm was scheduled to go off, meandered to the bathroom and the kitchen, making coffee and feeding the cat. I headed back to the bathroom to fix my face and try to corral my hair before getting dressed, but after brushing my teeth, I noticed all of a sudden I felt a little dizzy. Since I have Chronic Venous Sufficiency and can't stand in one place for long periods, I didn't think much of it. I noticed a few seconds later as I pulled my comb from the drawer and turned on my hair curler, that I was sweating and still felt light-headed. I'm a fainter so I know the symptoms, and I decided it might be in my best interest, since I was 15 minutes early, to lie down in the recliner for 5 minutes, and then hopefully, I would feel better.
The cat came out to see why I wasn't following routine and hopped up on my lap, purring. Before I knew it, I had sudden chest pain that hurt more than any chest pain I had experienced before. I just waited for another minute or two, trying to figure out what this pain was. I argued with myself that I probably had an anxiety attack, or maybe angina, or possibly it was my acid reflux acting up.
The chest pain lightened up a little as I continued to debate with myself. I really needed to be clocked in at work by 7 A.M. Should I call the Nurses' Line? No, I already knew what they would tell me -- to go into the Emergency Room and get checked out. Could I possibly take my work clothes with me so that I could work after the ER checked me out?
Then I remembered Rosie O'Donnell's interview several weeks ago when she stated on television that taking an aspirin saved her life. I figured I should go take one just in case this pain was something more. So I swallowed a baby aspirin, not that I really needed it, but I always take one anyway, along with the rest of my meds, before I eat my breakfast.
The chest pain did not seem to be going away, but it was up high and in the center of my chest. If I were really having a heart problem, it would be on the left side, wouldn't it? If it were something serious, wouldn't I have left arm pain or pain in my jaw? Surely it was just anxiety, or my acid reflux gone bad.
By this point, I sensed maybe I should go to the ER. I remember thinking that if a patient came into the ER with these symptoms, I knew exactly what to do -- put them in a wheelchair and call the Charge Nurse for a Straight Back.
Okay. Since I seemed to have decided to go in and get checked out, I had to make a decision whether I should wake up Matt or call the squad -- once again, I knew from work that the right answer was to call the squad. I would have to wake Matt, and Lauren, either way, so I walked unsteadily down the hall and knocked on his door.
When Matt said he would take me in because he would be faster than having a squad come all the way out to get me and then go back into town, I agreed even though I knew that wasn't the right choice -- it just sounded good. I only had on a nightgown, and no underwear, and I knew I couldn't go into the ER with no undies. So I went to my bedroom, but couldn't pull out my clothes as I was having shortness of breath by this time. I knew what that meant, yet I called Lauren and asked her to get my undies and bra out of the drawers as well as some sweats. When she handed me the sweats, I told her the shirt didn't match, but there should be a matching one right there. She just shook her head and said, "Oh, Cindy." Obviously, she thought I shouldn't be worried about matching at a time like this.
As we were driving in, I had to make another choice about which hospital. I knew all heart patients went to Good Sam but that we tell patients in a medical emergency to go to the nearest facility. At the last minute, I told Matt to pull in to Bethesda. I must have sensed it was a medical emergency, and another mile and a half could make a big difference.
Lauren and I got out of the car at the ER door, I walked in and put myself in a wheelchair, and instructed Lauren to roll me to the front desk. I gave Jon Booth my symptoms, and he immediately wheeled me to the back and the Charge Nurse, Joyce Kelso, who sent me into Room 7. The nursing staff arrived at once, and surrounded me, each one doing their part of the team work.
I knew the Charge as well as each member of the nursing staff, and I felt safe and comfortable. They were experienced, excelled at their jobs, and made it easy for me. My matching clothes had to come off (not really a surprise!), and they put me in a lovely hospital gown and started attaching leads. I didn't feel worried by anything.
I remember the staff telling me I was having a heart attack, but to be honest, it was hard for my brain to grasp. I was lucid, I didn't feel all that bad, and it didn't seem real.
They prepped me for surgery. Joyce shaved. Brandon Rexroad started an IV in the right arm, Courtney Grant hooked me up for an EKG, and got a line going in my left, and Sally Jackey manned the computer. Joyce asked me questions, helped the others, organized everyone, and made sure the MIC-U was on the way, and that the Cath Lab and Dr. Albirini would be waiting on me at Good Sam. Even the new Techie found the schedule I directed her to in the front desk drawer under the white basket, and called Michelle, my boss, to let her know what was going on. Everyone in that room was awesome, and I hope I didn't forget to mention someone; if I did, I apologize but time was spinning at a blurry, fast pace.
I can't say enough good things about the staff at Bethesda's ER. Fabulous! All of them! Our community is so blessed to have such staff with such expertise and skill! A million thank-you's to all at Bethesda's ER that morning.
At one point, Joyce asked me if I had taken any aspirin, and when I said yes, a baby aspirin, I was surprised when she asked if I chewed it or swallowed it. Of course, I swallowed it -- I always do. She told me I should chew, not swallow, as chewing will help get the aspirin into your system sooner. She also explained as they were giving me 3 more, that a patient should chew 4 baby aspirins or 2 regular aspirins. I'd never heard this before, and I've been around a long time.
When the MIC-U guys showed up, I remember wondering why the ER called them instead of one of the regular squads. Even when they hoisted me into the ambulance and I realized we were running "hot," I remember thinking why are they running with the lights on. I still didn't realize how serious my situation was. I still could talk and the pain wasn't much. It just didn't sink in at that time that I might not make it.
Mike and the MIC-U guys immediately took me into Good Sam's Cath Lab upon arrival and Dr. Albirini was waiting. The nurse explained they were going to do a heart cath, numb my groin area where they would go in, and I wouldn't feel anything, but I wouldn't be all the way out either. I don't remember anything else until I looked at the clock in CCU around 8:30 A.M.
Once again, I had wonderful nurses and MST's in CCU. The arterial bleeding in the groin didn't want to stop, so they effectively dealt with that. Even then, I didn't realize the severity of what had happened to me. My nurse explained I'd had a heart cath, but that the branch artery was too small for a stent, so the doctor had used a balloon to open it up. I still didn't realize I had suffered a serious heart attack. My cardiac enzymes were 29 when I arrived, and cardiac enzymes are supposed to be below 5. I kept receiving IV's and oral meds in CCU as my blood pressure and pulse seemed to have lives of their own.
After a day and a half, I was moved to CVIU, a step-down unit. My blood pressure still didn't behave itself and neither did my pulse, and I ran a slight fever at one point, but my cardiac enzymes had dropped to 8.9. When a Code Blue was called during the last night of my stay, I finally realized I was like many of the others here -- not all of us make it. This realization was scary and sobering. One minute you're planning on getting dressed and going in to work, and the next, you realize how lucky and grateful you are just to be alive.
A heart-felt thank you to all the wonderful medical staff, as well as my son and future daughter-in-law, my family, my boss, my colleagues, and my friends for all the help you willingly gave me. I appreciate you all more than I can say.
(Some of you have asked me many questions about symptoms, and such. By writing this entry it is my hope that maybe I will be able to help one or two of your or your family and friends by describing what happened to me. If you have other questions, or need to know about other heart-related things, such as how much sodium should be in your diet, for instance, let me know. I'll be glad to explain what I've learned. May you all stay heart-healthy.)
Looking back on everything, my co-worker Bernie saved my life by switching shifts with me. If she hadn't asked me to work her day shift, I probably wouldn't have been up at 5:00 A.M, and I don't know what would have happened. Since a fair number of heart attacks occur in the early morning hours, many people sleep through the heart attack symptoms, or wake up but decide to try and "sleep it off." I was lucky because I was awake.
I woke up that morning before my alarm was scheduled to go off, meandered to the bathroom and the kitchen, making coffee and feeding the cat. I headed back to the bathroom to fix my face and try to corral my hair before getting dressed, but after brushing my teeth, I noticed all of a sudden I felt a little dizzy. Since I have Chronic Venous Sufficiency and can't stand in one place for long periods, I didn't think much of it. I noticed a few seconds later as I pulled my comb from the drawer and turned on my hair curler, that I was sweating and still felt light-headed. I'm a fainter so I know the symptoms, and I decided it might be in my best interest, since I was 15 minutes early, to lie down in the recliner for 5 minutes, and then hopefully, I would feel better.
The cat came out to see why I wasn't following routine and hopped up on my lap, purring. Before I knew it, I had sudden chest pain that hurt more than any chest pain I had experienced before. I just waited for another minute or two, trying to figure out what this pain was. I argued with myself that I probably had an anxiety attack, or maybe angina, or possibly it was my acid reflux acting up.
The chest pain lightened up a little as I continued to debate with myself. I really needed to be clocked in at work by 7 A.M. Should I call the Nurses' Line? No, I already knew what they would tell me -- to go into the Emergency Room and get checked out. Could I possibly take my work clothes with me so that I could work after the ER checked me out?
Then I remembered Rosie O'Donnell's interview several weeks ago when she stated on television that taking an aspirin saved her life. I figured I should go take one just in case this pain was something more. So I swallowed a baby aspirin, not that I really needed it, but I always take one anyway, along with the rest of my meds, before I eat my breakfast.
The chest pain did not seem to be going away, but it was up high and in the center of my chest. If I were really having a heart problem, it would be on the left side, wouldn't it? If it were something serious, wouldn't I have left arm pain or pain in my jaw? Surely it was just anxiety, or my acid reflux gone bad.
By this point, I sensed maybe I should go to the ER. I remember thinking that if a patient came into the ER with these symptoms, I knew exactly what to do -- put them in a wheelchair and call the Charge Nurse for a Straight Back.
Okay. Since I seemed to have decided to go in and get checked out, I had to make a decision whether I should wake up Matt or call the squad -- once again, I knew from work that the right answer was to call the squad. I would have to wake Matt, and Lauren, either way, so I walked unsteadily down the hall and knocked on his door.
When Matt said he would take me in because he would be faster than having a squad come all the way out to get me and then go back into town, I agreed even though I knew that wasn't the right choice -- it just sounded good. I only had on a nightgown, and no underwear, and I knew I couldn't go into the ER with no undies. So I went to my bedroom, but couldn't pull out my clothes as I was having shortness of breath by this time. I knew what that meant, yet I called Lauren and asked her to get my undies and bra out of the drawers as well as some sweats. When she handed me the sweats, I told her the shirt didn't match, but there should be a matching one right there. She just shook her head and said, "Oh, Cindy." Obviously, she thought I shouldn't be worried about matching at a time like this.
As we were driving in, I had to make another choice about which hospital. I knew all heart patients went to Good Sam but that we tell patients in a medical emergency to go to the nearest facility. At the last minute, I told Matt to pull in to Bethesda. I must have sensed it was a medical emergency, and another mile and a half could make a big difference.
Lauren and I got out of the car at the ER door, I walked in and put myself in a wheelchair, and instructed Lauren to roll me to the front desk. I gave Jon Booth my symptoms, and he immediately wheeled me to the back and the Charge Nurse, Joyce Kelso, who sent me into Room 7. The nursing staff arrived at once, and surrounded me, each one doing their part of the team work.
I knew the Charge as well as each member of the nursing staff, and I felt safe and comfortable. They were experienced, excelled at their jobs, and made it easy for me. My matching clothes had to come off (not really a surprise!), and they put me in a lovely hospital gown and started attaching leads. I didn't feel worried by anything.
I remember the staff telling me I was having a heart attack, but to be honest, it was hard for my brain to grasp. I was lucid, I didn't feel all that bad, and it didn't seem real.
They prepped me for surgery. Joyce shaved. Brandon Rexroad started an IV in the right arm, Courtney Grant hooked me up for an EKG, and got a line going in my left, and Sally Jackey manned the computer. Joyce asked me questions, helped the others, organized everyone, and made sure the MIC-U was on the way, and that the Cath Lab and Dr. Albirini would be waiting on me at Good Sam. Even the new Techie found the schedule I directed her to in the front desk drawer under the white basket, and called Michelle, my boss, to let her know what was going on. Everyone in that room was awesome, and I hope I didn't forget to mention someone; if I did, I apologize but time was spinning at a blurry, fast pace.
I can't say enough good things about the staff at Bethesda's ER. Fabulous! All of them! Our community is so blessed to have such staff with such expertise and skill! A million thank-you's to all at Bethesda's ER that morning.
At one point, Joyce asked me if I had taken any aspirin, and when I said yes, a baby aspirin, I was surprised when she asked if I chewed it or swallowed it. Of course, I swallowed it -- I always do. She told me I should chew, not swallow, as chewing will help get the aspirin into your system sooner. She also explained as they were giving me 3 more, that a patient should chew 4 baby aspirins or 2 regular aspirins. I'd never heard this before, and I've been around a long time.
When the MIC-U guys showed up, I remember wondering why the ER called them instead of one of the regular squads. Even when they hoisted me into the ambulance and I realized we were running "hot," I remember thinking why are they running with the lights on. I still didn't realize how serious my situation was. I still could talk and the pain wasn't much. It just didn't sink in at that time that I might not make it.
Mike and the MIC-U guys immediately took me into Good Sam's Cath Lab upon arrival and Dr. Albirini was waiting. The nurse explained they were going to do a heart cath, numb my groin area where they would go in, and I wouldn't feel anything, but I wouldn't be all the way out either. I don't remember anything else until I looked at the clock in CCU around 8:30 A.M.
Once again, I had wonderful nurses and MST's in CCU. The arterial bleeding in the groin didn't want to stop, so they effectively dealt with that. Even then, I didn't realize the severity of what had happened to me. My nurse explained I'd had a heart cath, but that the branch artery was too small for a stent, so the doctor had used a balloon to open it up. I still didn't realize I had suffered a serious heart attack. My cardiac enzymes were 29 when I arrived, and cardiac enzymes are supposed to be below 5. I kept receiving IV's and oral meds in CCU as my blood pressure and pulse seemed to have lives of their own.
After a day and a half, I was moved to CVIU, a step-down unit. My blood pressure still didn't behave itself and neither did my pulse, and I ran a slight fever at one point, but my cardiac enzymes had dropped to 8.9. When a Code Blue was called during the last night of my stay, I finally realized I was like many of the others here -- not all of us make it. This realization was scary and sobering. One minute you're planning on getting dressed and going in to work, and the next, you realize how lucky and grateful you are just to be alive.
A heart-felt thank you to all the wonderful medical staff, as well as my son and future daughter-in-law, my family, my boss, my colleagues, and my friends for all the help you willingly gave me. I appreciate you all more than I can say.
(Some of you have asked me many questions about symptoms, and such. By writing this entry it is my hope that maybe I will be able to help one or two of your or your family and friends by describing what happened to me. If you have other questions, or need to know about other heart-related things, such as how much sodium should be in your diet, for instance, let me know. I'll be glad to explain what I've learned. May you all stay heart-healthy.)
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
Dear Fly
Dear Fly,
Why do you bother me? Do you have nothing else to do?
I don’t wear hair spray, I’ve used my Sure antiperspirant,
and I’m allergic to most perfumes and body lotions, so I shouldn’t interest you. I’m sure there’s plenty of doggy fecal matter
in yards scattered from here to Seattle for you to crawl over, plus cow pies
and meadow muffins, as well as lots of road kill along the highways calling
your name. Can’t you find some trash to
excite you?
If you think I intend to go to sleep while you’re
around, you’re fruity. I know what you
do at night. You delight in waiting
until innocent people fall asleep so you can take sadistic pleasure in walking
on their faces with your poopy fly’s feet.
What’s your purpose in life? Be honest and admit it – you don’t have
any. There’s absolutely no reason for
your existence. Ogden Nash even wrote a
poem about you entitled simply, “The Fly” --
“God in his wisdom made the fly/ And then forgot to tell us why.”
So, Mr. Fly, why don’t you buzz off? You’re not welcome here.
Cindy
Monday, September 3, 2012
Penn State Fallout
A short time has passed since the horrific problems hit the headlines at Penn State. People have been justifiably appalled by the actions of Jerry Sandusky, and have rightly demanded justice. Sandusky is in the midst of legal proceedings and awaits sentencing.
In addition to sympathy and compassion for the victims, I am likewise saddened by all the pain and suffering Joe Paterno and his family have had to endure.
Yes, that's right. I think JoePa has been unfairly treated and made a scapegoat. I am angry at all the people plus the Penn State Board of Trustees who did not stand up and defend a good man, who rightly reported what he learned to his boss.
Some folks say JoePa should have done more. These people seem to be full of righteous anger, but seem to be looking for anyone they can to shoulder part of the blame. Additional blame should possibly involve the Athletic Director and the Vice President or President of the University rather than JoePa. And, yes, the AD and a university VP have already been charged with not reporting suspected child abuse and then lying to the Grand Jury. They face court appearances in January.
Joe Paterno built a wonderful football program, and helped so many young men over the years. JoePa was a great football coach and a good man. He did not deserve to have his reputation tarnished and everything he built through the years destroyed. The mob demanding his statue be taken down, and anyone involved in this decision, are nothing more than blood-thirsty, finger-pointing vultures.
Put the blame where it belongs on one man -- Jerry Sandusky. Blame the AD and anyone he may have told as accessories. The NCAA should not blame the team -- they were too harsh with their sanctions. Neither Joe Pa nor the team need to be stripped of 14 years of records -- the current young men on the team were only four years old when this happened. Let them play football, and let Joe Pa have the records that are rightfully his. He is the most victorious coach in major college football.
Don't strip Joe Paterno of his dignity. Let his achievements and name stand for themselves. Feel compassion for everyone involved. Bring back the statue.
In addition to sympathy and compassion for the victims, I am likewise saddened by all the pain and suffering Joe Paterno and his family have had to endure.
Yes, that's right. I think JoePa has been unfairly treated and made a scapegoat. I am angry at all the people plus the Penn State Board of Trustees who did not stand up and defend a good man, who rightly reported what he learned to his boss.
Some folks say JoePa should have done more. These people seem to be full of righteous anger, but seem to be looking for anyone they can to shoulder part of the blame. Additional blame should possibly involve the Athletic Director and the Vice President or President of the University rather than JoePa. And, yes, the AD and a university VP have already been charged with not reporting suspected child abuse and then lying to the Grand Jury. They face court appearances in January.
Joe Paterno built a wonderful football program, and helped so many young men over the years. JoePa was a great football coach and a good man. He did not deserve to have his reputation tarnished and everything he built through the years destroyed. The mob demanding his statue be taken down, and anyone involved in this decision, are nothing more than blood-thirsty, finger-pointing vultures.
Put the blame where it belongs on one man -- Jerry Sandusky. Blame the AD and anyone he may have told as accessories. The NCAA should not blame the team -- they were too harsh with their sanctions. Neither Joe Pa nor the team need to be stripped of 14 years of records -- the current young men on the team were only four years old when this happened. Let them play football, and let Joe Pa have the records that are rightfully his. He is the most victorious coach in major college football.
Don't strip Joe Paterno of his dignity. Let his achievements and name stand for themselves. Feel compassion for everyone involved. Bring back the statue.
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