I was released from the hospital at about 11 this morning. The fact that I am competent to – and willing to – give myself regular injections means that I can come back home. Yay!
I have just been out to the pharmacy to get my supply of blood thinners. These are in pill form – the long term medicine – and syringes that I’ll use for the next few days.
The blood thinners must be working. They are said to increase bruising and I’m sprouting all manner of interesting bruises around the injection sites. One is fairly striking; I think it was the first spot I tried injecting myself and I was not as steady as I have become.
So for now I am an invalid at home. More comfortable but still advised to go easy and keep my leg elevated. I have a variety of things to watch out for and responsibilities to take pills, inject medicines, go in to the blood lab, call the doctor’s office, and the like.
I hope to head back to work on Monday. I have no major activity restrictions, though I’m not meant to work-out, play golf, or mow the lawn for a week or so.
I’m sure there are valuable life-lessons here. I will try to process all this and note them when I can!
And thanks for all the kind thoughts, folks. Both in comments and in e-mails and calls.
Thursday, August 25, 2005
Wednesday, August 24, 2005
Now, Here's a Surprise
I am writing this from a hospital bed in Beebe Medical Center, in Lewes Delaware. It’s Wednesday, August 24, in the afternoon. I had expected to post this when I get home again. I find, however, that Beebe has a wireless network, open for guests, patrons and I assume patients, so I might as well post it now!
I’ve been here since yesterday afternoon with a blood clot in my left calf. Technically, this is known as a Deep Vein Thrombosis (DVT). Apparently, small bits have broken off in the least week or so and settled in my lungs. This is known as a Pulmonary Embolism.
As a result, I have been hospitalized overnight for the first time in my life. But I have to admit that I feel slightly guilty about the whole thing. I feel fine, while all around me are patients coughing and groaning in the night. They are bandaged and broken and I feel like a complete fraud.
Just this moment, the nurses brought an older gentleman in and put him into the other bed in the room. One of the nurses transporting him looked at me and said “What are you doing here? You look fine!”
That’s the problem.
It seems likely that I’ve been suffering, if that’s the right word, with this clot thing for a few weeks. I went to see my doctor this past Monday because of a lingering soreness in my calf. I guess I’d noticed soreness in that leg in the week or so before that, but wrote it off as part of the aging process.
Last week, I noticed tightness in my chest for several days. I felt like I might be coming down with something; like I might be getting bronchitis. But it didn’t last. I also noticed a slight fever a few days later, but that didn’t last.
In fact, I felt well enough on Sunday to walk and play 18 holes of golf. I need to go back and edit my write-up of that game to insert the excuse for my terrible play; I had a Pulmonary Embolism! Of course I played like crap!
But the soreness stayed in my leg and on Monday afternoon I went to get it checked out at my Doctor’s office. I saw the nurse-practitioner and had the possibility of a blood clot in my mind. But the symptoms didn’t quite fit and she thought it sounded more like varicose veins, though we decided to get an ultrasound scan to check for a clot, just in case.
Tuesday, I went in for jury duty and, when I wasn’t picked for the one trial that day, I called the hospital to set up an appointment for the scan for that afternoon. I will admit that I was uncertain whether I wanted it to be a clot or varicose veins; varicose veins would probably be preferable, but they also seem to signal middle age and I’d really like to hold that off as long as I can.
In the event, the technician looked up from the scan and told me she had found a clot, that I should grab a seat, and let her call my Doctor. That was a rough moment.
It wasn’t long before Dr. Robinson was on the phone. She was apologetic, but let me know that I would have to be admitted and start a treatment of blood thinners for a while. The hospitalization is to make sure that, if anything bad were to happen with the clot; they could take care of it. At that point, we didn’t know about the embolism.
So I checked in and was wheeled up to a room on the third floor. An elderly gentleman pushed my wheel-chair for me. I had the sense that it was a strain for the poor guy. I could have walked but do understand why I shouldn’t.
Now I have a valve inserted into the back of my left hand, to allow intravenous stuff when needed. I have several wrist-bands on my right hand, outlining who I am and what I’m allergic to. A switchboard’s worth of wires are connected to sensors on my chest and stomach and connected together to a sensor pack the size of a Steven King paperback – from early in his career, when he had a lot to say.
This thing broadcasts my heart rate and other signs to a control room somewhere. If something bad happens, I assume this will cause all manner of alarms to go off. From a practical standpoint, this is just something I have to juggle as I move around. This is even funnier when you understand that, for purposes of measuring inputs and outflow, the nurses have asked me to use a hand-held urinal. Thus, I have a regular job that requires three hands, and I have only two.
But this is not really all that uncomfortable. When I think of what some of these other folks are going through, I just feel guilty.
Anyway. I’ve had several productive visits with Dr. Robinson, who is a very young woman, a new mom, but a good doctor. I think she is somewhat struck by my lack of overt symptoms. I have gone back over the last few weeks with her to dredge up anything I can think of that might be related.
When I told her about the chest-tightness, she ordered a CAT scan, which is an interesting process. An iodine solution was injected through the valve, to provide contrast. The technician warned that this would likely make me feel warm, and to did. Like a quick flush of fever in the skin.
The CAT scan confirmed the embolism; I have one in each lung. I wonder if I can get a copy of part of the CAT scan. I could use it as an on-line icon for myself.
Based on my talk with Dr. Robinson this morning, I should be okay. The drugs I’ve started on will thin my blood and reduce its ability to clot. This will both reduce the chance of bits breaking off the clot I have and reduce its potential growth. That should allow my body's natural processes to break it down and get rid of it. My lungs may have some lasting scars from this episode, but nothing too terribly worrisome.
The more interesting question is why I got the clot. It may be the case that a whack on the ankle at some point started the process. Our long drives too and from the Tyler Place last month may have played a role. It’s also possible that here’s a genetic reason. My father tells me he’s had a DVT incident – following a surgery – and that his father had had some bouts of what was then called Phlebitis but that might have been a thrombosis.
She’s sending off a large amount of blood for tests that may shed some light on that question. If there is a genetic predisposition, I will probably have to take blood thinners from here on out. In any case, I expect to be on them for he next half-year or so.
So here I am. I hope to be able to go home tomorrow. One question controlling that was whether my insurance would cover the cost of a series of syringes with which I will need to inject myself over the next week or so. I didn’t think I’d be willing to try that, but I did one of them this morning and I think I can handle it.
I’ve been here since yesterday afternoon with a blood clot in my left calf. Technically, this is known as a Deep Vein Thrombosis (DVT). Apparently, small bits have broken off in the least week or so and settled in my lungs. This is known as a Pulmonary Embolism.
As a result, I have been hospitalized overnight for the first time in my life. But I have to admit that I feel slightly guilty about the whole thing. I feel fine, while all around me are patients coughing and groaning in the night. They are bandaged and broken and I feel like a complete fraud.
Just this moment, the nurses brought an older gentleman in and put him into the other bed in the room. One of the nurses transporting him looked at me and said “What are you doing here? You look fine!”
That’s the problem.
It seems likely that I’ve been suffering, if that’s the right word, with this clot thing for a few weeks. I went to see my doctor this past Monday because of a lingering soreness in my calf. I guess I’d noticed soreness in that leg in the week or so before that, but wrote it off as part of the aging process.
Last week, I noticed tightness in my chest for several days. I felt like I might be coming down with something; like I might be getting bronchitis. But it didn’t last. I also noticed a slight fever a few days later, but that didn’t last.
In fact, I felt well enough on Sunday to walk and play 18 holes of golf. I need to go back and edit my write-up of that game to insert the excuse for my terrible play; I had a Pulmonary Embolism! Of course I played like crap!
But the soreness stayed in my leg and on Monday afternoon I went to get it checked out at my Doctor’s office. I saw the nurse-practitioner and had the possibility of a blood clot in my mind. But the symptoms didn’t quite fit and she thought it sounded more like varicose veins, though we decided to get an ultrasound scan to check for a clot, just in case.
Tuesday, I went in for jury duty and, when I wasn’t picked for the one trial that day, I called the hospital to set up an appointment for the scan for that afternoon. I will admit that I was uncertain whether I wanted it to be a clot or varicose veins; varicose veins would probably be preferable, but they also seem to signal middle age and I’d really like to hold that off as long as I can.
In the event, the technician looked up from the scan and told me she had found a clot, that I should grab a seat, and let her call my Doctor. That was a rough moment.
It wasn’t long before Dr. Robinson was on the phone. She was apologetic, but let me know that I would have to be admitted and start a treatment of blood thinners for a while. The hospitalization is to make sure that, if anything bad were to happen with the clot; they could take care of it. At that point, we didn’t know about the embolism.
So I checked in and was wheeled up to a room on the third floor. An elderly gentleman pushed my wheel-chair for me. I had the sense that it was a strain for the poor guy. I could have walked but do understand why I shouldn’t.
Now I have a valve inserted into the back of my left hand, to allow intravenous stuff when needed. I have several wrist-bands on my right hand, outlining who I am and what I’m allergic to. A switchboard’s worth of wires are connected to sensors on my chest and stomach and connected together to a sensor pack the size of a Steven King paperback – from early in his career, when he had a lot to say.
This thing broadcasts my heart rate and other signs to a control room somewhere. If something bad happens, I assume this will cause all manner of alarms to go off. From a practical standpoint, this is just something I have to juggle as I move around. This is even funnier when you understand that, for purposes of measuring inputs and outflow, the nurses have asked me to use a hand-held urinal. Thus, I have a regular job that requires three hands, and I have only two.
But this is not really all that uncomfortable. When I think of what some of these other folks are going through, I just feel guilty.
Anyway. I’ve had several productive visits with Dr. Robinson, who is a very young woman, a new mom, but a good doctor. I think she is somewhat struck by my lack of overt symptoms. I have gone back over the last few weeks with her to dredge up anything I can think of that might be related.
When I told her about the chest-tightness, she ordered a CAT scan, which is an interesting process. An iodine solution was injected through the valve, to provide contrast. The technician warned that this would likely make me feel warm, and to did. Like a quick flush of fever in the skin.
The CAT scan confirmed the embolism; I have one in each lung. I wonder if I can get a copy of part of the CAT scan. I could use it as an on-line icon for myself.
Based on my talk with Dr. Robinson this morning, I should be okay. The drugs I’ve started on will thin my blood and reduce its ability to clot. This will both reduce the chance of bits breaking off the clot I have and reduce its potential growth. That should allow my body's natural processes to break it down and get rid of it. My lungs may have some lasting scars from this episode, but nothing too terribly worrisome.
The more interesting question is why I got the clot. It may be the case that a whack on the ankle at some point started the process. Our long drives too and from the Tyler Place last month may have played a role. It’s also possible that here’s a genetic reason. My father tells me he’s had a DVT incident – following a surgery – and that his father had had some bouts of what was then called Phlebitis but that might have been a thrombosis.
She’s sending off a large amount of blood for tests that may shed some light on that question. If there is a genetic predisposition, I will probably have to take blood thinners from here on out. In any case, I expect to be on them for he next half-year or so.
So here I am. I hope to be able to go home tomorrow. One question controlling that was whether my insurance would cover the cost of a series of syringes with which I will need to inject myself over the next week or so. I didn’t think I’d be willing to try that, but I did one of them this morning and I think I can handle it.
Monday, August 22, 2005
Is It Time for a Naming Ceremony?
In two weeks and one day, this weblog will turn one year old. Back on that first day, I did a Google search and found some 700 "Mike's Musings" out there.
I wish I had either a) checked before naming the dang thing, or b) immediately come up with something else. I didn't.
I just checked again, there now appear to be about 7,000 Mike's Musings. Oh dear.
Over the next two weeks, I want to think about maybe finding a new name.
What do you think?
I wish I had either a) checked before naming the dang thing, or b) immediately come up with something else. I didn't.
I just checked again, there now appear to be about 7,000 Mike's Musings. Oh dear.
Over the next two weeks, I want to think about maybe finding a new name.
What do you think?
Four Trumpets, Four French Horns, Two Trombones, Two Bass Trombones and a Tuba (With Percussion)
Last night, Karen and I attended the second concert of this summer’s Lewes Chamber Music Festival. This was a performance by a brass ensemble called Brass Engine. They played a mix of composed classical and modern music, church music and renaissance dances.
The Festival is organized by Sheridan Seyfried, a conservatory student, musician and composer and the son of our friends Steve and Elsie Seyfried. Last night included the premier of Sheridan’s Mad Jack’s Revenge, a new composition commissioned by Brass Engine.
Sheridan is the eldest of five. His younger brother is entering his second year (I think) at the Naval Academy at Annapolis. His younger sister, a high-school student, has just started a year of study in Thailand. The two younger siblings also show promise of creativity and individuality.
Karen and I feel that, if we can do half as well with our kids as Steve and Elise have done raising theirs, we will have done well.
By the way, if you ever have a chance to hear a brass ensemble this good, take it. What a full, rich, sweet sound.
The Festival is organized by Sheridan Seyfried, a conservatory student, musician and composer and the son of our friends Steve and Elsie Seyfried. Last night included the premier of Sheridan’s Mad Jack’s Revenge, a new composition commissioned by Brass Engine.
Sheridan is the eldest of five. His younger brother is entering his second year (I think) at the Naval Academy at Annapolis. His younger sister, a high-school student, has just started a year of study in Thailand. The two younger siblings also show promise of creativity and individuality.
Karen and I feel that, if we can do half as well with our kids as Steve and Elise have done raising theirs, we will have done well.
By the way, if you ever have a chance to hear a brass ensemble this good, take it. What a full, rich, sweet sound.
My Little Car and I In The Newspaper
An article in yesterday's News Journal on the rise in demand for hybrid cars as gas prices rise -- More drivers turning to hybrid options -- included several quotes from yours truly.
I was slightly disappointed that the reporter did not pick up on my thesis that the low emissions from these cars are also a big reason that many of us wanted to buy them. There is a mention of the low emissions factor, deep in the article, but I wanted to make the point that that factor meant more -- to me at least -- than the gas savings.
I was just as proud of my car when gas was at $1.98 per gallon as I am at $2.56 or whatever it is this morning.
I was slightly disappointed that the reporter did not pick up on my thesis that the low emissions from these cars are also a big reason that many of us wanted to buy them. There is a mention of the low emissions factor, deep in the article, but I wanted to make the point that that factor meant more -- to me at least -- than the gas savings.
I was just as proud of my car when gas was at $1.98 per gallon as I am at $2.56 or whatever it is this morning.
Sunday, August 21, 2005
Ninth Golf Game in 2005
I played 18 holes with Andy Southmayd at the Heritage Golf Course today. I played abysmally; absolutely abysmally.
It may have been the heat. It may have been the fact that I’m fighting a cold. It may also have been the crappy condition of the course. But the abysmal-ness of my golf game remains.
The course was in bad shape. The heat this summer has made course maintenance very hard. But this course is being let go a bit, I think. It is slated to be shortened and a set of townhouses put in and I think hey aren’t putting quite the same energy into taking care of it that they once did.
A shame, really.
Update: I have an excuse! Yay! Turns out, I was playing that game with a blood clot in my leg and in both my lungs. Given that, I think I played ... okay.
It may have been the heat. It may have been the fact that I’m fighting a cold. It may also have been the crappy condition of the course. But the abysmal-ness of my golf game remains.
The course was in bad shape. The heat this summer has made course maintenance very hard. But this course is being let go a bit, I think. It is slated to be shortened and a set of townhouses put in and I think hey aren’t putting quite the same energy into taking care of it that they once did.
A shame, really.
Update: I have an excuse! Yay! Turns out, I was playing that game with a blood clot in my leg and in both my lungs. Given that, I think I played ... okay.
Friday, August 19, 2005
Big Flame Update
We were back at Tokyo Steak House this evening. Our waiter was Tom, who we’ve had before. We were comfortable enough to ask him why the Big Flame no longer bursts above the mid-table grills at Tokyo.
According to Tom, the flame is gone because… someone complained. The flame scared their small child. So management decided to douse the flame.
I would have expected someone to have been singed, at least. But, scared?
According to Tom, the flame is gone because… someone complained. The flame scared their small child. So management decided to douse the flame.
I would have expected someone to have been singed, at least. But, scared?
Thursday, August 18, 2005
A Visit to Moore's Lake
I took my lunch hour at Moore's Lake today, and took along my camera.
Moore's Lake is a state-run fishing/boating access point just south of Dover. It includes a very cool dam/spillway and fish ladder.
I found it a very pretty place.
Moore's Lake is a state-run fishing/boating access point just south of Dover. It includes a very cool dam/spillway and fish ladder.
I found it a very pretty place.
Wednesday, August 17, 2005
Jury Duty!
I reported to Sussex County Superior Court at 9:00 a.m. this morning to start my latest round of jury duty.
Here in Sussex, we serve in the jury pool for two weeks. During that time, we’re on-call to be picked for a trial. If we get picked for a long trial, we’re there for the duration. Otherwise, we’re back into the pool.
My jury duty started on August 15 and runs through the 26th. We call a special phone number each evening and a recording tells us whether to report or not the following morning. We were not asked to come in until today and today appears to be our only day of duty for this week. Next week? Who knows?
We were there today for a quick orientation to jury duty and for 40 of us to sit as a jury pool for the Court of Common Pleas. I wasn’t among the 40 chosen randomly and so by 10:30 I was headed north to my office.
I looked around the courtroom this morning at what is meant to be a random cross section of Sussex County residents. I think it was. A few young folks, a fair number of retirees; some African American, some Latino, the majority Caucasian.
I would be willing to wager that I was the only – or at least one of the only – folks there who was hoping to sit in the jury box for a trial. Most folks are resentful of an intrusion into their routine; they spend the time worrying about work or wishing they were back home.
I think it really is a part of our duty as citizens to serve on juries. We should vote. We should speak up on issues (after first learning about them). We should serve our jury duty. The legal system really does depend on us; I’m glad to serve.
Also, from a selfish point of view, I’m fascinated by the legal process. I’d like to watch a trial from up-close, without being a defendant, a witness, or a victim.
So, we’ll see what next week brings. If I do get on a jury, though, I won’t be blogging about it. Maybe I will post about it after it ends, but then only about the experience and not about any details of the trial. I think that that would be inappropriate.
Here in Sussex, we serve in the jury pool for two weeks. During that time, we’re on-call to be picked for a trial. If we get picked for a long trial, we’re there for the duration. Otherwise, we’re back into the pool.
My jury duty started on August 15 and runs through the 26th. We call a special phone number each evening and a recording tells us whether to report or not the following morning. We were not asked to come in until today and today appears to be our only day of duty for this week. Next week? Who knows?
We were there today for a quick orientation to jury duty and for 40 of us to sit as a jury pool for the Court of Common Pleas. I wasn’t among the 40 chosen randomly and so by 10:30 I was headed north to my office.
I looked around the courtroom this morning at what is meant to be a random cross section of Sussex County residents. I think it was. A few young folks, a fair number of retirees; some African American, some Latino, the majority Caucasian.
I would be willing to wager that I was the only – or at least one of the only – folks there who was hoping to sit in the jury box for a trial. Most folks are resentful of an intrusion into their routine; they spend the time worrying about work or wishing they were back home.
I think it really is a part of our duty as citizens to serve on juries. We should vote. We should speak up on issues (after first learning about them). We should serve our jury duty. The legal system really does depend on us; I’m glad to serve.
Also, from a selfish point of view, I’m fascinated by the legal process. I’d like to watch a trial from up-close, without being a defendant, a witness, or a victim.
So, we’ll see what next week brings. If I do get on a jury, though, I won’t be blogging about it. Maybe I will post about it after it ends, but then only about the experience and not about any details of the trial. I think that that would be inappropriate.
Tuesday, August 16, 2005
Where Did the Big Flame Go?
We went out to dinner this evening with my brother Matt and his wife and kids. We went to Tokyo Steak House, which is one of our favorites.
Tokyo Steak House is a hibachi-style restaurant, with table settings around a large central grill. The food is cooked in front of you by a chef who mixes-in showmanship, knife tricks and egg-juggling. He slices. He dices. He sprinkles-in spices. The food is very good; the chef’s show is a large part of the fun.
It used to be the case that that show started with a great cloud of flame. The chef would create a puddle of some flammable liquor (Sake?), light a smaller puddle off to the side, and connect the two with a final squirt of the liquor. A flash of flame would rise up into the vent-hood starting the show off with a bang.
This evening, and the last time we were there a few weeks back, there was no introductory flame. I have to wonder, why?
Are there safety concerns? Was there an incident? Did someone loose a substantial hank of hair to singeing? I just don’t know.
I have to say that I miss it. They won’t lose our business; we like the place very much.
But I do miss the flame.
Tokyo Steak House is a hibachi-style restaurant, with table settings around a large central grill. The food is cooked in front of you by a chef who mixes-in showmanship, knife tricks and egg-juggling. He slices. He dices. He sprinkles-in spices. The food is very good; the chef’s show is a large part of the fun.
It used to be the case that that show started with a great cloud of flame. The chef would create a puddle of some flammable liquor (Sake?), light a smaller puddle off to the side, and connect the two with a final squirt of the liquor. A flash of flame would rise up into the vent-hood starting the show off with a bang.
This evening, and the last time we were there a few weeks back, there was no introductory flame. I have to wonder, why?
Are there safety concerns? Was there an incident? Did someone loose a substantial hank of hair to singeing? I just don’t know.
I have to say that I miss it. They won’t lose our business; we like the place very much.
But I do miss the flame.
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