Whatever happens to strike my fancy, but surely some sort of fiber content.
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| Like The Queen Whatever happens to strike my fancy, but surely some sort of fiber content. |
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11 Comments:
Oh my. I'm so glad he's doing well and it sounds like he had outstanding care. This sort of thing runs in my DNA too and I've been through this with my dad. The good news is that cardiac care has advanced hugely in the past couple of decades, and with a few lifestyle changes he may never have another episode like this. Healthy eating is not THAT bad.... :-) Oh darling Bess, {{{{{hugs}}}}} to you and to BD. It sounds like he is in good hands at the hospital, and I KNOW he is in good hands with you, thus on the road to recovery.
They have wonderful cardiologists in Richmond. A dear uncle of my stepchildren is one of them. If you want more info email me: eefdg AT yahoo DOT com.
By Oh, Bess. Glad to hear he is doing well, and in good hands. Take care.
bess-
Oh, my. I'm glad to hear that he's doing better, and that they can actually DO something to fix things. Oh honey, sending lots of good thoughts your way. Puppy distractions sound like a grand idea.
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Sweetheart, you and Ed are gifts, and I love you with everything I have. Please pass on my love to him, and know that your friends will do anything, any time, to help.
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Bess,
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Oh, Bess, virtual hugs from Illinois. Heart things are not to be taken lightly as my FIL learned a month ago.
Oh, Bess, virtual hugs from Illinois. Heart things are not to be taken lightly as my FIL learned a month ago. Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom] Thursday, April 21, 2005 I am having the hardest time not writing some flippant header for this post - like "It’s the big one, ‘Liz-a-beth!" or something else equally denying. After all, laughter can be a great healer. But the sad news is that my own dear BD had a pretty bad heart attack on Tuesday and I’m only now sitting down at the desk, with fingers poised over keyboard, the harsh glare of the monitor my only illumination. That, of course, is the bad news. The good news is that it is 2005 and the care for heart attack folk is really top notch. The really super duper news is that he’s going to be all right. The unbelievable news is that he has vowed to a number of people to "Eat like his wife". But he said it and I have witnesses. BD is the most vigorous man I have ever known. It’s one of my favorite traits about him - this crackling energy, boundless, powerful and extraordinarily masculine. Having grown up in a House-O-Girls, frilled with a stint in a Catholic girls’ school, and much preferring things feminine anyway, life with such a masculine sort of guy has always been like a really successful color combination in an important design project: Enough tension to bring out the depth of both, yet utterly complimentary and mutually enhancing. For some little while, though, he’s seemed - subdued is the only word I can find to express it. Not depressed, not really slower - though he has been slower - but muted. He confessed to me after all this happened that he’d been having pain episodes for a month now, but of course, he’s a Haile and they are too smart to ever get sick and besides, if you go to a doctor he will only attach some disease to your records and then you’ll really be sick. I am not kidding. I have known this man for 33 years and he has never, once, in all that time, had a physical. He’s gotten broken things fixed, but that’s it, as far as visiting the Land-of-Doctors. He has taken me to the doctor and horned in on my time by asking for medical opinions about himself - to which my good doctor would mostly answer, "talk to my secretary about scheduling an appointment" but he never did get around to it. You know the routine, if you don’t think about it, maybe it will go away. Well, this time it didn’t and we had a few scary moments there - scary enough to call in the helicopter to take him to Richmond, where very skilled fingers performed the angioplasty and inserted the stent. This, though, was well after I got the call from the emergency room that "your husband is a patient here". Stupidly I didn’t ask what was wrong, merely jumped in the car and dashed across town. Mind, now, my little town is only about 3 miles long. I was at the hospital in 10 minutes, max, but all the time I kept praying "Please don’t let it be bloody". Eh. We all have our weak places. He had a clot in the right artery that was causing him a great deal of pain, but his blood pressure was so low he couldn’t take anything for it. They gave him a morphine drip, which doesn’t really relieve pain, it just makes you not too fussy about it. He complained about the pain the whole time he was in the ER, but it never sounded like he ment it. He did, of course, and I hope the memory of it stays with him, because the sort of life changes he will have to make from now on are going to be mighty hard on him. He’d also gotten a clot buster - a kind of Drain-O for the veins. The blood pressure, though was the really serious problem, especially when it tanked about 20 minutes after 3. I tried to make myself as small as possible, but there was no way I was letting go of some part of him, mostly rubbing his feet and legs. I was at least not enough of a problem to make any of the half dozen folk in medical clothes tell me to get out of the way. I did break away a few times, to make calls to rearrange the World of Bess. In small town ‘murika you use the jungle beat network to get info spread to important places. Tell a few chosen people, and tell them to spread the word, and I can promise you, it is spread. It’s a good way to get things done, better than the Internet, actually. My assistant called LD’s boss who sent his wife out to the place LD was working, which happened to be just up the road from the hospital. He was with me fast, and even GD made it all the way from Montross to the ER in time to beam her golden smile down into his face and give him a hug and kiss. About the time he was being loaded onto the helicopter the clot began to dissolve so that there was a little flow taking place by the time he was with the surgeon. TheDarlings and I drove off just as the copter lifted off and BD was half way through the operation by the time we got there. By 7:30 I was hearing a sober man in green scrubs tell me how lucky my guy was and that it looked good - somewhere the word recovery was slipped into the conversation, but I don’t remember exactly where. Not too long after that we could all go see him and I was surprised at just how much visiting the CCU(used to be the ICU) station allowed him. He, of course, was giddy with relief - and was holding forth in his usually lordly host fashion - talking about everything that is important to him - his work projects, his new puppy, his plans for the future. Every other sentence, though, was interspersed with vows and promises. The New Regime. His Reformed Ways. His willing sacrifice of those baby back ribs. I spent the night at C’s house, mother of the D part of D&P. P took me back to the hospital in the a.m. and I did the important things wives need to do, to feel useful in chrome and tile science institutions. I know the secret places to massage that make my darling fall asleep. I know the real things that ease his worry. I know how tell him that we will make his new diet a culinary adventure - sparking his excitement, instead of trying to make him realize the serious nature of the changes he is about to undertake. The Doctrine of Pleasure. That is our guiding force. It doesn’t have to be hell - it can be a lot of fun. I’d gotten only about 3 hours of sleep on Tuesday night, but it took me forever to wind down last night and I still popped wide awake at 4:30 this morning. I’m at home, though, thankfully so. I will stay home this a.m. and put a little more order into things. The young darlings have been staunch and will seal their goodness by picking up the new puppy on Saturday so that BD will have a joyful distraction while he is under house arrest - I mean while he’s recovering. With luck he will be home Friday - otherwise it will be Saturday. Somewhere between now and then I’d like to have the house clean and some groceries bought. How lucky I’d already planned to be off today and tomorrow. Alas, I will miss being the spinning hostess at B’s house tomorrow, during the Va. Garden Week House Tour. It would have been great good fun, but there you have it. We cut our coat to fit our cloth. Funny, all that time I was at the hospital, though I carried around my Golding spindle and some BFL, I didn’t feel like doing anything with it till yesterday afternoon - and even then, only for about 20 minutes. Well - it is a new road we will be walking down. BD is the last male Haile of his generation, among all the brothers, first cousins, second cousins, and even 3rd cousins to have this heart attack issue. There is DNA talking here. And all the other men are doing splendidly now, though of course, they are all eating more chicken. So I have every hope of real recovery and maybe even a new and trimmer husband in the near future. Posts may be spotty for a while - or they may not. But I promise photos of the new puppy next week. posted by Bess | 6:49 AM |
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