Regular Life

The human body is both amazingly tough and frighteningly frail. Here are updates on two older items, and a new development. The post I originally intended for this date will have to wait.

Fixing Diagnoses

The older you get, the older everybody else gets, and the more likely it is that someone you barely know, know well, or love dearly will fall ill or get hurt. Each gives me a tinge of selfish concern for my own mortality, but this post is not about me.

In the first case, the falling ill was not sudden, but the discovery of it was. My sister-in-law’s father, we’ll call him Big B., underwent quadruple bypass surgery Tuesday morning.

Heart disease is a potentially deadly lurker. A person can live 50, 60 years without knowing there is a problem. For some, there are signs that are not obvious. Shortness of breath can be attributed to just being out of shape, and some symptoms they don’t realize they have until someone starts asking questions. I don’t mean like a hypochondriac; the business of life can keep us from noticing things. Then, a doctor recommends a stress test, and all Hell breaks loose. Next thing the patient knows, he or she is being rushed to emergency bypass surgery and afterward becomes aware of things that before went unnoticed. Blood pressure, nutrition, cholesterol, all things that sit in the back of everybody’s mind, are thrust to the fore.

This happened to my mother-in-law and, now, Big B. Past a certain age, a man is supposed to have his prostate checked regularly. It’s strange to me that there is not some routine test to check for vessel blockages near the heart, something that kills far more people than prostate cancer does. It’s like having a ticking time bomb inside one’s chest with no way to detect it until it’s very nearly too late. In fact, for a while, MIL’s doctor kept telling her that all her problems (shortness of breath, blood pressure) would decrease if she would just lose weight. She was not healthy, but was not a fat woman, either. She finally switched doctors and promptly was brought in for the stress test that within a few minutes revealed major problems and led to her triple bypass surgery.

My father’s case was a bit more sudden and, arguably, more jarring. He woke up one night with left arm pain and clamminess, and turned out very fortunate that he suffered a relatively mild attack on a strong heart. They did not perform open-heart surgery on him, but did have to go in and clear out severe blockages and insert stints.

My MIL is healing well and felt like a whole new woman very shortly after her surgery. She’s getting in shape and breathing freer than she has in years. Her blood pressure still plays a few tricks, and some dangerous fluctuations sent her to the ER. On her hip is a monitor that constantly… monitors, and then she sends the information to the doctors via phone line so they can keep a close eye without her having to leave home. Still, she’s very active and is enjoying life.

Big B. came out of surgery fine, and after a problem-free procedure (unless you call the need for it in the first place a problem), his vitals are good. He’s a very strong man who has been through a lot, so I’m confident that his chances are just as good as MIL’s. To use a worn out phrase — time will tell how well the bypass “took.”

Fixing the Julia Story

I’m sure most of you read my post on “Julia,” my co-worker who was introduced abruptly and rudely to a softball. Quick refresher: softball hits face, breaks nose and bones under eye, and fractures skull. Well, as is my wont as a former journalist, I must make a correction. As I never did back then, I based the story on secondhand information from one source. In my defense, there was a scarcity of sources when I wrote it. Nevertheless, even a column should have its facts straight amongst the opinions.

This is a correction I’m happy to make.

The good news is, Julia is back at work and dropped by our area Tuesday. Had I not known she was in an accident, I would not have known she was in an accident (if it were not for football, I would not be playing football today). Her nose has a slight crook in it, but that might have been there before; I certainly wasn’t going to ask.

“So, you were just standing there and suddenly the ball came off the bat straight at your face?” I asked.

“No, I was waiting for the ball. A guy threw it in from the outfield, and I put my glove up for it. I guess I just lost track of it or something.” Later, she said, “He threw that ball way too hard. He felt just awful after it happened. I was laying there. People were asking if my eye was bleeding. It was coming from this gash in my nose.”

It was her skin’s only indication that something had gone wrong — a tiny cut across the middle of her nose.

The bad news is that Julia still cannot breathe through her nose, cannot taste most food, has four numb front teeth, and her head always aches. She must return often so doctors can make sure she’s not developing a condition that causes fluid to flow into her brain. Although she didn’t mention it to me, I know her medical bills already are large and do not promise to get any smaller. She did say, however, that it looks good for her to come onboard as a permanent employee next month. It’s tempting to wait until she’s on our insurance to go for some of the follow-up work, she said. Besides the numb teeth, I’m not sure what is safe to postpone. I hope she gets honest advice on those decisions.

“It’s been a hard time.” She tilted her head down and her voice wavered as she said it. She had been amazingly upbeat to that point, and quickly regained her compusure.

“So, have you bumped your head yet?” I asked.

“You know, I did, once. It was early on. I was walking back from the restroom, and I had to have the lights low because my eyes were still sensitive.” She pointed toward the right side of her forehead. “I just bumped right into the wall.”

“So, have you ever been hospitalized before this?” I asked.

She said, “No,” but she didn’t shake her head. “This last year has been weird, though.” One of her biggest worries before game time was that, because of a crushed toenail and another hurt toe, she would not be able to run well. That won’t be a problem for a while.

Fixing Jon

The doctors have made progress with Jon Wilkerson, and he shook his head as his father told a new nurse what happened to him. Still, he cannot speak to tell them what really happened, due to intubation. Doctors do not know whether he will remain paralyzed, because there still is so much swelling. I’ve never met Jon, but he means a lot to a close friend of mine (of the “First Best Friend” series), who flew Monday from Memphis to Seattle to see him. He has posted an update since arriving, and will try to continue that on his blog. By the way, his blog is on MySpace, which has been cast in a harsh light by the press lately. Just like anywhere else, it has its freaks, but it also gives folks a chance to stay informed and in touch.

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