From jeffl@cruzio.com Tue Feb 26 20:51:36 2002 Path: spln!rex!extra.newsguy.com!newsp.newsguy.com!enews1 From: Jeff Liebermann Newsgroups: ba.mountain-folk,scruz.general Subject: JeffL is back Date: Tue, 26 Feb 2002 20:51:36 -0800 Organization: http://extra.newsguy.com Lines: 117 Message-ID: <7mjo7uc6tmlnc22kjipt3s0dbd0tslrm4j@4ax.com> Reply-To: jeffl@cruzio.com NNTP-Posting-Host: p-967.newsdawg.com Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit X-Newsreader: Forte Agent 1.9/32.560 Xref: spln ba.mountain-folk:25282 scruz.general:53168 Rumors of my demise are somewhat premature. I'm alive, recovering, exhausted, and soon to be impoverished. In theory, I'll be able to drive in about 2-3 weeks, and back to work in about 2-3 additional weeks. Recovery is quick because there was no heart attack involved. Many people have asked "what the hell happened"? In retaliation, I've inscribed the whole story in the vain hope that others might learn (or laugh) from the experience. On the weekend on Feb 2-3, I was splitting firewood and experienced some rather nasty chest pains. I'd been feeling rather "run down" for the last year, but this was the first time anything obvious was amiss. I conveniently had a doctors appointment over a different issue on Mon, Feb 4. When I mentioned the chest pains, the doctor immediately referred me to a cardiologist. I got an immediate appointment on Weds where I totally flunked the treadmill test. I lasted about 6 minutes (most people can go for 10 minutes), nearly passed out, and had my blood pressure go down instead of up at the end. I was immediately admitted to Dominican Hospital where they were seriously worried that I might have an immediate heart attack. The next day, they did an angiogram (heart catherization) and found 4 or 5 blockages. None were treatable with angioplasty (balloons) or stents (chinese finger puzzles). The pictures looked horrible. The basic problem was genetic. My mother died of heart problems at exactly my age. My father died from a stroke. All my relatives, on both sides of the family have coronary problems. Moral: Chose your parents wisely. I asked various doctors if I had 5 years of prior warning, could I have done anything to prevent this? Nope, only delay it. Bummer. The next morning, (Friday Feb 8), I underwent a triple bypass heart operation that lasted about 4 hours. I woke up in ICU (intensive care) feeling horrible. I thought I was fairly coherent, but was told later that I was rotating through several languages when asked questions. In general, there was lots of pain, but tolerable. The pain killers did not eliminate the pain but distracted my brain sufficiently that I decided that it didn't matter. I can see why the druggies like the stuff. The pain stuck around until the drainage tubes and wires were removed from my chest the next morning. It was like instant relief. I was feeling well enough Saturday afternoon to get out of ICU and get moved to the cardiac monitored ward. I celebrated by throwing up on the floor in ICU. Oops. I barely remember what happened in ICU. I do recall that one nurse (I forgot his name) was with me for 16 hours straight. On the way out of ICU, I got yelled at by one nurse who recognized that my attitude needed adjustment. I had decided that this was going to be "take my body and do with it as you will" joy ride, where I was just a spectator. This was politically incorrect as I was expected to participate in my recovery. So much for turning this into a vacation. For the next 3 days, I got little rest or sleep. Visitors and phone calls were a mixed blessing. They made me feel appreciated, but it really was exhausting. I dozed off on some. Others were asked to leave after about 10 minutes. All through the night, various apparitions would appear to draw blood, measure vitals, and generally prevent me from sleeping. To insure maximum misery, I was given a diuretic, to get rid of excessive fluids. That resulted in my pissing into the bottle every 30 minutes or so. A side effect of anaesthesia are weird dreams. So, I convinced the midnight vampires and others to ask their patients what they were dreaming about, when awoken, starting with myself. I rattled off several rather detailed dreams and soon discovered that many people can't recall any part of their dreams. I'm not sure but I may have created a new entertainment medium or a monster. One of the problems with lying on my back all day was that fluids tend to accumulate in the lungs. The surgery collapsed the lungs when they opened the chest, so they were somewhat smaller than normal. The fix was a torture device invented by a former member of the inquisition, which measured exhaled lung capacity. Sucking into this device would prevent the fluids turning into pneumonia and expand the lungs back to normal. It was also quite painful, but necessary. It worked. No problems with fluids in the lungs. Elementary conspiracy theory postulates that all electronic devices will fail when my back is turned. My pager battery died while in the hospital so I didn't get any calls that way. I left my cell phone on and it ran down in a day. My office mail server hung in a power hiccup. Sorry. After the surgery, they ran a sonigram (ultrasonic scan of the heart in operation). Very impressive equipment. There were 3ea operators as they were just learning how to use the machine. I found myself giving an impromptu lecture on DSP, doppler, digital filters, image enhancement, and sound propogation from my bed. The 3ea operators didn't seem to mind, but the nurses later asked me some odd questions apparently to test my sanity. By Weds (Feb 13) I had improved enough to consider release. There was no insurance company trying to throw me out early, because I don't have any medical insurance. I wanted out. It was the doctors deciding that they had done their thing and now it was up to me. Patients recover better at home. Since absolutely everything was going perfectly, I was released. I'm currently staying at the home of Hank and Bobbie Bond in Santa Cruz. I would never have survived the first week out without them. My house in Ben Lomond has 50 stairs and is heated with firewood. At this time, I couldn't have handled all that. The most I'm suppose to lift is 5lbs (exception is launching one of 4ea 12lb cats off my chest). At this time, everything is still somewhat exhausting. I'm slowly regaining my strength, doing the required walking, chugging overpriced drugs, and turning into a loafer. They have cable TV so I'm wasting enormous amounts of time watching TV. I'm still bored, uninspired, lazy, and slightly depressed. That problem was partially solved when Chris and Peggy posted a "get well" headline on the Cruzio home page. I was instantly deluged in email from everyone I'd ever known or met in the last 20 years. I needed something to do and it found me. If anyone has questions, please post, email, or page me. Don't call my house or the Bond's. I still need about 1-2 weeks of rest before I can effectively snarl and scream at anyone on the phone. Also, don't just drop in. I still sleep quite a bit during the day, and catching a cold or flu at this time would be a disaster.