There are times in your life where you are faced with a moment which shows you who your friends are. Or there are moments when people come through to show you what a good friend they are when you least expect it. I have some true, loyal, wonderful friends who have done just those things for me at different times in my life. And I know I am blessed.
For example, in college a boyfriend broke up with me and I was devastated. I called one of my best friends in hysterics around 11 pm to tell her what happened. She left her house and drove two hours to spend the night with me, even though she had to get up early the next morning to drive back and work. That same night I called another best friend who was at a concert. She woke up at the crack of dawn and drove to my house to be with me, and her and my other friend had a "changing of the guard" so to speak. I knew then how wonderful these friends were to be willing to do that for me... but when I think back to that night now, I know without a doubt I am blessed to have people in my life who love me that much.
I feel as if I could write out examples like this for hours. A friend (who was not a morning person) who woke up very early to ride along to a doctor's appointment I was nervous about in high school. Those friends you can call and tell them what is wrong... or those friends who know something is wrong without even realizing it. Those friends who you just show up at their house and have a complete meltdown... and it's as if you were saving the meltdown for the moment you passed through the door. I have a wonderful, dear friend who would do anything to help anyone (because that's just how he is)... and he has been there to help not just me, but my family, more times than I can count. I know I am blessed.
In Germany I have seen a true friend in my friend Melissa. Who else shows up to spend the day in a German hospital bringing you a supply of magazines and banned food items? Only a friend. Yesterday, I realized what a real, true friend I have in Jimmy. Since I spend the night at Jimmy's house while working, we have definitely gotten close. Josh and Jimmy are close... but we've also traveled together, I've spent a lot of time with his girlfriend, and we spend a lot of time counseling each other. Well, more Jimmy listening to me vent, and me giving him guidance has to how to navigate a long distance relationship. But over time we have gotten close. My medical appointments fell on Jimmy's day off. He was planning to head our direction to spend some time with another friend of his, so I had offered to give him a ride to Spangdahlem on Monday and bring him back on Tuesday since I had to head that direction anyways. He agreed whole-heartedly to the plan.
I showed up at Jimmy's house on Monday not in the best mood about wearing my heart monitor. It wasn't hard for him to figure this out as I told him I was cranky about it. So Jimmy took me out to lunch, and decided my car needed to be washed. He is a car guy... so we spent a few hours cleaning and detailing my car. Not exactly how I had planned to spend my afternoon, but I was surprised to find I was in a better mood when we were done. Jimmy more than entertained me on our ride up Spangdahlem, and I was grateful for the company. He spent the evening with his friend, and came over to our house in the morning yesterday. We were almost to Ramstein, and I was looking at the clock thinking to myself that I would be cutting it close to having enough time to drop him off and then get to the hospital. As I was thinking this, Jimmy said, "Why don't I come along to the hospital with you? I don't even know where it is... and I should probably figure that out." After me asking him multiple times if he was sure he wanted to tag along, and him assuring me that he did, we continued onto the hospital without the detour to his house. I got checked in to my appointment, and then sat there thinking that even though I've all of this done a million times, I was a bit nervous about it. Even though I'm an adult and I've gone to doctors appointments by myself many times, a part of me still wished my parents were there. As my stomach was starting to do nervous flip flops, Jimmy leaned over and said, "You want me to come back with you? Is that okay?" As if he knew I didn't want to be alone. I asked him, multiple times again, if he was sure he wanted to come along, which he assured me he did. So Jimmy came back with me for my stress test. My test went fine, nothing remarkable about it. I just realized what a dear, wonderful friend I have in Jimmy. A true friend who reviled himself just when I needed it.
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Cardiac Adventures
Josh arrived home safe and sound last week - and he was home a few days early. I don't know why he got to come home early, but I'm not questioning it. I was just glad to have him back. Three weeks seemed like a much long time than it should have...
Once again, the cats were curious about his bag. They couldn't quite seem to figure out the smell of it.
Josh's plane landed in the evening, and he didn't get back to our house until close to midnight. He was given the next day off of work. I had made a cardiologist appointment for that day, thinking I would be on my own. Josh was kind enough to come with me. What a crummy day off it turned out to be for him.
At our base there is no cardiologist, so I knew I would have to referred to see one. The options were to go to Landstuhl (the huge Army hospital where they send the wounded from the desert), or be referred to a German cardiologist. After my last experience in a German hospital, I had my fingers crossed for Landstuhl. I saw my doctor on base, explained why I needed a referral, and here's what I was told. A referral for Landstuhl was put into the system, but I need to wait a few days for it to "trickle down" before I called to make an appointment. If they had space for me, great. If not, I'd have to go back to my doctor to get a referral to a German doctor. Such a racket. As luck would have it I was able to get an appointment at Landstuhl, and I thought I had made it for when Josh was gone. Lucky Josh got to tag along instead.
I have never had much experience at a military hospital. As it turns out, they have not had a lot of experience with Kirsten Lehman.
I checked in for my appointment, and was led into a room which was divided by curtains into tiny little areas. They wanted to take my vitals and an EKG. A very nice soldier with a southern accent told me to take off everything from the waist up, lay on the bed, and "cover" myself with this little towel. He then left me alone for 5 minutes. When he returned, he asked me twice if I was ready. When he was placing the EKG electrodes on me, he seemed overly cautious. I can tell by his rank that he's been doing this for awhile, so I assume he's worked with females. All I can figure is maybe he's worked with females who haven't had much cardiac work done. In my life I've had more EKGs than I can count. It's not a big deal. And really... the person doing the EKG is a medical professional who has no interest or ulterior motives for doing anything but their job. So frankly for me... the person could just stay in the room while I stripped down to save us some time. Let's hurry up and get this over with, I've got shit to do. I mean, really. I understand hospital/military policy. But.
After vital signs, I saw one of the cardiologists, who as it turns out is German. Ha ha ha. Touche universe, touche. He looked through my medical records I brought with me. My medical records is a funny story in itself. I had requested my medical records from my long time cardiologist before I moved - partly to have a copy for myself, but also to let the military/future doctors have a copy. I was expecting a large manilla envelope. What I received was a box, a large box, which had cost $26 to ship across town to me. I didn't trust to leave this box with my household items that got moved/shipped over because I wanted to have them "in-hand" if need be... so this box was a part of my carry-on. A box... full of medical records. So this doctor flips through them, listens to my heart and then announces two things. He wants me to have an echo and a stress test (normal tests I've had a dozen times over), and he thinks I need to go to a large German hospital to see a pediatric cardiologist. To put it in basic terms, he thinks I'm okay, but he has no experience with congenital heart disease, therefore he does not feel comfortable saying I'm okay.
At first I was slightly panicked by this, simply because in my head I took that to mean I wasn't okay, things were bad, I need to go elsewhere yadda yadda yadda. That's a reaction from years of living with anxiety and anticipating the worst. Unfortunately, it took me a few hours to chill out and see the good of the situation. Prior to that happening, poor Josh had to deal with me being a bundle of nerves. As it was, we had to wait a few hours between me seeing the doctor and having an echo done, so we ran a few errands. The entire time I was pretty out of it, and kept randomly bursting into tears. I'm sure sitting in a hospital waiting room and dealing with an emotional wife was exactly what Josh was picturing for his day off. I was able to realize (after some time), that I am lucky to see a doctor who can admit he can't give me the best possible care, and he's willing to send me to someone who can. I'm also lucky to live in a place where there are doctors with great skill and expertise.
For me the highlight of the day was the echo, which may sound weird, but hear me out. The echo tech was nice, and I could tell he was experienced by the types of questions he asked me. However, as the echo progressed I could tell he didn't have much experience with congenital heart disease. An echo for me normally takes about 30-45 minutes, tops. We were there for two hours. At one point in time, the echo tech stopped, looked something up in a reference book, then went back to work. That was a first for me. He also got a little confused/excited when he found some differences in my heart's anatomy, and seemed a bit perturbed by the whole situation. I can't help but laugh at it. I have had doctor's make comments to me when they listen to my heart, but I have never had someone seem so confused... and certainly they've never had to stop an echo to look something up... Wow. I had told Josh this test wasn't a big deal and it would be pretty quick. What a liar I turned out to be.
I had gotten spoiled with my last cardiologist who was smart enough to have his office schedule anything/everything I would need at one appointment. I always would go see him and have everything I needed done in one sitting. It doesn't work that way with the military. I was excited to have a few extra days off work this week... and instead I am spending those extra days off at Landstuhl (and driving the hour to and from Landstuhl). Yesterday I went down to get a Holter Monitor (24 hour heart monitor) which is one of my least favorite things in the world. It is uncomfortable, my skin reacts to the adhesive on the electrode patches, and I can't shower while wearing it. I also feel extremely self conscious while wearing it and feel people are staring (when I'm sure in reality they're not). I'm usually just a ball of joy while wearing it. So as I'm writing this I'm grumbling about the fact that I itch, and I'm counting down the time until I can rip this thing off. I have to head back to Landstuhl this afternoon for my stress test, which for me ranks right up there with a Holter. Basically a stress test is the treadmill from hell where the speed and incline increases every two minutes, and you go for as long as you can. Maybe I dislike it so much because cardiologists always seem disappointed when you say you've had enough and want to stop. But. I hate doing it. I keep trying to tell myself at least they will be done and out of the way... but I'm still not looking forward to it. .... focusing on the positive... focusing on the positive.
One last funny, small world note... As a part of me getting command sponsorship to get to Germany (which is a whole different story in itself) I had contacted German cardiologists to see if they would be willing/able to take me as a patient. I did most of my contact via email as that was a cheapest/easiest way to talk with the doctors. However, when I would initially contact a doctor I would provide my phone number. There was one cardiologist who called me (waking me up out of a dead sleep) only hours after I emailed him to tell me he would be more than happy to see me as a patient, and that he had experience with the military as he got referrals all the time. Guess who I'm being sent to see? You've got it.
Once again, the cats were curious about his bag. They couldn't quite seem to figure out the smell of it.
Josh's plane landed in the evening, and he didn't get back to our house until close to midnight. He was given the next day off of work. I had made a cardiologist appointment for that day, thinking I would be on my own. Josh was kind enough to come with me. What a crummy day off it turned out to be for him.
At our base there is no cardiologist, so I knew I would have to referred to see one. The options were to go to Landstuhl (the huge Army hospital where they send the wounded from the desert), or be referred to a German cardiologist. After my last experience in a German hospital, I had my fingers crossed for Landstuhl. I saw my doctor on base, explained why I needed a referral, and here's what I was told. A referral for Landstuhl was put into the system, but I need to wait a few days for it to "trickle down" before I called to make an appointment. If they had space for me, great. If not, I'd have to go back to my doctor to get a referral to a German doctor. Such a racket. As luck would have it I was able to get an appointment at Landstuhl, and I thought I had made it for when Josh was gone. Lucky Josh got to tag along instead.
I have never had much experience at a military hospital. As it turns out, they have not had a lot of experience with Kirsten Lehman.
I checked in for my appointment, and was led into a room which was divided by curtains into tiny little areas. They wanted to take my vitals and an EKG. A very nice soldier with a southern accent told me to take off everything from the waist up, lay on the bed, and "cover" myself with this little towel. He then left me alone for 5 minutes. When he returned, he asked me twice if I was ready. When he was placing the EKG electrodes on me, he seemed overly cautious. I can tell by his rank that he's been doing this for awhile, so I assume he's worked with females. All I can figure is maybe he's worked with females who haven't had much cardiac work done. In my life I've had more EKGs than I can count. It's not a big deal. And really... the person doing the EKG is a medical professional who has no interest or ulterior motives for doing anything but their job. So frankly for me... the person could just stay in the room while I stripped down to save us some time. Let's hurry up and get this over with, I've got shit to do. I mean, really. I understand hospital/military policy. But.
After vital signs, I saw one of the cardiologists, who as it turns out is German. Ha ha ha. Touche universe, touche. He looked through my medical records I brought with me. My medical records is a funny story in itself. I had requested my medical records from my long time cardiologist before I moved - partly to have a copy for myself, but also to let the military/future doctors have a copy. I was expecting a large manilla envelope. What I received was a box, a large box, which had cost $26 to ship across town to me. I didn't trust to leave this box with my household items that got moved/shipped over because I wanted to have them "in-hand" if need be... so this box was a part of my carry-on. A box... full of medical records. So this doctor flips through them, listens to my heart and then announces two things. He wants me to have an echo and a stress test (normal tests I've had a dozen times over), and he thinks I need to go to a large German hospital to see a pediatric cardiologist. To put it in basic terms, he thinks I'm okay, but he has no experience with congenital heart disease, therefore he does not feel comfortable saying I'm okay.
At first I was slightly panicked by this, simply because in my head I took that to mean I wasn't okay, things were bad, I need to go elsewhere yadda yadda yadda. That's a reaction from years of living with anxiety and anticipating the worst. Unfortunately, it took me a few hours to chill out and see the good of the situation. Prior to that happening, poor Josh had to deal with me being a bundle of nerves. As it was, we had to wait a few hours between me seeing the doctor and having an echo done, so we ran a few errands. The entire time I was pretty out of it, and kept randomly bursting into tears. I'm sure sitting in a hospital waiting room and dealing with an emotional wife was exactly what Josh was picturing for his day off. I was able to realize (after some time), that I am lucky to see a doctor who can admit he can't give me the best possible care, and he's willing to send me to someone who can. I'm also lucky to live in a place where there are doctors with great skill and expertise.
For me the highlight of the day was the echo, which may sound weird, but hear me out. The echo tech was nice, and I could tell he was experienced by the types of questions he asked me. However, as the echo progressed I could tell he didn't have much experience with congenital heart disease. An echo for me normally takes about 30-45 minutes, tops. We were there for two hours. At one point in time, the echo tech stopped, looked something up in a reference book, then went back to work. That was a first for me. He also got a little confused/excited when he found some differences in my heart's anatomy, and seemed a bit perturbed by the whole situation. I can't help but laugh at it. I have had doctor's make comments to me when they listen to my heart, but I have never had someone seem so confused... and certainly they've never had to stop an echo to look something up... Wow. I had told Josh this test wasn't a big deal and it would be pretty quick. What a liar I turned out to be.
I had gotten spoiled with my last cardiologist who was smart enough to have his office schedule anything/everything I would need at one appointment. I always would go see him and have everything I needed done in one sitting. It doesn't work that way with the military. I was excited to have a few extra days off work this week... and instead I am spending those extra days off at Landstuhl (and driving the hour to and from Landstuhl). Yesterday I went down to get a Holter Monitor (24 hour heart monitor) which is one of my least favorite things in the world. It is uncomfortable, my skin reacts to the adhesive on the electrode patches, and I can't shower while wearing it. I also feel extremely self conscious while wearing it and feel people are staring (when I'm sure in reality they're not). I'm usually just a ball of joy while wearing it. So as I'm writing this I'm grumbling about the fact that I itch, and I'm counting down the time until I can rip this thing off. I have to head back to Landstuhl this afternoon for my stress test, which for me ranks right up there with a Holter. Basically a stress test is the treadmill from hell where the speed and incline increases every two minutes, and you go for as long as you can. Maybe I dislike it so much because cardiologists always seem disappointed when you say you've had enough and want to stop. But. I hate doing it. I keep trying to tell myself at least they will be done and out of the way... but I'm still not looking forward to it. .... focusing on the positive... focusing on the positive.
One last funny, small world note... As a part of me getting command sponsorship to get to Germany (which is a whole different story in itself) I had contacted German cardiologists to see if they would be willing/able to take me as a patient. I did most of my contact via email as that was a cheapest/easiest way to talk with the doctors. However, when I would initially contact a doctor I would provide my phone number. There was one cardiologist who called me (waking me up out of a dead sleep) only hours after I emailed him to tell me he would be more than happy to see me as a patient, and that he had experience with the military as he got referrals all the time. Guess who I'm being sent to see? You've got it.
Monday, March 19, 2012
Parting ways with caffeine
Like most people, I go through phases of my life where I decide I really need and want to focus on being a healthier person. For the most part these "health kicks" usually focus upon doing things just to make my heart healthier and happier, rather than loosing weight or eating better. Although, me eating better (less fat and sodium, as that is good for the heart) and working out (to give my heart some much needed exercise) usually result in some weight loss. But that's never really my goal, more just a nice side effect.
In the last few weeks I went to the doctor twice, once for a cold and to get a referral to a cardiologist (time for my yearly-ish checkup) and the other time for an allergic reaction. Both times I went in, my blood pressure was high. Well, not exactly high by normal standards, but high for me. Higher than it has been in quite a while. Silly as it seems, I've always kind of prided myself in my good blood pressure... because despite my heart's shortcomings, I've had a strong blood pressure with good range. But to have my blood pressure taken twice in about three weeks and both times to have it on the high side and within "borderline" range of being called high blood pressure... well, I don't like it. The last thing I need is to have something like that adding to any heart troubles, especially something which is relatively easy to reduce.
After my last "high blood pressure" moment, I drove home thinking about it. Some of you may laugh at this... but I was having a pep-talk with myself saying, "Ya know what? You're 27 now... and it's really time to start taking care of yourself long term." Which, yes it's funny as most people have this kind of talk with themselves possibly later in life, or 27 sounds really young (it is). However I feel in a lot of ways I'm fighting a bit of an uphill battle, and I may as well do everything I can to make things easier for myself. That being said... I know there are things I need to do to make my heart happier and my blood pressure lower. Starting with exercise.
In my time in Germany I have gotten plenty of walking in. When the weather cooperates we have some nice walking trails around our village which are away from the road and provide a beautiful background for some solitude. I also get in plenty of walking on our vacations. And although my job is "stationary," I feel that I spend a good part of my day moving/running around at work. However, my dedication to the gym has waned to the point of being nonexistent. Part of this is pure laziness. The other part has to do with me commuting and spending a few nights a week away from home. But... that really can't be an excuse anymore. It's going to be a challenge for me to push through being tired and brush past the excuses to force myself to get outside and walk/jog/ride my bike or go to the gym at night. It is important for me to do that.
The other major change that will occur... is I've decided to once again give up caffeine. To anyone who knows me, this is shocking. I love caffeine, not just coffee, all forms of it. I love coffee, I love lattes, mochas, Coke, Diet Coke, Dr. Pepper, Mt. Dew. I don't discriminate. I like caffeine hot, I like it cold, I like it made with milk, or carbonated. It doesn't really matter. It is a true love affair. Sadly, I'm also one of those people who if I don't have coffee in the morning I'm tired, grumpy, and I get a bad headache. Coffee is a family affair. When my immediate family (mom, dad, brother, myself) are together in the morning, we can easily, EASILY go through three pots of coffee. However, there was a point in my life a few years ago where I made the decision to give up caffeine (for my heart) and I was able to do it... and stuck to it for about six months. What brought back the coffee addiction was stress, honestly. I had a lot of things going on, I wasn't sleeping well, and it was easy to slip back into the coffee drinking habit. But. I know caffeine can cause your blood pressure to spike. I also know (from experience) that it can cause me to have heart palpitations. Basically my love of caffeine really doesn't do me any good (except help me to stay awake and work on homework). It will most likely be a rough few first days. I know it will be. But I'm hoping after that I will get over the hump and it will be smooth sailing. Fingers crossed. I'm smart enough to realize I have to wait until I'm done with this last round of papers/test for my classes - which will end next week. So. I have a "quit date." I know it is coming. Coffee, at least caffeinated coffee, and I must part ways. It is a sad goodbye.
In the last few weeks I went to the doctor twice, once for a cold and to get a referral to a cardiologist (time for my yearly-ish checkup) and the other time for an allergic reaction. Both times I went in, my blood pressure was high. Well, not exactly high by normal standards, but high for me. Higher than it has been in quite a while. Silly as it seems, I've always kind of prided myself in my good blood pressure... because despite my heart's shortcomings, I've had a strong blood pressure with good range. But to have my blood pressure taken twice in about three weeks and both times to have it on the high side and within "borderline" range of being called high blood pressure... well, I don't like it. The last thing I need is to have something like that adding to any heart troubles, especially something which is relatively easy to reduce.
After my last "high blood pressure" moment, I drove home thinking about it. Some of you may laugh at this... but I was having a pep-talk with myself saying, "Ya know what? You're 27 now... and it's really time to start taking care of yourself long term." Which, yes it's funny as most people have this kind of talk with themselves possibly later in life, or 27 sounds really young (it is). However I feel in a lot of ways I'm fighting a bit of an uphill battle, and I may as well do everything I can to make things easier for myself. That being said... I know there are things I need to do to make my heart happier and my blood pressure lower. Starting with exercise.
In my time in Germany I have gotten plenty of walking in. When the weather cooperates we have some nice walking trails around our village which are away from the road and provide a beautiful background for some solitude. I also get in plenty of walking on our vacations. And although my job is "stationary," I feel that I spend a good part of my day moving/running around at work. However, my dedication to the gym has waned to the point of being nonexistent. Part of this is pure laziness. The other part has to do with me commuting and spending a few nights a week away from home. But... that really can't be an excuse anymore. It's going to be a challenge for me to push through being tired and brush past the excuses to force myself to get outside and walk/jog/ride my bike or go to the gym at night. It is important for me to do that.
The other major change that will occur... is I've decided to once again give up caffeine. To anyone who knows me, this is shocking. I love caffeine, not just coffee, all forms of it. I love coffee, I love lattes, mochas, Coke, Diet Coke, Dr. Pepper, Mt. Dew. I don't discriminate. I like caffeine hot, I like it cold, I like it made with milk, or carbonated. It doesn't really matter. It is a true love affair. Sadly, I'm also one of those people who if I don't have coffee in the morning I'm tired, grumpy, and I get a bad headache. Coffee is a family affair. When my immediate family (mom, dad, brother, myself) are together in the morning, we can easily, EASILY go through three pots of coffee. However, there was a point in my life a few years ago where I made the decision to give up caffeine (for my heart) and I was able to do it... and stuck to it for about six months. What brought back the coffee addiction was stress, honestly. I had a lot of things going on, I wasn't sleeping well, and it was easy to slip back into the coffee drinking habit. But. I know caffeine can cause your blood pressure to spike. I also know (from experience) that it can cause me to have heart palpitations. Basically my love of caffeine really doesn't do me any good (except help me to stay awake and work on homework). It will most likely be a rough few first days. I know it will be. But I'm hoping after that I will get over the hump and it will be smooth sailing. Fingers crossed. I'm smart enough to realize I have to wait until I'm done with this last round of papers/test for my classes - which will end next week. So. I have a "quit date." I know it is coming. Coffee, at least caffeinated coffee, and I must part ways. It is a sad goodbye.
Sunday, March 11, 2012
Read This
I don't necessarily post links to things very often, for reasons that I'm lazy and I tend to just keep things to myself. However, I really want to share this. A friend of mine had posted a link on facebook to a blog and said "This little boy needed a lot of prayers." The title of the blog caught my attention, and as it turns out it was a blog which was recently created so I was able to read all the posts and "catch up" quickly. The story is tragic, heartbreaking, and yet I can't stop reading.
This is the story about Eddie, who is a 3 year old in the Seattle area. Until recently he appeared to be perfectly healthy, however that all changed when he suddenly collapsed a few weeks ago. The family discovered Eddie has a heart condition called cardio myopathy, which basically means the heart is working extra hard, grows large and doesn't function well (not enough blood/oxygen is moved around). There is no "cure" for this condition, the only thing that can be done is either a combination of medications to make the heart not work as hard, or to have a heart transplant. This little boy and his family is having to face a heart transplant in the very near future. Just imagine that on New Years they thought their life was normal, blessed... and now everything has changed. They are facing a huge medical procedure (if they find a heart for him and if he survives the surgery) and a lifetime of fighting to stay alive (because surviving the transplant surgery is really the easy part...).
As I said, it is heartbreaking but I can't stop reading it. Maybe that's because in some weird way I feel drawn to this little boy, or I feel like I relate to him. Is this what my family went through? Was it like this? The constant waiting, the emotional stress? To be 3 and have no idea what you really up against. To be fighting for your life and have no idea.
But I also feel so incredibly lucky. I am so lucky that my heart defect was something which could be fixed by a surgery, that I didn't need a transplant. I am lucky I had parents (like Eddie's parents) who did everything they could to make sure they knew all of the treatment options, and picked the best treatment, the best doctors. I am lucky my parents were advocates for me, fought for me - but at the same time never let me know what was going on, or how gravely serious and scary it was. I was lucky. I AM lucky. I am lucky that I am a "success." I wish Eddie and his family the same.
As I said... I'm not usually a person who shares things. But please, take a moment, read Eddie's story, and say a prayer for this little boy who is literally fighting for his life.
This is the story about Eddie, who is a 3 year old in the Seattle area. Until recently he appeared to be perfectly healthy, however that all changed when he suddenly collapsed a few weeks ago. The family discovered Eddie has a heart condition called cardio myopathy, which basically means the heart is working extra hard, grows large and doesn't function well (not enough blood/oxygen is moved around). There is no "cure" for this condition, the only thing that can be done is either a combination of medications to make the heart not work as hard, or to have a heart transplant. This little boy and his family is having to face a heart transplant in the very near future. Just imagine that on New Years they thought their life was normal, blessed... and now everything has changed. They are facing a huge medical procedure (if they find a heart for him and if he survives the surgery) and a lifetime of fighting to stay alive (because surviving the transplant surgery is really the easy part...).
As I said, it is heartbreaking but I can't stop reading it. Maybe that's because in some weird way I feel drawn to this little boy, or I feel like I relate to him. Is this what my family went through? Was it like this? The constant waiting, the emotional stress? To be 3 and have no idea what you really up against. To be fighting for your life and have no idea.
But I also feel so incredibly lucky. I am so lucky that my heart defect was something which could be fixed by a surgery, that I didn't need a transplant. I am lucky I had parents (like Eddie's parents) who did everything they could to make sure they knew all of the treatment options, and picked the best treatment, the best doctors. I am lucky my parents were advocates for me, fought for me - but at the same time never let me know what was going on, or how gravely serious and scary it was. I was lucky. I AM lucky. I am lucky that I am a "success." I wish Eddie and his family the same.
As I said... I'm not usually a person who shares things. But please, take a moment, read Eddie's story, and say a prayer for this little boy who is literally fighting for his life.
Friday, March 9, 2012
It's been a long week
It has been a long week.
Josh hasn't even been gone for a week... yet it seems longer.
On Saturday (which seems as if it were weeks ago) I woke up to get ready for work and discovered we were out of hot water (sadly, this isn't the first time and it won't be the last). So I had to get ready without showering (which I really hate to do) and took off for work. Saturday shifts at the office usually are pretty quick and mostly painless, but that day it was miserable. Everyone, it seemed, was in a bad mood and it made for a bit of a toxic environment. Everything that could have gone wrong did. I left work in a bad mood myself, and came home to an empty house (as Josh had left) which was cold since the heat wasn't working either. Great, just great.
I had made the decision prior to Josh leaving that instead of driving down to work and staying the night with Jimmy, I would drive back home at night to give the cats some much needed attention/company. I thought this would be miserable, but really it hasn't been too bad. The drive itself never really seems that long, I notice it more when I get home and I take stock of how much time I wasted driving. It just gets old. And expensive... as our gas on base just jumped up to $4.15 a gallon, and that is at our "discounted" rate. The jump in fuel prices and my extra driving just doubled my gas budget.
It has been a long, lonely week. I think the "lonely" part is a key reason why it has been so long. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself and function on my own when Josh is gone. However, it's really nice to have him here. I miss his friendship. As he's been gone I really haven't gotten to talk to him much - we've Skyped twice (with a horrible internet connection which made it almost impossible to hear) and emailed. Most evenings I've found that I am just plain exhausted, and have been going to bed early like a little old grandma.
All that complaining aside, I am thankful and grateful... thankful that this is a very quick, short time for him to be gone. I'm thankful there is now the technology of Skype and email to make keeping in touch so easy. I'm thankful that while I hate my commute, I'm only gone from my house for around 13 hours, which compared to other people's jobs/shifts isn't bad. And I am thankful for good friends, ice cream, and falling asleep watching Finding Nemo. May the next few weeks go faster than this past one...
Josh hasn't even been gone for a week... yet it seems longer.
On Saturday (which seems as if it were weeks ago) I woke up to get ready for work and discovered we were out of hot water (sadly, this isn't the first time and it won't be the last). So I had to get ready without showering (which I really hate to do) and took off for work. Saturday shifts at the office usually are pretty quick and mostly painless, but that day it was miserable. Everyone, it seemed, was in a bad mood and it made for a bit of a toxic environment. Everything that could have gone wrong did. I left work in a bad mood myself, and came home to an empty house (as Josh had left) which was cold since the heat wasn't working either. Great, just great.
I had made the decision prior to Josh leaving that instead of driving down to work and staying the night with Jimmy, I would drive back home at night to give the cats some much needed attention/company. I thought this would be miserable, but really it hasn't been too bad. The drive itself never really seems that long, I notice it more when I get home and I take stock of how much time I wasted driving. It just gets old. And expensive... as our gas on base just jumped up to $4.15 a gallon, and that is at our "discounted" rate. The jump in fuel prices and my extra driving just doubled my gas budget.
It has been a long, lonely week. I think the "lonely" part is a key reason why it has been so long. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself and function on my own when Josh is gone. However, it's really nice to have him here. I miss his friendship. As he's been gone I really haven't gotten to talk to him much - we've Skyped twice (with a horrible internet connection which made it almost impossible to hear) and emailed. Most evenings I've found that I am just plain exhausted, and have been going to bed early like a little old grandma.
All that complaining aside, I am thankful and grateful... thankful that this is a very quick, short time for him to be gone. I'm thankful there is now the technology of Skype and email to make keeping in touch so easy. I'm thankful that while I hate my commute, I'm only gone from my house for around 13 hours, which compared to other people's jobs/shifts isn't bad. And I am thankful for good friends, ice cream, and falling asleep watching Finding Nemo. May the next few weeks go faster than this past one...
Thursday, March 1, 2012
Packing
Josh is in the process of preparing to leave on TDY (temporary duty for my non-military folks). I won't say where he's headed until he returns, but I think it will be a bit of a nice break for him to get out of the "usual" routine (despite the fact that I will miss him). I will miss him, but he is only scheduled to be gone three weeks. Three weeks is really nothing, and I'm frankly just thankful that it is three weeks and not three months, six months, a year, 18 months... Three weeks is nothing to complain about.
When Josh is packing for a trip like this, he has multiple large bags he fills. I call them "military issue" bags, and they are literally the biggest bags I have ever seen in my life. Any military wife could understand the sinking feeling you get when you see those bags come out... When Josh and I were first dating he had been staying at my house for a few weeks, and he was leaving in the morning to go Korea. His clothes and belongings had been strung around the floor of my room for the past few weeks. That evening after our "farewell" dinner, he brought out his military bags and started to fill them with his stuff. It was the first time it really hit me that he was going to leave, yet again. And I cried. Oh how I cried... inconsolably, and endlessly it seemed. Not one of my finer moments, and definitely not a shining "supportive" moment either. However, I've gotten used to see the big bags come out and watch them get filled with months worth of clothing and supplies. Tears aren't really an issue anymore.
Tonight Josh's packing has actually turned out to be a bit more amusing than usual.... Any thought of tears quickly turned into laughter.
The cats can't quite seem to figure out what these bags are... or what all the smells are. But the bag seems to make a great toy.
When Josh is packing for a trip like this, he has multiple large bags he fills. I call them "military issue" bags, and they are literally the biggest bags I have ever seen in my life. Any military wife could understand the sinking feeling you get when you see those bags come out... When Josh and I were first dating he had been staying at my house for a few weeks, and he was leaving in the morning to go Korea. His clothes and belongings had been strung around the floor of my room for the past few weeks. That evening after our "farewell" dinner, he brought out his military bags and started to fill them with his stuff. It was the first time it really hit me that he was going to leave, yet again. And I cried. Oh how I cried... inconsolably, and endlessly it seemed. Not one of my finer moments, and definitely not a shining "supportive" moment either. However, I've gotten used to see the big bags come out and watch them get filled with months worth of clothing and supplies. Tears aren't really an issue anymore.
Tonight Josh's packing has actually turned out to be a bit more amusing than usual.... Any thought of tears quickly turned into laughter.
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