No! Not you! This is severely unfair, and I demand to speak to the manager :( I hope you start feeling better and I hope you will undauntingly keep writing. Your unique voice is needed here.
You're always writing great stuff, but this was riveting! Partly, because, at 86 and having had a very weird "episode" similar to yours, but not specific enough to be named, I was living every moment with you.
Only after a few days was I able to see the humor in a body that rebelled and a mind that suggested I do foolish things. I was like a toddler operating in a grown-up world.
Argh! Good luck to you. Becoming a medical object is damn hard and a sense of humor is necessary.
I had the dubious thrill of six nights at St. Pete's anticipating having my chest cracked open and my heart manhandled to fix a couple clogged arteries last summer. Good odds of survival without complications, I was told. Not totally reassuring as I read, listened to music (Dead & Company was a little too on point) and sometimes slept. My rather Goth daughter and I bonded over this being the "blood chicken" (cf. Viking blood eagle) procedure, dark humor nobody else in the family laughed at.
Literally at the last minute, after I was fully shaved and swabbed and stoned-out on the way from pre-op to the operating theater the cardiologist appeared to say they needed to double-check some readings. Turned out stents were the solution instead, and that the planned bypass surgery would have been a debilitating mistake. So, no chest invasion; all dressed up and no place to go, but a bullet dodged.
If you're interested here's my take on visiting St. Pete's in the buildup to last summer: II. Beam Me Up, McCoy - by John R. Christiansen https://share.google/p2mq9BqrbACqcCQit
And thanks very much for a well-written piece. I appreciate your work!
Very happy you have survived your hospital adventure and can still write about it. I just discovered you and would like more access to your unique way of looking at the world. I often wonder why life has to be so mysterious, but that's just how the game is rigged. I love the way your mind works and your way with words and I live in Tumwater. Perhaps you and your GF and I could meet for coffee someday. Rockon, Sir!
No! Not you! This is severely unfair, and I demand to speak to the manager :( I hope you start feeling better and I hope you will undauntingly keep writing. Your unique voice is needed here.
You're always writing great stuff, but this was riveting! Partly, because, at 86 and having had a very weird "episode" similar to yours, but not specific enough to be named, I was living every moment with you.
Only after a few days was I able to see the humor in a body that rebelled and a mind that suggested I do foolish things. I was like a toddler operating in a grown-up world.
Heal well.
David, Bean here, perhaps the docs can check your heart for patent foramen ovale, a hole in the heart wall separating the two chambers.
The discovery of this congenital thing explained my two mini-strokes. Clots travel thru to the brain. Then, ZAP. Get well David.
The Land of Funny Business, indeed!
⚡️🛸🍄🛸⚡️
Argh! Good luck to you. Becoming a medical object is damn hard and a sense of humor is necessary.
I had the dubious thrill of six nights at St. Pete's anticipating having my chest cracked open and my heart manhandled to fix a couple clogged arteries last summer. Good odds of survival without complications, I was told. Not totally reassuring as I read, listened to music (Dead & Company was a little too on point) and sometimes slept. My rather Goth daughter and I bonded over this being the "blood chicken" (cf. Viking blood eagle) procedure, dark humor nobody else in the family laughed at.
Literally at the last minute, after I was fully shaved and swabbed and stoned-out on the way from pre-op to the operating theater the cardiologist appeared to say they needed to double-check some readings. Turned out stents were the solution instead, and that the planned bypass surgery would have been a debilitating mistake. So, no chest invasion; all dressed up and no place to go, but a bullet dodged.
If you're interested here's my take on visiting St. Pete's in the buildup to last summer: II. Beam Me Up, McCoy - by John R. Christiansen https://share.google/p2mq9BqrbACqcCQit
And thanks very much for a well-written piece. I appreciate your work!
David, Sending love and good vibes your way. What a scary thing. Onward and upward for you!! - Bob
Laura, yes, please. This really made my day. THANK YOU.
Very happy you have survived your hospital adventure and can still write about it. I just discovered you and would like more access to your unique way of looking at the world. I often wonder why life has to be so mysterious, but that's just how the game is rigged. I love the way your mind works and your way with words and I live in Tumwater. Perhaps you and your GF and I could meet for coffee someday. Rockon, Sir!