It is Monday, 3pm and I am sitting on the side of my hospital bed. Just moments ago, the nurse finished my last dose of IV antibiotics and removed the IV line from my left forearm. This is the first time in 4 weeks that I have not had some sort of artificial "extra hole" in my body for either putting things in or draining stuff out. It feels good being "whole" for a change.
In about an hour I will be discharged and Sara will be taking me home. For the first time in 4 weeks, I will no longer be on round the clock IV antibiotics. I will be taking oral antibiotics for at least the next ten days, but that should be a piece of cake in comparison to the various IV's and PICC line systems I have been dealing with for weeks. In fact, I will only need to take the oral antibiotic twice a day (on the 9s). Imagine, actually sleeping through the night for the first time in nearly a month!
I have taken to growing the hair on my face, mostly out of laziness and the inconvenience of trying to shave in the hospital. The sad part is that at the age of 55, I probably look more like I have a 2 day growth rather than a 6 day growth starting from last Wednesday. But since the doctors have warned me to take it very easy for a while, I figured I would give it a good college try and see what I can come up with the next week or two.
I am hoping that the serious parts of this extended health blog are at an end at this point. I believe at this point, my body is going to be the best proponent of my healing process. This has been a wild and scary ride; I learned a lot about my body and myself. I also learned a lot about the health care system and some of it's stronger and weaker points. These things I will discuss in what I hope will be my next/last blog post on this subject.
But for now, I am feeling relief and slightly energized. I am relieved that I will be leaving the hospital in about 45 minutes. I am relieved that I will no longer be tethered to various bags, pumps and tubes. I am relieved that my movement is no longer stymied by those bags, pumps, and tubes. If I could do a cartwheel (something that I tried to learn repeatedly in my youth), I would do one now. But mostly, I am relieved and energized to be going home to my wife and son. It is my love for them that defines me and being away has been nearly more than I can bear.
I am probably at about 75-80% at this moment, so your continued thoughts, prayers and wishes are still welcome. As I mentioned above, I may post one or two more blogs on this experience in the coming days. It is my wish that it be just one more blog that ties up the lose ends and reports continued growing good health.
I do want to say this. I was thinking recently about how folks say you should appreciate your good health. I'm not sure anyone can actually appreciate their good health until it is gone. How can you appreciate what it means to be able to see until you have lost your sight? How can you really appreciate what it means to be able to walk until you have lost that ability?
However, I may have a way that anyone can show their appreciation for their good health. If you hug a family member, go take a walk, laugh with your friends, wrestle with your dog, kiss your significant other; in these ways you show your appreciation for your good health. And when you do those things, you might occasionally think 'I can do this because I am healthy', then you are actually appreciating your health.
So here is to your good health!
Monday, November 12, 2012
Sunday, November 11, 2012
Reasonable Health (part 10)
Is is now Sunday night and I was admitted into the Hospital last Thursday a little before midnight. When I came in, my temps were pushing 101 and Friday morning in the hospital, the temps hit 101.5. Normally, these kinds of temps would not be of any concern, but Doc B thought that there might be a secondary infection brewing, or maybe the abscess was starting to grow again (neither would be particularly good).
So when I first arrived, the nurses took blood cultures from my PICC line and from the opposite arm. And then they took more blood from the forearm of the arm with the PICC line. All of this was immediately set out to culture. The reason they took blood from the PICC line was that they also wanted to see if the PICC line had anything growing. At that point, they added Vancomycin (yet another very powerful broad spectrum antibiotic) to my treatment.
The next morning, more blood work from all the same places. They explained to me that cultures take 48 to 72 hours to grow. They also explained that even though I had all that blood taken the previous evening, my hospital doctor wanted to have the blood taken again to make sure nothing was missed. In addition, Doc B ordered the PICC line removed. The end of the PICC line (the part that was in my heart) was cut off and sent in for testing for infection. Now it was a waiting game to see what all the cultures might grow.
During the next few days, my fever reduced pretty radically. By Sunday, my fever was very low grade and stayed mostly between 98 and 99.5 (sound familiar?). I was feeling much better and one of my doctors (Doc A) suggested that I might be going home tomorrow. She shared that all culture growth was NEGATIVE (very good). In addition, my white cell count was completely normal (also good) and my liver function was normal. The doctor also suggested that they may skip putting in another PICC line and may send me home with just oral antibiotics (halleluia!).
So here I sit, waiting for tomorrow.
As a side note, I have mentioned very little about my roommates. My current roommate is a gentleman in his late 80's that was admitted to our room just about one hour before me on Thursday evening. He is a very nice fellow with a spunky, upbeat wife and fine family. I will not talk about his condition since it is none of anyone's business, but I will share this one bit of information. Tonight (Sunday night), he is prepping for a colonoscopy in the morning. These are small rooms and he cannot make it to the bathroom, so he has to use a little portapotty next to his bed. Those of you who have had a colonoscopy know what kind of evening he (and I) are in for.
I wanted to share this little tidbit just to give you a smile and let you know that very little that happens in the hospital, happens in a vacuum, so to speak. Without question, I have been taking more walks this evening in the hospital than I have in all the other days combined that I have been here.
It is now 11:30pm and it looks like he may have a few more visits before he, and I, get any sleep. Smile tonight when you try to imagine sleeping through that.
So when I first arrived, the nurses took blood cultures from my PICC line and from the opposite arm. And then they took more blood from the forearm of the arm with the PICC line. All of this was immediately set out to culture. The reason they took blood from the PICC line was that they also wanted to see if the PICC line had anything growing. At that point, they added Vancomycin (yet another very powerful broad spectrum antibiotic) to my treatment.
The next morning, more blood work from all the same places. They explained to me that cultures take 48 to 72 hours to grow. They also explained that even though I had all that blood taken the previous evening, my hospital doctor wanted to have the blood taken again to make sure nothing was missed. In addition, Doc B ordered the PICC line removed. The end of the PICC line (the part that was in my heart) was cut off and sent in for testing for infection. Now it was a waiting game to see what all the cultures might grow.
During the next few days, my fever reduced pretty radically. By Sunday, my fever was very low grade and stayed mostly between 98 and 99.5 (sound familiar?). I was feeling much better and one of my doctors (Doc A) suggested that I might be going home tomorrow. She shared that all culture growth was NEGATIVE (very good). In addition, my white cell count was completely normal (also good) and my liver function was normal. The doctor also suggested that they may skip putting in another PICC line and may send me home with just oral antibiotics (halleluia!).
So here I sit, waiting for tomorrow.
As a side note, I have mentioned very little about my roommates. My current roommate is a gentleman in his late 80's that was admitted to our room just about one hour before me on Thursday evening. He is a very nice fellow with a spunky, upbeat wife and fine family. I will not talk about his condition since it is none of anyone's business, but I will share this one bit of information. Tonight (Sunday night), he is prepping for a colonoscopy in the morning. These are small rooms and he cannot make it to the bathroom, so he has to use a little portapotty next to his bed. Those of you who have had a colonoscopy know what kind of evening he (and I) are in for.
I wanted to share this little tidbit just to give you a smile and let you know that very little that happens in the hospital, happens in a vacuum, so to speak. Without question, I have been taking more walks this evening in the hospital than I have in all the other days combined that I have been here.
It is now 11:30pm and it looks like he may have a few more visits before he, and I, get any sleep. Smile tonight when you try to imagine sleeping through that.
Friday, November 9, 2012
Reasonable Health (part 9)
It was early in the evening on Monday when the doctor pulled the tube out of my back. It was now about 10 days since I was discharged from the hospital. The tube draining my liver abscess was gone and the extreme muscle spasms caused by the tube were fading quickly. I was still on "round the clock" IV antibiotics, but that seemed simple compared to the muscle spasms and the drain bag I had been carrying around for the past few weeks.
Tuesday came, and the muscle spasms were completely gone. Unfortunately, I had some pulled muscles in my ribcage from the previous muscle spasms that were still quite sore, but nothing that was like the spasms themselves.
About midday on Tuesday, I started to run a fever. To be fair, I had been running a slight fever for weeks with my temps staying in the 96.6 to 99.6 range. But this was different, these temps started to spike above 100 and were not coming down very easily. In addition, I was really feeling this fever, I was weak, dizzy and body achy. I thought at first that the fever spike might be from the pulling of the drain tube and any "liquid" that might have spilled into my body. But after a couple of days of this new fever spike, I started to become concerned.
On Thursday, Sara contacted my doctor (Doc B) to see what we should do, and she told us to go directly to the hospital. This was two weeks to the day after I had been discharged. Just when things seemed to be going so well...
Tuesday came, and the muscle spasms were completely gone. Unfortunately, I had some pulled muscles in my ribcage from the previous muscle spasms that were still quite sore, but nothing that was like the spasms themselves.
About midday on Tuesday, I started to run a fever. To be fair, I had been running a slight fever for weeks with my temps staying in the 96.6 to 99.6 range. But this was different, these temps started to spike above 100 and were not coming down very easily. In addition, I was really feeling this fever, I was weak, dizzy and body achy. I thought at first that the fever spike might be from the pulling of the drain tube and any "liquid" that might have spilled into my body. But after a couple of days of this new fever spike, I started to become concerned.
On Thursday, Sara contacted my doctor (Doc B) to see what we should do, and she told us to go directly to the hospital. This was two weeks to the day after I had been discharged. Just when things seemed to be going so well...
Wednesday, November 7, 2012
Reasonable Health (part 8)
The afternoon I was released from the hospital, my doctors told me that I would need to return to the hospital in exactly one week (left on Thursday, need to return on Thursday) for another CAT scan to assess how the treatment was doing in regards to shrinking the abscess. The doctors were very clear that I needed to return in exactly one week (next Thursday), and then they sent me on my way.
As you read in my previous post, that week was anything but restful. The constant pain/ muscle spasms from the drain tube in my liver kept me exhausted. The IV antibiotics that I was being fed was not only very strong, but a very large dose. So large/strong, in fact, that every nurse that was charged with setting up my IV antibiotic in the hospital would stop just before starting the drip and and with a concerned look would ask, "What is wrong with you?!?". I would tell them a liver abscess, and they would respond, "Ohhhhh...". So, in addition to the muscle spasms from the drain, the IV antibiotics would make me nauseous and down right crappy. But the promise that the CAT scan on Thursday might bring the removal of the drain tube was a dim but welcome light at the and of the tunnel.
Thursday came. My Personal Choice health insurance ran out and my Keystone HMO kicked in on that day, Thursday November 1st. I stopped eating 3 hours before the CAT scan and drank my radioactive liquid 2 hours and 1 hour before the procedure exactly as directed. After the second dose of radioactive liquid, Sara and I set off to the hospital.
We went directly to Radiology to register for the CAT scan. Upon handing the doctor prescription for the CAT scan to the nurse, we hit the first snag.
"You are here the wrong day", stated the nurse plainly.
My surprised reaction, "What? We were told to come here today to have this procedure done"
The nurse replied, "Take a look at the prescription"
Sure enough, the date on the prescription showed Thursday November 1st as the date of the procedure, but the "1" was scribbled over with a darker "5". Yikes, I just drank a quart of radioactive fluid for nothing!
"I just drank the fluid, can you fit me in?" I asked.
The nurse replied, "Let me see what we can do."
I sat in the waiting room as the nurse called the scheduling supervisor. Then they found another problem.
"Mr, Duffey?"
"Yes?"
"What is your current health insurance?"
"Keystone HMO"
"This could be a problem"
After waiting another 2 hours, the supervisor came to talk to me and explained that having this CAT scan in this hospital would not be allowed by Keystone HMO, even though my entire illness was being dealt with at that hospital. The problem is that my primary doctor was not associated with Chester County hospital. This meant that I was going to have to go to another hospital to have the CAT scan done. In addition, the doctor who put the drain in my liver was not going to be able to remove the drain since he was not associated with the other hospital. YIKES!!!
They sent me home without doing the CAT scan. Their hands were tied. Sara and I discussed the financial advantages of staying with the HMO against the health advantages of returning to the Personal choice. We decided to immediately drop the HMO plan and go back to the Personal choice plan. Our agent and the regional supervisor were very helpful and did the paper work immediately. Within 24 hours, we were back on our old plan and could finish getting well with the doctors who had been working with me all along.
I returned on Monday to the hospital, 2 doses of radioactive liquid in my belly, and had the CAT scan. Doc C looked at the pictures and said that the abscess had reduced in size significantly.
I asked, "Is it half the original size?"
He replied, "Closer to a tenth"
Relieved, I said, "Will you be able to remove the drain?"
He smiled, "Definitely, we will remove it now"
I was sitting in an exam room next to Radiology. He told me to lean forward as I sat on the exam table.
"You are going to feel a little pressure"
Sheepishly, I asked, "Will it hurt"
"No."
True to his word, I felt a little pressure and then the tube was out. This was a huge step forward in my recovery.
As you read in my previous post, that week was anything but restful. The constant pain/ muscle spasms from the drain tube in my liver kept me exhausted. The IV antibiotics that I was being fed was not only very strong, but a very large dose. So large/strong, in fact, that every nurse that was charged with setting up my IV antibiotic in the hospital would stop just before starting the drip and and with a concerned look would ask, "What is wrong with you?!?". I would tell them a liver abscess, and they would respond, "Ohhhhh...". So, in addition to the muscle spasms from the drain, the IV antibiotics would make me nauseous and down right crappy. But the promise that the CAT scan on Thursday might bring the removal of the drain tube was a dim but welcome light at the and of the tunnel.
Thursday came. My Personal Choice health insurance ran out and my Keystone HMO kicked in on that day, Thursday November 1st. I stopped eating 3 hours before the CAT scan and drank my radioactive liquid 2 hours and 1 hour before the procedure exactly as directed. After the second dose of radioactive liquid, Sara and I set off to the hospital.
We went directly to Radiology to register for the CAT scan. Upon handing the doctor prescription for the CAT scan to the nurse, we hit the first snag.
"You are here the wrong day", stated the nurse plainly.
My surprised reaction, "What? We were told to come here today to have this procedure done"
The nurse replied, "Take a look at the prescription"
Sure enough, the date on the prescription showed Thursday November 1st as the date of the procedure, but the "1" was scribbled over with a darker "5". Yikes, I just drank a quart of radioactive fluid for nothing!
"I just drank the fluid, can you fit me in?" I asked.
The nurse replied, "Let me see what we can do."
I sat in the waiting room as the nurse called the scheduling supervisor. Then they found another problem.
"Mr, Duffey?"
"Yes?"
"What is your current health insurance?"
"Keystone HMO"
"This could be a problem"
After waiting another 2 hours, the supervisor came to talk to me and explained that having this CAT scan in this hospital would not be allowed by Keystone HMO, even though my entire illness was being dealt with at that hospital. The problem is that my primary doctor was not associated with Chester County hospital. This meant that I was going to have to go to another hospital to have the CAT scan done. In addition, the doctor who put the drain in my liver was not going to be able to remove the drain since he was not associated with the other hospital. YIKES!!!
They sent me home without doing the CAT scan. Their hands were tied. Sara and I discussed the financial advantages of staying with the HMO against the health advantages of returning to the Personal choice. We decided to immediately drop the HMO plan and go back to the Personal choice plan. Our agent and the regional supervisor were very helpful and did the paper work immediately. Within 24 hours, we were back on our old plan and could finish getting well with the doctors who had been working with me all along.
I returned on Monday to the hospital, 2 doses of radioactive liquid in my belly, and had the CAT scan. Doc C looked at the pictures and said that the abscess had reduced in size significantly.
I asked, "Is it half the original size?"
He replied, "Closer to a tenth"
Relieved, I said, "Will you be able to remove the drain?"
He smiled, "Definitely, we will remove it now"
I was sitting in an exam room next to Radiology. He told me to lean forward as I sat on the exam table.
"You are going to feel a little pressure"
Sheepishly, I asked, "Will it hurt"
"No."
True to his word, I felt a little pressure and then the tube was out. This was a huge step forward in my recovery.
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
Reasonable Health (part 7)
Some interesting things happened after being released from the hospital. However in an effort to keep the mundane separate for the more interesting, I will quickly review the mundane first.
My life at home centered around the tubes that ran into and out of my body. To maintain these tubes, an infusion nurse was sent (within an hour of leaving the hospital) to teach me how to do my own IV infusion. She was a very competent and friendly woman who made me feel comfortable with the following routine:
How intense? Without a bit of exaggeration, I would like you to imagine someone with a 10" ice pick with a 240 volt power line attached to that ice pick. Out of the blue, they deeply stab you with that ice pick. You get the stabbing feeling with the severe electric shock at the same time. I can tell you right now that when this happens, it is very difficult to experience the wind being completely knocked from your body without adding an expletive to the last bit of air forced from your lungs. From there, it would often take hours for me to be able to loosen up my breathing muscles enough to get a half of a breath. And trying to get a larger breath, trying to loosen up by stretching, trying to sit comfortably, trying to do practically anything but stand still would invite the fellow with the electric ice pick to do his level best to knock any air that you possess in your lungs completely from your body again. At night, I would take some Motrin to help dull the pain, but it really did not help much.
Everyday, a wonderful nurse would travel to my house to flush saline into my liver and to empty the bag that was collecting fluids. Amazingly, the act of flushing saline into the liver did not cause pain. It did feel sort of creepy, like someone was gently moving around one of your organs.
So this was the mundane, daily routine of my existence at home. But things were about to get much more interesting. Before I had gotten sick, Sara and I decided to change for a Personal Choice health plan to a Keystone HMO plan to help save money for Jame's college. The change over date for the health plans was November 1st, the day I was to go back to the hospital to get a CAT scan of the abscess and see how it was progressing. As you might imagine, the change between health plans was anything but smooth.
My life at home centered around the tubes that ran into and out of my body. To maintain these tubes, an infusion nurse was sent (within an hour of leaving the hospital) to teach me how to do my own IV infusion. She was a very competent and friendly woman who made me feel comfortable with the following routine:
- Wash hands.
- Dry hands with clean paper towel.
- Open alcohol wipe.
- Clean port going into my arm with wipe.
- Open Saline Syringe and squeeze out any air pockets.
- Attach saline syringe to port.
- Open IV locks.
- Slowly pump syringe till all saline flushed into IV port.
- Open Antibiotic Eclipse ball.
- Remove saline syringe and attach Eclipse ball to IV port (do not allow any tips to touch anything)
- Open Eclipse ball and allow to run till empty (approximately 1 hour)
- When empty, detach Eclipse ball from line and attach fresh saline syringe.
- Slowly pump syringe till all saline flushed into IV port.
- Open Heparin syringe and remove saline syringe.
- Attach Heparin syringe and pump into IV line.
- Close IV locks.
- Remove Heparin syringe and wait about 5 hours to do this all over again.
How intense? Without a bit of exaggeration, I would like you to imagine someone with a 10" ice pick with a 240 volt power line attached to that ice pick. Out of the blue, they deeply stab you with that ice pick. You get the stabbing feeling with the severe electric shock at the same time. I can tell you right now that when this happens, it is very difficult to experience the wind being completely knocked from your body without adding an expletive to the last bit of air forced from your lungs. From there, it would often take hours for me to be able to loosen up my breathing muscles enough to get a half of a breath. And trying to get a larger breath, trying to loosen up by stretching, trying to sit comfortably, trying to do practically anything but stand still would invite the fellow with the electric ice pick to do his level best to knock any air that you possess in your lungs completely from your body again. At night, I would take some Motrin to help dull the pain, but it really did not help much.
Everyday, a wonderful nurse would travel to my house to flush saline into my liver and to empty the bag that was collecting fluids. Amazingly, the act of flushing saline into the liver did not cause pain. It did feel sort of creepy, like someone was gently moving around one of your organs.
So this was the mundane, daily routine of my existence at home. But things were about to get much more interesting. Before I had gotten sick, Sara and I decided to change for a Personal Choice health plan to a Keystone HMO plan to help save money for Jame's college. The change over date for the health plans was November 1st, the day I was to go back to the hospital to get a CAT scan of the abscess and see how it was progressing. As you might imagine, the change between health plans was anything but smooth.
Tuesday, October 30, 2012
Reasonable Health (part 6)
During the next few days, I received IV antibiotics every 6 hours (12am/6am/12pm/6pm) and the tube that runs out of my liver/back was regularly flushed and drained. Each day, my fever subsided till it remained between 97 and 99 degrees. After a few days, the doctors decided to do another CT scan to look at the abscess. It turned out that it had only shrunk a couple of centimeters (from 6cm to 4cm). I think I was hoping that the abscess was shrinking much faster. Then Doc D came in to speak with me about the progress. He was a gastrointestinal specialist (they deal with the liver) and he stated plainly that I was right on track in my progress. He said that this was a large abscess and it could take months to completely clear up and that I just needed to be patient and allow my body to do it's thing.
Doc D also stated that these abscesses are relatively rare, but that they are very curable and I was right on schedule. That made me feel much better.
After Doc D spoke with Doc A and Doc B, they all decided that I was actually doing quite well and that I could go home soon. Doc A came to see me and mentioned that I might be going home, as soon as today (Thursday). After she left, Doc B came in to see me again and this time was much more cordial. She spoke to me while looking at me (which made me feel better) and she was kind in her tone. She said that I could go home but that she needed to speak with the other doctors first. After some confusion as to whether I was going home on Thursday or possibly the next day, the decision and paperwork was together for me to go home on Thursday.
I was happy and a little scared. I knew that I was going to have to take over doing the IV antibiotics at home around the clock on the 12s and 6s. I also knew that I was going to be sent home with a drain bag hanging off of my back. Fortunately I was visited within a few hours of heading home by visiting nurses that helped me learn how and what to do when (with the IV antibiotics). It is an interesting process and not one that you would want to have to do at 5:30am. However, I was home and that was a huge victory in itself. Be it ever so humble indeed.
Doc D also stated that these abscesses are relatively rare, but that they are very curable and I was right on schedule. That made me feel much better.
After Doc D spoke with Doc A and Doc B, they all decided that I was actually doing quite well and that I could go home soon. Doc A came to see me and mentioned that I might be going home, as soon as today (Thursday). After she left, Doc B came in to see me again and this time was much more cordial. She spoke to me while looking at me (which made me feel better) and she was kind in her tone. She said that I could go home but that she needed to speak with the other doctors first. After some confusion as to whether I was going home on Thursday or possibly the next day, the decision and paperwork was together for me to go home on Thursday.
I was happy and a little scared. I knew that I was going to have to take over doing the IV antibiotics at home around the clock on the 12s and 6s. I also knew that I was going to be sent home with a drain bag hanging off of my back. Fortunately I was visited within a few hours of heading home by visiting nurses that helped me learn how and what to do when (with the IV antibiotics). It is an interesting process and not one that you would want to have to do at 5:30am. However, I was home and that was a huge victory in itself. Be it ever so humble indeed.
Reasonable Health (part 5)
I think I would be remiss if I skipped over this important moment in my illness/recovery. Later in the evening when the abscess was drained, I was lying in my hospital room, alone. As I mentioned in my last post, just the initial draining made a huge difference in how I felt. Up until this point, I had 7 straight days of unrelenting, uncontrolled high fever along with pretty severe body aches, chills, sweats, dizziness, weakness and a general feeling of crap. After the draining, I could feel a significant lifting of those symptoms.
So that night in my room, lying in the dark alone, I said a prayer. As a rule, I try not to pray for things but instead I tend to say thankful prayers for those things I already possess. But this prayer was a little different. I thanked God for the grace that was given me on so many levels. I thanked God for a supportive wife and prayed for her to receive continued strength to be able to deal with my illness. I thanked God for the wonderful doctors and their knowledge that was able to help me through this trying time. I thanked God for all the nursing support and the support of all the medical faculty. I thanked God for the love my family shows me every single day. And I thanked God for watching over me.
This may sound like a simple prayer of thanks, but it had a different twist in that I thanked God for all the folks around me, those who saved my life and for Gods grace for a longer life.
Those folks who know me probably do not realize that I speak with God regularly; I tend to find such talk extremely personal. However, this moment on that night was an important one for me. It was a turning point in my recovery. Not so much because of that prayer, but because of the gift of knowledge possessed by the doctors/nurses and the love of my wife, family and friends. And that is why I felt that I needed to pray for those folks.
The next morning, Doc B (still slightly aloof), came into my room and asked how I was feeling. I immediately thanked her for her expertise and for finding the cause of my ailment. She did not acknowledge the thanks at all, but instead said,
"Where is your wife?"
I responded, "At home I think."
She then plainly stated, "She is very bright."
Confused, I said, "Thank you."
Then she said wryly, "She made you stay here when you wanted to leave..."
Still confused, "I don't remember wanting to..."
"Yes, you wanted to leave and she made you stay. She is very smart."
And with that, Doc B left the room.
Feeling slightly slapped down but with a smile on my face, I recognized the extremely dry humor. Thank you Doc B, you have no idea how thankful I am for your help.
So that night in my room, lying in the dark alone, I said a prayer. As a rule, I try not to pray for things but instead I tend to say thankful prayers for those things I already possess. But this prayer was a little different. I thanked God for the grace that was given me on so many levels. I thanked God for a supportive wife and prayed for her to receive continued strength to be able to deal with my illness. I thanked God for the wonderful doctors and their knowledge that was able to help me through this trying time. I thanked God for all the nursing support and the support of all the medical faculty. I thanked God for the love my family shows me every single day. And I thanked God for watching over me.
This may sound like a simple prayer of thanks, but it had a different twist in that I thanked God for all the folks around me, those who saved my life and for Gods grace for a longer life.
Those folks who know me probably do not realize that I speak with God regularly; I tend to find such talk extremely personal. However, this moment on that night was an important one for me. It was a turning point in my recovery. Not so much because of that prayer, but because of the gift of knowledge possessed by the doctors/nurses and the love of my wife, family and friends. And that is why I felt that I needed to pray for those folks.
The next morning, Doc B (still slightly aloof), came into my room and asked how I was feeling. I immediately thanked her for her expertise and for finding the cause of my ailment. She did not acknowledge the thanks at all, but instead said,
"Where is your wife?"
I responded, "At home I think."
She then plainly stated, "She is very bright."
Confused, I said, "Thank you."
Then she said wryly, "She made you stay here when you wanted to leave..."
Still confused, "I don't remember wanting to..."
"Yes, you wanted to leave and she made you stay. She is very smart."
And with that, Doc B left the room.
Feeling slightly slapped down but with a smile on my face, I recognized the extremely dry humor. Thank you Doc B, you have no idea how thankful I am for your help.
Reasonable Health (part 4)
After being wheeled into radiology, I met with the doctor who was going to drain the abscess and leave a drain there so that it could continue to drain aver the coming weeks. Doc C was a serious yet comforting fellow. He explained that I would be given "twilight" anesthesia (the kind you are give with a colonoscopy). Having gone through this procedure a few times in the past, I assumed that I would be essentially asleep.
I was wheeled into the CT scan room and asked to climb up onto the CT machine gurney face down with my head toward the machine. I was then asked to place my hands over my head, sort of like I was diving through the machine. I was then hooked up to heart monitors and given a local anesthesia for the area he was about to drain from. After that, I was given the "twilight" anesthesia in my IV line.
A few moments later, I noticed that, although relaxed, I was still wide awake.
They asked, "How are you feeling?".
I responded, "Wide awake, just reading the printing on the boxes stacked against the wall in front of me".
Doc C said, "Let me know if you feel any pain."
Amazingly, I did not. I did feel some pushing and pressure in the area of my liver, sort of like someone was holding my liver in their hand and moving is about some. But there really was not any pain. As I laid there face down, I could hear the doctors comment that they were removing a good bit of abscess fluid. And in very short order, they were done removing the fluid. In the same place that they used a large syringe to remove fluid, they places a plastic tube as a drain to allow the abscess to continue to drain. The drain comes out of my back and connects to a longer tube that runs to a drain pouch that I hand down on my leg on my right side.
I can say that once they drained the area inside my liver, I felt immediately stronger and my fever went down dramatically. It was really uncanny the difference. In fact, when I called to Sara who was in the waiting area just outside the CT scan room, I could hear my voice sounded much stronger and clearer.
Once the local anesthesia wore off, the pain really began. I found that there really is not a comfortable position, except slumped forward in a chair, that can accommodate a drain tube in your back. Laying on your back causes spasms that make it near impossible to breathe. Lying on your side is comfortable for very short periods of time until your back seizes up and again the spasms start. Lying on your stomach works best but again is only good for about half and how before the spasms begin and you need to get up and stretch in a chair.
I realize that this must sound like kvetching. After all, my life was saved by this procedure. And to a certain extent, I am kvetching. But I am trying to be honest about both the positive and negatives of this experience and I would not be true to the experience without relaying the overwhelming pain and spasms that are part of this recovery. It is the one thing that I cannot get away from and it interrupts my sleeping, breathing, eating, laughing, burping, coughing and my ability to move. Imagine that you are just breathing in and someone punches you hard in the gut knocking the breath from you; that is very close to the experience I feel. And these spasms seemingly come and go on their own (but are generally worst after having laid down to rest for some length of time).
The first day after having the drain in, a good bit of "fluid" fulled the drain pouch. It was sort of the consistency and color of V8 juice with a goodly amount of Worcestershire sauce added, the color of a Bloody Mary. The nurse came in, drained the pouch, measured the fluid and flushed saline into the line that ran to my liver to keep the line clear. As the days went on, the liquid became more and more clear and a lighter color, more like strawberry Juicy Juice. In addition, my fever went from around 100 degrees down to normal in the next two days. From here, it was just a matter of time till the doctors would do another CT scan of the area to determine whether the abscess had shrunk.
I was wheeled into the CT scan room and asked to climb up onto the CT machine gurney face down with my head toward the machine. I was then asked to place my hands over my head, sort of like I was diving through the machine. I was then hooked up to heart monitors and given a local anesthesia for the area he was about to drain from. After that, I was given the "twilight" anesthesia in my IV line.
A few moments later, I noticed that, although relaxed, I was still wide awake.
They asked, "How are you feeling?".
I responded, "Wide awake, just reading the printing on the boxes stacked against the wall in front of me".
Doc C said, "Let me know if you feel any pain."
Amazingly, I did not. I did feel some pushing and pressure in the area of my liver, sort of like someone was holding my liver in their hand and moving is about some. But there really was not any pain. As I laid there face down, I could hear the doctors comment that they were removing a good bit of abscess fluid. And in very short order, they were done removing the fluid. In the same place that they used a large syringe to remove fluid, they places a plastic tube as a drain to allow the abscess to continue to drain. The drain comes out of my back and connects to a longer tube that runs to a drain pouch that I hand down on my leg on my right side.
I can say that once they drained the area inside my liver, I felt immediately stronger and my fever went down dramatically. It was really uncanny the difference. In fact, when I called to Sara who was in the waiting area just outside the CT scan room, I could hear my voice sounded much stronger and clearer.
Once the local anesthesia wore off, the pain really began. I found that there really is not a comfortable position, except slumped forward in a chair, that can accommodate a drain tube in your back. Laying on your back causes spasms that make it near impossible to breathe. Lying on your side is comfortable for very short periods of time until your back seizes up and again the spasms start. Lying on your stomach works best but again is only good for about half and how before the spasms begin and you need to get up and stretch in a chair.
I realize that this must sound like kvetching. After all, my life was saved by this procedure. And to a certain extent, I am kvetching. But I am trying to be honest about both the positive and negatives of this experience and I would not be true to the experience without relaying the overwhelming pain and spasms that are part of this recovery. It is the one thing that I cannot get away from and it interrupts my sleeping, breathing, eating, laughing, burping, coughing and my ability to move. Imagine that you are just breathing in and someone punches you hard in the gut knocking the breath from you; that is very close to the experience I feel. And these spasms seemingly come and go on their own (but are generally worst after having laid down to rest for some length of time).
The first day after having the drain in, a good bit of "fluid" fulled the drain pouch. It was sort of the consistency and color of V8 juice with a goodly amount of Worcestershire sauce added, the color of a Bloody Mary. The nurse came in, drained the pouch, measured the fluid and flushed saline into the line that ran to my liver to keep the line clear. As the days went on, the liquid became more and more clear and a lighter color, more like strawberry Juicy Juice. In addition, my fever went from around 100 degrees down to normal in the next two days. From here, it was just a matter of time till the doctors would do another CT scan of the area to determine whether the abscess had shrunk.
Monday, October 29, 2012
Reasonable Health (part 3)
Friday was an interesting day. I was on IV fluids, so my fever steadied a bit, but the doctors were still not sure what was going on. I was still feeling a bit fragile from a solid week of high fever and the traumatic rigors I had experienced the night before.
In fairness to the wonderful doctors that treated me, I am going to label the doctors with letters so that they will remain anonymous.
I believe the first doctor I saw was a "hospitalist". These doctors specialize in getting you the right doctors for your particular problems. In addition Doc A was obviously very knowledgeable and quite upbeat; something desperately needed after a week of high fever. Doc A told me that she would be sending an infectious disease specialist over to see me (Doc B). Doc B stopped by later and was pretty clear that she did not believe I had a virus, but instead I must have some sort of biological infection like an abscess somewhere in my lung/abdomen area. Doc B is a brilliant doctor who came across kind of aloof and disconnected. I noticed that she did not look at me while she spoke to me but instead stood speaking past me, looking at the wall. She mentioned that she would be taking me off ibuprofen to see how bad my illness would get. I told her about the rigors I had experienced the night before and asked if she could do anything for that if it happened again. She responded that she was not concerned with the rigors, and I responded that I was and was not comfortable with any place that would allow that to happen again. Sara said, "we are not going anywhere." and with that Doc B walked out of the room.
A short while later, the nurse told me that Doc B ordered a CT scan (Cat Scan) to check out my abdomen and that I was not going to be allowed to eat anything. A while later, the nurse came in with the first dose of the radioactive apple juice. An hour later came the second dose and an hour after that I was taken down to get the CT scan.
About two hours after the CT scan, Doc A came to my door looking very happy.
She exclaimed, "We found the problem, you have a 6cm abscess in the center of your liver!".
Sara and I were a bit confused with her smile since it did not sound like great news to us.
I said, "What does that mean?".
Doc A responded, "We can drain the abscess and put you on antibiotics to shrink it."
My response was, "When do we 'drain' the abscess?"
The doctor stepped to the side of the doorway and I could see a gurney there with a nurse ready to take me to have the procedure done.
I said, "Do I have time to pee?"
Doc A said, "Sure"
So I did and then we were off to radiology to have the abscess drained while the doctors looked at my insides using the CT scan machine.
In fairness to the wonderful doctors that treated me, I am going to label the doctors with letters so that they will remain anonymous.
I believe the first doctor I saw was a "hospitalist". These doctors specialize in getting you the right doctors for your particular problems. In addition Doc A was obviously very knowledgeable and quite upbeat; something desperately needed after a week of high fever. Doc A told me that she would be sending an infectious disease specialist over to see me (Doc B). Doc B stopped by later and was pretty clear that she did not believe I had a virus, but instead I must have some sort of biological infection like an abscess somewhere in my lung/abdomen area. Doc B is a brilliant doctor who came across kind of aloof and disconnected. I noticed that she did not look at me while she spoke to me but instead stood speaking past me, looking at the wall. She mentioned that she would be taking me off ibuprofen to see how bad my illness would get. I told her about the rigors I had experienced the night before and asked if she could do anything for that if it happened again. She responded that she was not concerned with the rigors, and I responded that I was and was not comfortable with any place that would allow that to happen again. Sara said, "we are not going anywhere." and with that Doc B walked out of the room.
A short while later, the nurse told me that Doc B ordered a CT scan (Cat Scan) to check out my abdomen and that I was not going to be allowed to eat anything. A while later, the nurse came in with the first dose of the radioactive apple juice. An hour later came the second dose and an hour after that I was taken down to get the CT scan.
About two hours after the CT scan, Doc A came to my door looking very happy.
She exclaimed, "We found the problem, you have a 6cm abscess in the center of your liver!".
Sara and I were a bit confused with her smile since it did not sound like great news to us.
I said, "What does that mean?".
Doc A responded, "We can drain the abscess and put you on antibiotics to shrink it."
My response was, "When do we 'drain' the abscess?"
The doctor stepped to the side of the doorway and I could see a gurney there with a nurse ready to take me to have the procedure done.
I said, "Do I have time to pee?"
Doc A said, "Sure"
So I did and then we were off to radiology to have the abscess drained while the doctors looked at my insides using the CT scan machine.
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
Reasonable Health (part 2)
After receiving the go ahead to go to the hospital from my doctor on Thursday afternoon, Sara drove me over to Chester County Hospital at about dinner time. At this point I was so weak that I really could not stand or even sit upright for very long without becoming extremely dizzy and weak. When we got to the emergency area of the hospital, they brought a wheelchair right up to the car since I did not really have the strength to walk very far.
I am not sure if it was my condition or the fact that they were not very busy, but they took me in for triage immediately. After getting a quick look at my condition, they took me back to the emergency area and started to work on me.
What happened during the next few hours is a bit of a blur to me now. I do remember that they took me to get chest xrays to check for pneumonia. They also hooked me up immediately with an IV drip because I was dehydrated from excessive sweating. I also remember that I was wearing a heart monitor. Other than that, those hours were dotted with various doctors coming to assess what was wrong with me and visits from nurses. After a few hours of receiving liquid via the IV drip, my fever seemed to lower a bit and level off.
It was now close to midnight and the attending doctor made the decision that I was more stable and could go home. I was elated. At that point, the doctors thought that I had a non-specific virus that had gotten a bit out of control and that bed rest with lots of fluids would be the answer. They removed the IV from my left arm and had Sara sign the release waver. I began to put on my street clothes when it happened.
In a matter of moments, rigors set in. For those of you not familiar with the term, rigors refers to the shaky chills one feels when your body sets a new set point for body temperature in the hypothalamus. The feeling is very similar to when you are exposed to extreme cold and cannot get warm. Your body shivers and shakes in an attempt to generate enough heat to keep you warm. But this was much more dramatic. I began shaking in my legs and alternately in my upper body and arms. I immediately asked for blankets from the nurses, but they were unwilling as they exclaimed that covering me would only cause my fever to rise too much. Sara grabbed both my jacket and her jacket to give me some warmth, but it was a little too little too late. By this time I was shaking uncontrollably. In fact the shaking was to terrific that I could no longer breathe easily or steadily. The best I could muster was occasional gasps. The nurse asked if I wanted a Motrin, but I could not respond as I could not get enough air into my lungs to form even a simple yes or no. Sara noted that it was at this point my lips were blue from lack of oxygen.
In addition to the inability to breathe, I could feel muscles all over my body getting pulled too tight. My ribcage muscles ached from over tension, as did my thigh muscles, arm muscled, back muscles and neck muscles. About 15 minutes into this minor drama terror, the doctor showed up and obviously did not like what he saw. He immediately rescinded the release waver and a new IV was installed in the bend of my right arm as the rigors slowly subsided. The whole episode lasted about 20 minutes, but the fear of the event and the pain from pulled muscled lasted for the next few days.
In the next hour and a half, the hospital found me a room and I was taken there. It was now around 1:30 in the morning on Friday morning and I sent Sara home. It had been a full night for both Sara and I.
I am not sure if it was my condition or the fact that they were not very busy, but they took me in for triage immediately. After getting a quick look at my condition, they took me back to the emergency area and started to work on me.
What happened during the next few hours is a bit of a blur to me now. I do remember that they took me to get chest xrays to check for pneumonia. They also hooked me up immediately with an IV drip because I was dehydrated from excessive sweating. I also remember that I was wearing a heart monitor. Other than that, those hours were dotted with various doctors coming to assess what was wrong with me and visits from nurses. After a few hours of receiving liquid via the IV drip, my fever seemed to lower a bit and level off.
It was now close to midnight and the attending doctor made the decision that I was more stable and could go home. I was elated. At that point, the doctors thought that I had a non-specific virus that had gotten a bit out of control and that bed rest with lots of fluids would be the answer. They removed the IV from my left arm and had Sara sign the release waver. I began to put on my street clothes when it happened.
In a matter of moments, rigors set in. For those of you not familiar with the term, rigors refers to the shaky chills one feels when your body sets a new set point for body temperature in the hypothalamus. The feeling is very similar to when you are exposed to extreme cold and cannot get warm. Your body shivers and shakes in an attempt to generate enough heat to keep you warm. But this was much more dramatic. I began shaking in my legs and alternately in my upper body and arms. I immediately asked for blankets from the nurses, but they were unwilling as they exclaimed that covering me would only cause my fever to rise too much. Sara grabbed both my jacket and her jacket to give me some warmth, but it was a little too little too late. By this time I was shaking uncontrollably. In fact the shaking was to terrific that I could no longer breathe easily or steadily. The best I could muster was occasional gasps. The nurse asked if I wanted a Motrin, but I could not respond as I could not get enough air into my lungs to form even a simple yes or no. Sara noted that it was at this point my lips were blue from lack of oxygen.
In addition to the inability to breathe, I could feel muscles all over my body getting pulled too tight. My ribcage muscles ached from over tension, as did my thigh muscles, arm muscled, back muscles and neck muscles. About 15 minutes into this minor drama terror, the doctor showed up and obviously did not like what he saw. He immediately rescinded the release waver and a new IV was installed in the bend of my right arm as the rigors slowly subsided. The whole episode lasted about 20 minutes, but the fear of the event and the pain from pulled muscled lasted for the next few days.
In the next hour and a half, the hospital found me a room and I was taken there. It was now around 1:30 in the morning on Friday morning and I sent Sara home. It had been a full night for both Sara and I.
Monday, October 22, 2012
Reasonable Health? (part 1)
Let me start off by saying that this one blog, may be the most personal I have or will ever post (time will tell). If you find yourself getting skweemish from the writing, please understand you are always free to stop (even now) and look no further. What I am writing about is a pretty serious health issue that happened just this last week and is still happening. Obviously, this is of serious importance to me but also many of you reading this might find some information that could possibly save your life sometime down the road. Just to allay your possible fears, whatever you think happened is definitely wrong.
Last Saturday morning, I was working around our house getting ready for a gathering we were hosting later that afternoon. Sara, James and I had the house pretty much together by noon, so I went to work putting together some food for the social. You see, the gathering was a group of new faculty that had joined the school where my wife and I work and the folks from the meeting were we are members. Who these great folks are is actually of very little import to the story so that will be left out. They know who they are. :-)
By 1pm, I started to feel a bit feverish and a little dizzy. Since we were 98% ready, I adjourned to my bedroom to rest. At that point I checked my temp and found it to be a mere 99.5 (all degrees in Fahrenheit, sorry rest of the world ). Still, I was beginning to feel weak, so I laid down.
About an hour later, I awoke and checked my temp again, 100.5. Now I was getting concerned. I called Sara upstairs and told her the news. She and I agreed that it was too late to send everyone away, but that I would stay in bed away from the gathering, while she hosted.
From the quiet of the bed, it sounded like folks had a great time meeting each other. They stayed the 3 hours scheduled for the pot luck meet and greet and headed home at about 7pm. A few very helpful folks stayed for another hour to help my wife clean up and left. At that point, my fever was about 102.
In addition to the fever and the dizziness and the weakness, I was beginning to feel very achy all over my body (read the joke about the guy who hurts all over) and I was definitely starting to feel nauseous. This day was not going well for me, and I was beginning to feel like I may have picked up the flu somewhere. That night, I met a fever of 103.5 which convinced me to take a dose of aspirin and go back to sleep.
The next morning was the beginning of a roller coaster of fever; up to 103 and back down to 99.5, over and over again. My appetite completely disappeared and there was not a spot on my body that did not hurt. Even my teeth hurt!
I began drinking lots of clear liquids; water, apple juice and ginger ale. I even worked very hard at eating some apple sauce and the very occasional banana. There were times where I thought I might be turning the corner, and there were lots of times where it was obvious that I might be getting worse. I was so sure that I had a flu, that I did not bother to contact my doctor will Tuesday that week.
After examining me, he was not so sure it was the flu (smart doctor). But I was so sure that I convinced him with a true story that 2 of my students the previous week had come to their lessons immediately after recovering from flu viruses. He let me go home with the caveat that I would contact him on Thursday if the fever did not drop to below 102. On Thursday, I recorded a fever of 102.5 and contacted my doctor. He sent me immediately to the hospital.
Last Saturday morning, I was working around our house getting ready for a gathering we were hosting later that afternoon. Sara, James and I had the house pretty much together by noon, so I went to work putting together some food for the social. You see, the gathering was a group of new faculty that had joined the school where my wife and I work and the folks from the meeting were we are members. Who these great folks are is actually of very little import to the story so that will be left out. They know who they are. :-)
By 1pm, I started to feel a bit feverish and a little dizzy. Since we were 98% ready, I adjourned to my bedroom to rest. At that point I checked my temp and found it to be a mere 99.5 (all degrees in Fahrenheit, sorry rest of the world ). Still, I was beginning to feel weak, so I laid down.
About an hour later, I awoke and checked my temp again, 100.5. Now I was getting concerned. I called Sara upstairs and told her the news. She and I agreed that it was too late to send everyone away, but that I would stay in bed away from the gathering, while she hosted.
From the quiet of the bed, it sounded like folks had a great time meeting each other. They stayed the 3 hours scheduled for the pot luck meet and greet and headed home at about 7pm. A few very helpful folks stayed for another hour to help my wife clean up and left. At that point, my fever was about 102.
In addition to the fever and the dizziness and the weakness, I was beginning to feel very achy all over my body (read the joke about the guy who hurts all over) and I was definitely starting to feel nauseous. This day was not going well for me, and I was beginning to feel like I may have picked up the flu somewhere. That night, I met a fever of 103.5 which convinced me to take a dose of aspirin and go back to sleep.
The next morning was the beginning of a roller coaster of fever; up to 103 and back down to 99.5, over and over again. My appetite completely disappeared and there was not a spot on my body that did not hurt. Even my teeth hurt!
I began drinking lots of clear liquids; water, apple juice and ginger ale. I even worked very hard at eating some apple sauce and the very occasional banana. There were times where I thought I might be turning the corner, and there were lots of times where it was obvious that I might be getting worse. I was so sure that I had a flu, that I did not bother to contact my doctor will Tuesday that week.
After examining me, he was not so sure it was the flu (smart doctor). But I was so sure that I convinced him with a true story that 2 of my students the previous week had come to their lessons immediately after recovering from flu viruses. He let me go home with the caveat that I would contact him on Thursday if the fever did not drop to below 102. On Thursday, I recorded a fever of 102.5 and contacted my doctor. He sent me immediately to the hospital.
Wednesday, July 25, 2012
It isn't always about the strongest and most mentally stable...
We have all seen the news about the shooting in Aurora Colorado. A self confessed madman walks into a movie theater and guns down 70 people before calmly walking away. I wish I could say this is a rare event, but it has become all too common in the US. What is the answer to this problem? Is this the way of the future for the United States or can something be done to stem the tide of rampant gun violence?
According to health department and Government statistics, there are approximately 30,000 US deaths due to firearms in the US each year.
So the fact that James Holmes only killed 12 and only shot 70 should not be a reason to make any changes in the gun laws cause his additions to the daily list does not change the number in any significant statistical way. And considering the uber-powerful gun lobby (including the NRA) in the US, it is unlikely that any new legislation about guns will even be considered.
I read yesterday that there are near 300,000,000 guns in the US today. And I am hearing talk that gun ownership should be mandatory from folks who are part of the gun lobby. Their point is that if others in the theater had guns, James Holmes would not have been able to kill and wound as many folks as he did. To add to this thought, the actor Will Smith suggested that a gun sitting on a table will not hurt anyone and that it is the human that pulls the trigger that actually does the harm. After all, a knife will do as much harm if the human wielding it wants to kill.
I am a reasonable man and the argument above sounds reasonable, on the surface. However there is an 800 pound gorilla in the room that the above argument ignores. Humans are human and as such are prone to mistakes and errors in judgment. For the sake of the argument lets look at the instance above suggesting others in the theater having guns for protection being willing and able to stop the shooter from harming others. I'm not so sure a dark theater full of folks shooting at each other would be safer than a lone shooter dealing out lead. I can easily imagine that the folks who have the presence of mind in the tear gas filled, dark, smokey environment possibly missing the assailant and hitting the folks behind or around him. And once the bullets started to fly, how could anyone discern who the original shooter was? Can you imagine being the third or fourth person to pull out a gun and begin to fire into the dark? If that had happened, we might be looking at a lot more deaths and wounded than the current number. And if guns were mandatory, what would have happened when 100 folks in the dark, smokey theater started to fire guns? I shudder to imagine the chaos that would have caused.
The other common argument for the gun lobby is that "guns don't kill people, people kill people". This is a snappy comeback that seems to be a clear truism. But again, if you actually reason out the argument, you find that it is full of holes. Lets take that same argument to a clear extreme; hydrogen bombs don't kill people, people kill people. I understand that the difference between a hydrogen bomb and a gun is an extreme one, but the similarities are clear. Left by itself, hydrogen bombs will not kill anyone and neither will a gun. Hydrogen bombs are meant as a deterrent against aggressive acts and so are guns. Hydrogen bombs can be used aggressively and so can guns. Both can kill. Both are meant to be used by only one species on the planet, mankind. Yet I cannot imagine that anyone believes that we should all own hydrogen bombs as a form of personal security. And the reason for such a belief is twofold, a hydrogen bomb can cause much more damage than to just it's intended victim and humans are error prone so such a weapon could cause much more damage than the original need. For example, a suicidal person could use the hydrogen bomb to kill themselves and others. A distraught and angry person could use the nuclear weapon to kill lots of folks and themselves. A crazy person could just go on a rampage and kill everyone in sight. A kidnapper could use such a weapon to extort someone for huge sums of money. But haven't I just described common uses for guns?
Now that everyone reading this is sure I am totally against gun ownership, let me be clear. I believe owning a firearm is a right. Gun owners have a right to own and keep as many guns as they like. I own 20+ guitars even though I can only play one at a time. I have no problem with folks owning as many guns as they want. And even if you make the argument that the founding fathers did not foresee the way guns are used today, I still think gun ownership is a clear right that should not be messed with.
So why am I even bothering to open my mouth? Because the way we are dealing with gun ownership in the US today is not working. The statistics prove it. And I believe it is time to take a hard look at what we fear that makes people feel like we should all carry guns. Do we really believe the US would be safer if everyone owned guns? Are we so naive that we believe everyone is stable enough to own a weapon of mass destruction? To those who own firearms, have you ever been in a situation or under enough stress where you fleetingly thought that a gun might be the answer to your feelings? After all, you are human and you have feelings. And that is the reason that there needs to be strict gun control. People are human and humans make errors in judgment. You give that person a way to kill easily and quickly and over the course of a lifetime, they are bound to make errors in judgment.
I don't pretend to know the answer, I just know that the question is staring us all in the face. How much longer will we ignore that something needs to be done to stem the tide of gun violence and deaths in the US? I have friends who have died looking down the barrel of a gun. Do we all need to have that happen before we decide that gun regulation needs to be real?
According to health department and Government statistics, there are approximately 30,000 US deaths due to firearms in the US each year.
In 2007 according to the Centers for Disease Control Faststats and the National Center for Injury Prevention and Control WIQARS Leading Causes of Nonfatal Injury Reports:
48,676 people were intentionally shot who survived. (NCIPC)
18,610 people were unintentionally shot who survived. (NCIPC)
17,352 suicides (intentionally shot themselves who died) (CDC)
12,632 criminal firearm deaths (killed in a crime by guns) (CDC)
This does not include deaths of people intentionally or unintentionally shot for legal reasons (Like the police shooting a suspect).
The above total is 97270 people shot in the US in 2007. About a third (29984) died, and it is likely that the total number of Americans shot is at least 100,000 given that all types of gunshot injuries/deaths are not included.
Using just the numbers above, a little math indicates that in the US, every day during 2007, at least 266 Americans were shot. Every day, approximately a third of them (82) died.
So the fact that James Holmes only killed 12 and only shot 70 should not be a reason to make any changes in the gun laws cause his additions to the daily list does not change the number in any significant statistical way. And considering the uber-powerful gun lobby (including the NRA) in the US, it is unlikely that any new legislation about guns will even be considered.
I read yesterday that there are near 300,000,000 guns in the US today. And I am hearing talk that gun ownership should be mandatory from folks who are part of the gun lobby. Their point is that if others in the theater had guns, James Holmes would not have been able to kill and wound as many folks as he did. To add to this thought, the actor Will Smith suggested that a gun sitting on a table will not hurt anyone and that it is the human that pulls the trigger that actually does the harm. After all, a knife will do as much harm if the human wielding it wants to kill.
I am a reasonable man and the argument above sounds reasonable, on the surface. However there is an 800 pound gorilla in the room that the above argument ignores. Humans are human and as such are prone to mistakes and errors in judgment. For the sake of the argument lets look at the instance above suggesting others in the theater having guns for protection being willing and able to stop the shooter from harming others. I'm not so sure a dark theater full of folks shooting at each other would be safer than a lone shooter dealing out lead. I can easily imagine that the folks who have the presence of mind in the tear gas filled, dark, smokey environment possibly missing the assailant and hitting the folks behind or around him. And once the bullets started to fly, how could anyone discern who the original shooter was? Can you imagine being the third or fourth person to pull out a gun and begin to fire into the dark? If that had happened, we might be looking at a lot more deaths and wounded than the current number. And if guns were mandatory, what would have happened when 100 folks in the dark, smokey theater started to fire guns? I shudder to imagine the chaos that would have caused.
The other common argument for the gun lobby is that "guns don't kill people, people kill people". This is a snappy comeback that seems to be a clear truism. But again, if you actually reason out the argument, you find that it is full of holes. Lets take that same argument to a clear extreme; hydrogen bombs don't kill people, people kill people. I understand that the difference between a hydrogen bomb and a gun is an extreme one, but the similarities are clear. Left by itself, hydrogen bombs will not kill anyone and neither will a gun. Hydrogen bombs are meant as a deterrent against aggressive acts and so are guns. Hydrogen bombs can be used aggressively and so can guns. Both can kill. Both are meant to be used by only one species on the planet, mankind. Yet I cannot imagine that anyone believes that we should all own hydrogen bombs as a form of personal security. And the reason for such a belief is twofold, a hydrogen bomb can cause much more damage than to just it's intended victim and humans are error prone so such a weapon could cause much more damage than the original need. For example, a suicidal person could use the hydrogen bomb to kill themselves and others. A distraught and angry person could use the nuclear weapon to kill lots of folks and themselves. A crazy person could just go on a rampage and kill everyone in sight. A kidnapper could use such a weapon to extort someone for huge sums of money. But haven't I just described common uses for guns?
Now that everyone reading this is sure I am totally against gun ownership, let me be clear. I believe owning a firearm is a right. Gun owners have a right to own and keep as many guns as they like. I own 20+ guitars even though I can only play one at a time. I have no problem with folks owning as many guns as they want. And even if you make the argument that the founding fathers did not foresee the way guns are used today, I still think gun ownership is a clear right that should not be messed with.
So why am I even bothering to open my mouth? Because the way we are dealing with gun ownership in the US today is not working. The statistics prove it. And I believe it is time to take a hard look at what we fear that makes people feel like we should all carry guns. Do we really believe the US would be safer if everyone owned guns? Are we so naive that we believe everyone is stable enough to own a weapon of mass destruction? To those who own firearms, have you ever been in a situation or under enough stress where you fleetingly thought that a gun might be the answer to your feelings? After all, you are human and you have feelings. And that is the reason that there needs to be strict gun control. People are human and humans make errors in judgment. You give that person a way to kill easily and quickly and over the course of a lifetime, they are bound to make errors in judgment.
I don't pretend to know the answer, I just know that the question is staring us all in the face. How much longer will we ignore that something needs to be done to stem the tide of gun violence and deaths in the US? I have friends who have died looking down the barrel of a gun. Do we all need to have that happen before we decide that gun regulation needs to be real?
Friday, July 6, 2012
Partisan politics or spite at the cost of the USA economy?
I'm an Independent. More accurately, I'm a fiscal conservative and a social progressive. I am definitely more fiscally conservative than the previous 3 Republican Presidents and more socially progressive than the previous 3 Democratic Presidents. So that puts me squarely in the Independent realm. But to be completely clear, I chose to register as a Democrat some years ago as it became clear that the Republican party started to stick their nose into the personal business of the common American. In other words, the Republicans moved so far right that the center now is squarely Democrat.
Don't believe it? If you look carefully at his record of work as President, Clinton was probably the most successful Republican (policy) President of the last 30 years. And in many ways, Obama has done more for the wealthy than he has for the poor. These "liberal" Presidents are more right leaning than even Reagan. In fact, Reagan would not even fit into the current mold as a conservative!
So in this crazy world of partisan politics, it may not come as a shock that the extreme right, that has taken over the Republican party, has decided that it is more important to defeat President Obama than it is to help the American people. And they haven't even tried to keep quiet about it. I guess that they figure that with all the rhetoric and spouting of doom and gloom, their agenda to kill the US economy and a chance of an Obama reelection might go unnoticed.
Don't believe it? If you look carefully at his record of work as President, Clinton was probably the most successful Republican (policy) President of the last 30 years. And in many ways, Obama has done more for the wealthy than he has for the poor. These "liberal" Presidents are more right leaning than even Reagan. In fact, Reagan would not even fit into the current mold as a conservative!
So in this crazy world of partisan politics, it may not come as a shock that the extreme right, that has taken over the Republican party, has decided that it is more important to defeat President Obama than it is to help the American people. And they haven't even tried to keep quiet about it. I guess that they figure that with all the rhetoric and spouting of doom and gloom, their agenda to kill the US economy and a chance of an Obama reelection might go unnoticed.
Yep, that was Mitch McConnell saying that the Republican Party "top priority" for the next two years would be denying President Obama a second term. As their "top priority", this would include a priority over working to put the American public back to work, ending the wars in the middle east, working to come up with a fair and balanced budget or any of the other bills they have blocked that would help move the American economy forward.
But maybe Mitch, the Republican leader of the United States Senate, didn't really mean what he said. Maybe he just didn't like President Obama and thought saying something so nasty only a year or so into the Presidents term in office was just a light hearted quip.
So, he really did mean it; his actions and the actions of his Republican brethren prove it out. What is truly sad, is that in spite of the fact that this congress has blocked more bills and positive economic work than any 3 previous Presidencies and still the economy is beginning to turn the corner to the better. Imagine what might have happened if the congressional Republicans had not set beating President Obama nearly 3 years ago as their "top priority" and instead set the needs of the American people as their top priority.
Now, we are in the midst of a Presidential election. Should I vote for Mitt Romney with the idea that the Democrats in congress will not be as petty and self destructive as the current Republicans and will allow the American economy to grow as their top priority? Or should I vote for President Obama and hope that the self loathing congress folk who seem to care nothing for the American people will be voted out of office?
It is a difficult decision. On the one hand, I prefer the budget cut and rescind the Bush tax reduction on the wealthiest Americans that Obama favors over the cut all social programs except the military that Romney favors. On the other hand, I fear that the extreme right will continue to block any good that the government can do to help the American people because they have publicly decided to make their "top priority" making President Obama look bad; which includes ruining any chances for Obama administration policies to pass through congress.
And don't come back at me with the response, "Both parties are just the same and both do the same things". That is absolutely bullshit! In my 54 years of life, I have never seen Independent, Democrats, Libertarians or any other political party work so hard at ruining the American economy as the congressional Republicans have over the last 4 years. Many of the things Obama has been blamed for were Bush administration leftovers (e.g. three wars, stock market crash, housing crash, huge tax break for the uber-wealthy, bank payoffs, the biggest depression since the "Great Depression"...etc.). Digging the US out of that hole was not going to be fast or easy. And with a extreme Right wing congress determined to take down the President by blocking any and all positive economic policies, it has been a very slow recovery.
Sure, the Democrats do not walk lock-stepped like the Republican party and as a result, they tend to vote what they believe is best for their local constituents. So the Democratic majority did not push through all Obama policy during the beginning of his term. However, that proves my point that both parties are not the same. And during G.W. Bush terms as President, the Democrats allowed all sorts of non-Democratic Bush policy including war, spying on Americans, tax breaks for the uber-wealthy...etc.
But now I have hit the point of ranting and I will stop here. I am angry at the conservatives in this country. They have allowed them selves to be co-opted by folks who are not particularly conservative, but instead are moral police, and tattle tails. These folks are sure that the real reason for the poor economy is because of their perceived degradation of moral fiber in the US. Yet they forget Matthew 7:1, "Judge not that ye be not judged."
And to those folks I would say, only God can judge, and you are not God. So get off your high horse and do like Jesus, mingle with the poor, the down trodden and the sinners. And stop trying to govern morality. Instead, allow the government, with all it's resources, to help rebuild the American economy, and make that your "top priority".
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