CABG surgery plus four months

CABG surgery plus four months

It’s 16 weeks since 20.5.11 when I published the post before this one. In that time the blogosphere hasn’t been a major focus for me. I don’t know why. I seem to be tuned in to other matters. But today being the 4-month milestone since my CABG surgery, I feel the need to record some thoughts at this time. So here goes:

When I look back over the past four months I can remember everything, or at least almost all of it, in great detail. Yet I can’t really believe, and accept, it’s happened to me. Frequently I look at the long scar on my chest or the one on my left forearm to confirm that, yes, it did happen, and those memories haven’t been somehow artificially implanted into my brain.

Nowadays I am well – physically and psychologically/emotionally. I walk, and run, up hills as well as I ever did. Using a pedometer I ensure I walk at least 10,000 steps each day. (Since I started on 16.7.11 I’ve walked 562,728 steps total, at an average 10,231 per day.) Due to this walking, I’m up to date listening to the podcasts I subscribe to. For weather reasons I haven’t started riding my bike yet; though now Spring’s here I’ll start soon. I have no pain, no shortness of breath, no ankle swelling, no irregular heartbeat. In short, no cardiac symptoms. No, that’s not true; I have two, i.e. my heart beats stronger than before, and my resting heart rate’s 10% higher than before. Also I’m about 4 kg lighter. I’d like to put on 3-4 kg, but the 10,000 daily steps and the low fat/low sugar diet I’m on has so far prevented me doing so.

I take three prescribed medications each day, plus aspirin, fish oil and vitamin C. I still have a couple of medication issues; but they’re minor and, in the greater scheme of things, inconsequential. Anyway plans are afoot to sort them out.

I had blood tests on 19.7.11 and I saw my Launceston cardiologist on 4.8.11. He suggests review blood tests just before 24.11.11 when I’m due to see him next.

On 1.8.11, i.e. exactly 12 weeks postoperative, I resumed work in the clinic. (Before then, some work paperwork reassured me my brain was working properly.) During August I gradually built up my work, and from the start of September I’ve been back to full work. I’m content with the quality of my work, but (pun intended) my heart’s not fully in it. Having been on death’s doorstep, work’s less important to me these days. I’m curious to see if that’ll change in future. I doubt it will.

My darling family is my focus and my inspiration. Sweetheart Vivienne has stood by me and supported me – early on, literally on occasion. And my darling daughters and grandchildren have showered love and concern on me when in truth they don’t owe me anything. My darling sister Sue has been there for me too. Not to mention my friends and work colleagues. To offer you all my thanks is both insufficient and trite. But I do so anyway.

So, in summary, four months on, so far so good. Very good. When I wake each morning I consciously think how lucky I am to be waking up. And that the expertise and technology to save my life was available; and I had ready access to it.

My main aim for the next few months is to continue with my postoperative rehabilitation. I don’t know when it’ll be complete. But at some stage I’ll reach maximum improvement. I don’t think I’ve reached that point yet. Also, hopefully as the months stretch on I’ll become less obsessive about my health.

Other aims are to sell our Mole Creek property, and to begin planning our Musk Vale house which is across the road from darling Kate and her family. I can't wait to live there.

When will I post next on Farmdoc’s Blog. When I’m ready. Hopefully soon.

P.S. I should tell all those who’ve asked me, that my wedding ring was returned to me by hospital staff before I was discharged. I was so happy, and relieved, to have it back.

CABG surgery day

Yesterday mid-afternoon darling Emily drove Sweetheart Vivienne and me to the Melbourne Private Hospital [1]. A few minutes later, the paperwork had been done and we were in the ward. I had a chest x-ray and some blood tests. Then in the late afternoon we met my surgeon Mr Goldblatt. For the first time. In a gentle, unrushed and authoritative way, he explained to us what happens before, during and after the surgery. I quickly decided I had confidence in this man. Soon after, Sweetheart Vivienne left – with darlings Sue and Jeffrey who drove her home. Later the anaesthetist visited. During her stay the information flow was almost all from me to her. After she left, my arms, legs and chest were shaved. Then I showered, during which I scrubbed myself with iodine antimicrobial foam. Then I donned my pyjamas – the final symbol of my conversion from person to patient. Then I hopped into bed.

Today was CABG surgery day. I woke early. After a good sleep – courtesy of tablets. I had another shower including a further iodine foam scrub. And I donned one of those awful hospital gowns. No breakfast for me, of course. I was in the pre-operative fasting stage. The perfusionist (who was to operate the heart-lung machine keeping me alive when my heart would be stopped during the operation) called by. To bid me g’day. I remember saying I hoped he was in top form. And that he replied he was.

I was warmed by the thought that all day, three of our darling daughters would be physically with Sweetheart Vivienne. And the fourth – in the USA – would be with them in spirit.
Farmdoc’s Blog readers know my dad had clinical heart disease since his early 40s, and a heart attack killed him at age 56 [2]. (Then, in 1969, CABG surgery wasn't available.) Funny thing. All morning this morning I wasn’t Farmdoc. Nor was I Ross. I was Inigo Montoya – hero of the 1987 film The Princess Bride [3]. And continuously, as if on a tape loop, was Montoya’s oft-stated threat: Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die. [4] The heart disease that killed my father, and that was afflicting me, was about to be conquered. Not by Montoya’s sword. But by Goldblatt’s knife. (That Sweetheart Vivienne’s my Princess Bride's also relevant, of course.)

Late morning a nurse came to give me a morphine injection. And that’s my last pre-operative memory.

CABG surgery minus two days

A quiet day today. A stroll to Victoria Market with Sweetheart Vivienne. A long chat with Sweetheart Vivienne and darling Emily over brunch. A look at some surveillance video then a quick 2-page report on its content and implications. A skype video conversation with darling sister Sue and brother-in-law Jeffrey. Then a visit to long-time friends Peter and Vonne. Busy, busy. So not much time to think about my hospital admission tomorrow let alone the surgery on Monday. It’s hard to know if I’m getting closer to these events or they’re getting closer to me. Whichever or both is so, I feel strangely calm about it all. Why ‘strangely’? Because I reckon I should feel anxious. What’s about to happen is big. Bloody big. But my mindset remains positive. Optimistic. Which is strange for the cup-half-empty bloke that I am. Tomorrow? That’s another day. Today I’m okay. Really okay.

P.S. Thank you to those who wrote such supportive and comforting comments on yesterday’s post. It’s trite to write it, but I’m sincerely grateful to each of you. Also to Sweetheart Vivienne [1] and darling Kate [2] for blogging about me so lovingly. What a support team I have. I am a truly blessed man.

This week's compendium

Here’s this week’s compendium. This week…

1. the booksellers Borders and Angus & Robertson went into voluntary administration [1a]. I bet the government doesn’t offer them a generous exit package like it’s given loggers and their ilk [1b].

2. zinc was reported to reduce significantly the severity and duration of the common cold [2]. It inhibits rhinovirus replication.

3. I read that record sheep prices have stimulated a spike in duffing, i.e. theft [3]. That’s predictable of course.

4. Hepburn Wind’s turbines, on the SE Panthea, are due to arrive in Melbourne tomorrow evening [4]. It’s hoped they’ll be operational later in 2011. Yay.

5. a natural gas liquification plant opened in northern Tasmania [5]. LNG will only be used in trucks – because engines need costly rebuilds to run on LNG. LNG greatly improves fuel efficiency though compounding problems firefighters face if an LNG-powered truck crashes.

6. an Australian research paper showed the incidence of multiple sclerosis falls as sunlight exposure rises [6]. This effect’s been known for years. But its basis remains unclear. Sunlight and Vitamin D explain only 32% of the latitude incidence gradient.

7. a clinical guideline from the American College of Physicians discourages routine imaging for low back pain [7]. The College says routine imaging increases costs and complications – without improving outcomes.

8. darling sister Sue sent me this link to an interview her son (thus my nephew) Dion did last 12 January [8a]. I’ve previously labelled Dion a natural [8b]. This recent interview confirms he is. I’m proud of you, mate.

Finally, I wish you, dear Farmdoc’s Blog readers, a wonderful week.

I hope you're right, Tim.

Today’s ‘Positive and Optimistic Sunday’. The Bureau of Meteorology has just released its Annual Australian Climate Statement 2010 [1]. It says 2010 was our coolest year since 2001. Question: what does this tell us about global warming? Answer: nothing – because weather’s short-term and climate’s long-term [2]. In fact the Bureau’s Statement says that the 10-year period ending in 2010 was our warmest on record. Atmospheric CO2 continues to rise. Inexorably so. In the year to November 2010 it rose from 385.99 to 388.59 ppm; and its rise isn’t slowing [3]. Further, governments – especially my country’s – aren’t doing much about it. At least that’s my take. I admit I’m no expert in this field. So I rely on the media and books. Though as a cup-half-empty man (Darling sister Sue wants me to change. I’d like to, but I don’t know how.), maybe I’ve invoked confirmation bias [4]. Anyway last Monday’s ABC Science Show was entirely devoted to eminent climate change expert (and former Australian of the Year) Tim Flannery (pictured) [5] giving a talk and then answering questions. Surprisingly, Flannery was upbeat about global warming and climate change mitigation processes and future outcomes. The program’s an hour long [6]. If you’re already positive and optimistic about these matters, don’t bother listening. But if you aren’t, it’s well worth an hour of your time. Almost certainly, once you’ve listened you’ll declare: ‘How positive and optimistic is that’.

Celebrating; and bearing witness

My late Aunt Clara, a sister of my maternal grandmother, was born in 1900. So her age went ‘with the years’. Darling Indigo was born in 2000. So her age goes with the years too. My darling sister Sue (pictured) comes half-way between Clara and Indi. Sue was born in 1950. On 22 December [1, 2]. So today’s her birthday. Her 60th birthday. And it was my privilege, honour and pleasure to help her celebrate. At two parties. One for family (52 of us) last Sunday evening. And the other (‘zumba followed by lunch’) yesterday for her friends (and closest family). (To my relief, Sweetheart Vivienne and I arrived after the zumba had ended.). Sue – one of the most organised people I know – themed her 60th birthday festivities: Life & Love, Family & Friends. The two parties personified this theme: both were expressions of Life and Love – on Sunday to/from her Family, and yesterday to/from her Friends. On both occasions the love, admiration, respect, delight and gratitude – and noise – were almost palpable. What a joy to behold. Of course I participated in the celebrations. But I saw myself in another role too: bearing witness, on behalf of our late parents. How proud they would’ve been of their darling daughter – whose important and valued role in the lives of so many people signifies what a fine person she is. And what a fine role model. I don’t know if our mum and dad were in some way present at Sue’s birthday celebrations, observing these things. If not, I was there. As their proxy. Sue’s the only sister I’ve ever had. And the only one I’ll ever have. As fate’s determined, she’s the best sister. The very best. For that I feel blessed. Thank you, darling sister Sue. Happy birthday to you.

An old dog learns a new word

Today’s ‘Positive and Optimistic Sunday’. Without wanting to blow my own trumpet, I think I know a fair bit about the English language. Including its idiocyncrasies and grammatical nuances. I’ve read Don Watson’s books [1] Weasel Words and Death Sentence [2]’ also Lyn Truss’s book Eats, Shoots and Leaves [2]. I own a copy (albeit superseded) of the Australian Government’s Style Manual [3]. I frequently consult my 2,129-page copy of Webster’s Dictionary. I have a dictionary and thesaurus on my iPod Touch. I listen to the podcasts and receive email bulletins from Grammar Girl (pictured) [4]. I often discuss grammar with Sweetheart Vivienne. And we frequently tackle crosswords. So last Thursday I was nonplussed by this email from my darling sister Sue [5]. Paraprosdokian sentences? Never heard of them. A quick google search [6] revealed much. Coming from the Greek words meaning ‘beyond expectation’ [7], a paraprosdokian’s exactly as Sue’s email defines it. I’ve heard many of them in my lifetime; but until last Thursday I didn’t know their category name. Of course I should’ve been more humble about my knowledge of English. Indeed the more I know, the more humble I should be, e.g. Wikipedia says some paraprosdokians create a syllepsis [8] – also known as a symantic zeugma [9]. Yikes. At least I know more about English now than I did last Wednesday. A positive and optimistic notion? Sure.
P.S. h/t darling sister Sue.

This week's compendium

Here’s this week’s compendium. This week…

1. For this [1a] the three atavistic loggers were convicted. But they didn’t get custodial sentences [1b]. I don’t care that their work’s legal and they showed remorse. What do you think?

2. on 9/11 Geert Wilders [2a] spoke at Ground Zero [2b]. He may be a demagogue, but someone has to stand up and say something.

3. on a jollier note, my darling sister Sue sent Sweetheart Vivienne this [3]. Me? Argue with a woman? Never.

4. treehugger wrote of a Chinese pedal-powered washing machine [4]. Twenty minutes of pedalling per load sounds like a good deal.

5. it also wrote of clotted cream sold in Cornwall two miles from where it was made, but which travelled 340 miles to get there [5]. Ho hum.

6. salon.com reported heterosexual women are attracted to men who dance with flamboyant moves [6]. That’s me, babe. (Not.)

7. it also reported a Turkish study concluding fatter men have longer-lasting sex [7]. Cheers. I’m off to buy some creamcakes.

8. darling Kate’s craft virtuosity received more acclaim [8]. XXXXX to you, darling Kate.

Finally, I wish you, dear Farmdoc’s Blog readers, a wonderful week.

Maurie, Mitch and me

Mitch Albom (pictured) was born in 1958. He’s a man of many talents, but he’s best known as an author with book sales of over 26M [1, 2]. His breakthrough book, tuesdays with Maurie: an old man, a young man, and life’s greatest lesson [3] dates from 1997. It’d passed me by – until recently when my darling sister Sue suggested I read it. So I did. It tackles some profound life issues [4], though cursorily and not head-on. But it’s sold 11M copies, so readers have spoken. Here are three edited excerpts:

The culture we have doesn’t make people feel good about themselves. We’re teaching the wrong things. You have to be strong enough to say that if the culture doesn’t work, don’t buy it. Create your own. But most people can’t do it.

So many people walk around with a meaningless life. They seem half asleep, even when they’re busy doing things they think are important. This is because they’re chasing the wrong things. The way you get meaning into your life is to devote yourself to loving others, to your community around you, and to creating something that gives you purpose and meaning.
We’ve got a form of brainwashing going on in our country. Do you know how they brainwash people? They repeat something over and over: Owning things is good. More money is good. More property is good. More commercialism is good. The average person is so fogged up by all this, he has no perspective on what’s really important anymore.

Jessie Myers: my Nanna

In today’s post I’m winging it. I’ve no option. For, I’m ashamed to say, I know little of my subject. Much too little. Today I write of my maternal grandmother Jessie Myers (pictured) who was born Jessie Woolf on 19 April 1892, i.e. 118 years ago yesterday. I don’t know exactly where she was born, but it was in Victoria and probably Melbourne. I don’t know her parents’ names. She lived in Melbourne all her life. Her siblings were Connie, Jack and Bernie. I don’t know what year she married Samuel Joseph Myers (1888-1960). They had two daughters: my godmother Sadie Leah Myers (1918-99) and my mother Josie Patricia Myers (1922-95). My mother, and my father after they married in 1943, lived at 255 Beaconsfield Parade, Middle Park with my grandfather (Bampy) and my grandmother (Nanna) for many years. My darling sister Sue and I were born into, and grew up in, that extended household. Nanna was a large woman. But my main memory of her’s of illness. She’d had left breast cancer, and the resultant surgery and radiation produced left arm lymphedema (‘My big arm’, she called it.) She also had very unstable Type 1 diabetes, which despite insulin injections, seemed to me out of control most of the time. So she was frequently bedridden. I sat by her bedside a lot. After Bampy died, or maybe just before, Nanna began to have diabetic vascular complications. She was transferred to a nursing home in Brighton where she lived out her years. (After she left, my parents sold 255 and with Sue and me we moved to a Toorak apartment where we lived as a nuclear family.) I was in my early teens, so I had little medical knowledge then. But I think infections in Nanna’s foot developed into gangrene, and she underwent progressive amputations of toes, then foot, then leg. She also had had a stroke along the way, paralysing her (big) left arm and her left leg. I don’t know her year of death. It was in the mid 1960s – definitely after I’d begun to study Medicine in 1964, and before 1969 when my Dad died. Also I don’t know her cause of death. I reiterate I feel ashamed I know so little of an ancestor only two generations ahead of me. I hope to find out more over the next few years. Why am I ashamed? Because if it wasn’t for my Nanna, I wouldn’t be writing these words today. I owe you everything, Nan.

This week's compendium

Here’s this week’s compendium. This week…

1. planet green argued eloquently that, for several reasons, free parking’s not free [1]. Not to mention free lunch, of course.

2. cnet published the breakdown of global web browser usage during March [2]. Chrome, which I use, increased 9% during March, but it's still only 10% of Internet Explorer.

3. indeed at midnight last night, fire permits were lifted throughout Tasmania [3]. It’s bullshit that 2009/10 was ‘one of the worst fire seasons for many years’, however.

4. researchers reported that the disparity in mortality across the socioeconomic spectrum was largely explained by health behaviours [4]. Until now it’d been thought there was an innate social class disparity. This study shows it’s acquired, i.e. health behaviour’s related to social class.

5. my darling sister Sue sent me a memorable quote from LA Times columnist Burt Prelutsky [5]. There's more than a grain of truth in it.

6. a study concluded exercise reduces the risk of postnatal depression [6]. This adds weight to Sweetheart Vivienne’s view that exercise helps many psychological problems – including writer’s block.

7. wombat Bonney arrived at the Wombat Hilton [7]. Welcome to you, Bonney.

8. Sweetheart Vivienne received her first cheque for royalties on her book sales. Fantastic news. But what’s mine is ours, and what’s hers is hers [8]. (Just joking.)

Finally, I wish you, dear Farmdoc’s Blog readers, a wonderful week.

farmdoc's blog post number 699

Here’s this week’s compendium. This week…

1. Greenpeace Australia published a helpful analysis of the sustainability of various canned tuna brands [1]. Unless buyers take note, in a few years there’ll be no tuna for anyone to eat.

2. Nutrition Diva wrote that healthy people can eat up to two whole eggs a day without any negative effect on their cholesterol levels or heart disease risk [2]. It’s amazing how the previous medical advice – to the contrary – could have been so wrong.

3. the BMJ reported that sexual activity, quality of sexual life, and interest in sex were positively associated with health in middle age and later life [3]. It’s a chicken-and-egg situation. Do healthier people have more and better sex, or does sex make people healthier?

4. JournalWATCH reported that long-term mortality among live kidney donors was similar to that in healthy controls [4] There was a increase in post-operative mortality among the donors. But it was tiny.

5. Sweetheart Vivienne alerted me to a NYT article concluding PSA (i.e. prostate specific antigen) testing’s useless to detect prostate cancer [5]. Hmmm. Interesting. I’ll ponder it for a while, I think.

6. using six criteria, Greenopia rated BP the greenest oil company [6]. Not many of the companies listed operate in Australia. Anyway BP’s the best of them. Shell was fourth.

7. the Herald-Sun reported that Australian F1 Grand Prix organisers lied by saying the 2009 event’s twilight timing produced a massive increase in TV watchers [7]. Question: How do you know when a GP organiser lies? Answer: When he speaks.

8. indeed today, is darling Emily's birthday [8]. I love her more today than I did on her previous birthday. Much more.

Finally, I wish you, dear Farmdoc’s Blog readers, a wonderful week.

farmdoc's blog post number 693

At Jeffrey’s party last Friday evening, my darling sister Sue and I lamented that our Dad didn’t live to see any of his now eight grandchildren (of whom the oldest was born 26 months after his death). Some people have no children, or more rarely they die before their children are born. That’s a more heart-wrenching scenario, though it’s akin to the conundrum my daughters used to pose me: Would you rather die by being hit by a train or a truck? Tragedy (i.e. events resulting in great loss and misfortune) is universal. Every single person on this planet will, at some time in his/her life, experience tragedy. Not all tragedy’s equal. There’s a gradation. A hierarchy. At one end is death. All death’s tragedy – for family and friends at least. Then, I reckon, comes significant permanent disability – be it physical or psychiatric. To me, everything else is background music. In other words, not real tragedy. Even though, close to the event at least, we think it may be. So next time someone scrapes your car door in a parking lot, or you lose your keys or laptop or what have you, just think of my Dad who did not enjoy even one moment of the sublime bliss called grandparenthood. And spare a thought for Stieg Larsson (pictured) who died in 2004 at age 50 years, and whose Millennium Trilogy of crime novels which were published posthumously made him 2008’s second best-selling author in the world. And who had no children.

farmdoc's blog post number 692

I’m in Melbourne – for the first time in four months – to see my darling children and grandchildren, and for some family celebrations. Today I write of one of these celebrations. So there’s no compendium this week.

Last Thursday my dear brother-in-law Jeffrey turned 60. He and my sister Sue have been married for nigh on 40 years. So I’ve known Jeffrey for two thirds of his life. Over the decades I’ve seen him blossom. In all aspects of his life. He’s now a successful lawyer, respected community worker, keen cyclist, and recent Apple Mac convert. Also a life-long observant Jew. And, I’ve seen, a loyal and true friend. But, folks, I reckon above all Jeffrey’s a loving, and loved, member of his nuclear family. And of his wider family too. Never was this more evident than last night when he and Sue hosted a 60th birthday bash. In all 53 people were there – to celebrate not only Jeffrey’s birthday, but also the special place he occupies in each of those 52 other lives. It was a suitably joyful, emotional and often humorous time. Enjoyable. And memorable. There was too much food, of course. But there could never be too much respect shown to this remarkable man. The man who, on the day he and my sister were married, became my dear brother-in-law. Happy birthday, mate.

Finally, as usual in Farmdoc’s Blog each Saturday, I wish you, dear readers, a wonderful week.

farmdoc's blog post number 611

Today I write of secrets. I don’t like them.

So it’s no secret that I love my darling sister Sue. Today’s her birthday. Exactly a year ago, on her 2008 birthday, I wrote this. A year later I wouldn’t change a word of what I wrote then. Except that today I love her even more. I wish you a wonderful day today, Sue, and then a whole year of wonderful days until your 2010 birthday.

As much as I love Sue, I loathe politicians. Especially those that keep secret what they should divulge. Sure there are state secrets, in the interest of public security. But all other state information should be available to the public – in the public interest. I’m a citizen and I pay tax. Politicians who control the spending of public money must account for it. And be accountable for spending it. For example, in 2000, then Victorian premier Bracks set a A$40M annual cap on government ‘major events’ spending. But the cap’s notional and unenforceable, so the government’s unaccountable in relation to it. The Age reported yesterday that in the nine years since 2000, the cap’s more than doubled. It’s now A$80M plus. And still the government refuses to reveal to the public – the money’s owner – how much money the government spends, and what the financial return is on that money for each event. Why? Current Victorian premier Brumby (pictured) said: ‘This is a very competitive business, and we don’t give away our trade secrets’. Trouble is, the state opposition, for all its current sanctimony, is unlikely to be less secretive if it wins next year’s election. Ho hum.

farmdoc's blog post number 246

It’s curious, but the further on I get into old age, the more I find myself thinking about genes. I don’t know why. I’ve wondered if it’s ontogenic. A developmental thing. An expression of the need to ensure bloodline perpetuation. Anyway, this week it occurred to me that of every person of my generation in the whole world, the one who’s genetically closest to me is my darling sister Sue. And as well as our genetic similarity, we were both raised in the same home by the same people. However despite this concordance of our nature and nurture, and notwithstanding our gender difference, we turned out to be quite different people. Different likes in music, literature, films and TV programs. Different pastimes and interests. Different depth of religious belief and observance. I’ve speculated if it was ordained so, to avoid direct competition between us. All of her children being sons and all of mine daughters, could be further evidence of this. But this said, I've no doubt at all that our differences are overwhelmed by our similarities. I love her. Strongly, unreservedly, existentially. Always have. Always will. Every single conversation we have ends with a mutual declaration of that love. She’s a good and kind person. She’s an exceptionally wonderful wife, mother and grandmother. She’s my sister. And today’s her birthday.