Day: June 7, 2017

My annual heart exam is always an emotional time for me. I have a good cardiologist who gives me15 minutes a year, but they were good minutes. My heart is strong and healthy, I don’t even have to see him for another year (three years out of open heart surgery). We argued about statins and beta blockers, and he buried me in stats and studies. I always feel lucky to be alive after these exams, I almost was not alive a few years ago.

He said I am doing very well, and that is good to hear. I know I am vulnerable and uneasy after these exams, they remind me of a difficult time. On the way home, I looked over and this little trailer, they call it a “Little Guy” was by the side of the road for sale.

I pulled over. The trailer is brand new, a 2017 mode. it has a stereo CD-DVD player, a flat screen TV, Internet, a small freezer and stove, a microwave oven, and a 10 by 10 foot attachable screen room that is included. The trailer costs less than one of my lenses. I could pull it in my car, all we would need is a hitch and insurance.

I loved looking at it. I have this dream of having a small trailer like that, my car could pull it. In the fantasy, Maria and I would sail off to a campground or a beautiful place in the woods for one or two nights every now and then. We would stop for dinner, park our trailer, sit out and read and talk in the attached screen room (safe from bugs) and then go and sleep in the cozy King Size bed inside.

We could bring one or two dogs, especially Leroy, the puppy. I imagine waking up in the woods, wrapped around Maria – we sleep like two octopuses all tangled up. How nice to wake up by a stream listening to song birds. There are some great camping places around here, we would have fun yakking with people. There is a small refrigerator for milk and cereal. I could blog from the trailer.

We would not go very far, or even very often, but it would be special and beautiful time. It is a bad idea for reasons that are too long to even list, and I am certain we will not do it.  Fantasies are fine, but reality is stronger.

But Maria agreed to go look at it this evening, the owner is going to meet us there. She didn’t scream at me for mentioning it or tell me I was crazy.

We have a lot going on in our lives right now, and a lot of meaningful ways to spend our money,   but this little trailer really got to me, and I love fantasizing about it. Fantasies are important. I think when you have open heart surgery and then visit your cardiologist you realize that life is short and should be lived fully and well.

After my surgery, I rejected hatred and fear for good, life really is too short, and mine could always end abruptly, as my doctor always reminds me.

I don’t know that we can afford it, and I don’t know that we would want it even if we could. I don’t even know what the final price would be. But I do want to go look at it, it is shockingly inexpensive. I can’t honestly say why. This has been a dream of mine for a long time, especially since I have been with Maria.

Maria was stunned that I had this fantasy, she said I have never even mentioned camping. This true, I have always hated the idea of camping, but this seems doable and reasonable to me. Today I was reading about a lens I did not even think of buying that cost a third more than this little trailer.

So I am sure I will come to my senses tonight, and if not, Maria will bring me to my senses. The trailer definitely spoke to me, but that doesn’t mean I have to listen.

My Open Heart Surgery was almost three years ago, not four as I suggested earlier  – I came home on July Fourth – and I suppose it was a landmark chapter in my life. My broken heart has been doing  well, going strong. I shovel snow, mow lawns, move firewood. I have angina now, so walking up hills can be uncomfortable. But I bike for at least four hours a week without any trouble.

This afternoon is my annual (sometimes bi-annual) visit with the cardiologist. In some ways I look forward to knowing my broken heart is working well, but it is not something I really look forward to. My cardiologist is one of these very competent and professional men who live by scientific data, and will rarely venture beyond it.

If he sees me in the hallway, he looks the other way and pretends not to see me. He doesn’t like to chat. I trust him, but we will not be going to the movies together or having lunch.

These visits are fairly de-humanizing.  Lots of waiting, an EKG, 15 minutes with my doctor, it seems a short time for such  large subject, but that is the way of the world. I can’t afford the Concierge doctors you can call up on the phone and go see, that is for people with lots of money, for whom health care is very different in America.

I always feel a bit disconnected there, as if I am being treated well, but not in any way, known. Take your weight, blood pressure, take a seat, the doctor will be along shortly. Nobody knows my name.

Female nurses and doctors seem different to me, they wish to know me, at least a bit. But the cardiologist is important, I have done well in  my recovery, and he gets some credit for that.

Today,I will continue my efforts to assert more control over my medications and take responsibility for my heath.

I will seek to drop the beta-blocker, it is called metropolol and it is supposed to lower blood pressure and slow the heart. It also sometimes causes fatigue and drowsiness.

Last year, my doctor said he only had data for this medication for three years after surgery, and there was no data after that. If there is no data, then we don’t talk much about it, it’s up to me.

My doctor said he would consider letting me drop it after three years, so this is my chance. Earlier this year, I stopped taking statins, I was allergic to them and they cause severe joint and muscle pain. It took me several years of arguing to get off of that medication, which is a poison for me.

Like most patients, I am torn between listening to the doctor – he knows more than I do, and I know it  – and listening to myself: nobody knows more about me than I do.

I take several well-regarded and researched holistic medications for lowering cholesterol (two doctors I know recommended them to me, they are Red Yeast Rice and Cholestepure-Plus) and my cholesterol has always, in fact,  been low. I get blood work done every three months under the care of my (female) nurse practitioner and she says to follow my heart, as it were and get off the stains. She did.My cardiologist fought hard for me to stay on the statins the date is overwhelmingly good, especially for people like me.

We’ll keep testing to make sure everything is okay, and if it isn’t, we’ll make adjustments.

I appreciate her. As a diabetic and a heart patient, I am at risk for heart failure and strokes, but I also wish to live my life in a healthy and active way. It is not good for writers to get drowsy, even though it is short live and had not damaged my work.

The challenge for me is to make my own decisions and be the true primary care expert for me, within reason. I feel strong clear and active, and last night I biked for an hour and was not even mildly winded.  I’m going to tell my doctor what it is I wish to do. I don’t want to have a stroke or heart attack, but I don’t want to live forever either, and I want the time I have left to be meaningful and active.

So I know a lot more than I did four years ago, and it is in some measure now, up to me.

There are many more photos, books, blog posts, days with Maria and the dogs, new puppies and good works ahead of me. I plan to stay healthy for all of them.

I have a lot to do and I am eager to get to it. I hope my doctor can hear that, because I also know the final decisions and responsibility lies with me.

I love almost all of Ed Gulley’s junk art, and the Tin Man has just blown both of us away, but I am also drawn to a smaller piece of Ed’s called “Flowers,” it is $60, and there is something original about this industrial rendering of flowers, all from farm tractor parts. If I bought this, it would go right next to my muse on my desk, I think it would lift me up as I wrote.

Ed is offering it for sale at our Open House this weekend.

I have ethical reservations about buying stuff before anyone has a chance to see it or buy it. I have lots of Gulley pieces. So I will give anyone out there  a chance to buy it first (this one would be fairly easy to ship) and also give the visitors to the Open House a day to buy it if they like. If I’m meant to have it, I will.  If anybody out there wants to buy it or hold it for them, you can e-mail maria at [email protected].

Ed is coming with “Silly Sally,” a cow who is especially friendly. Can’t wait to see how Fate deals with her. I had this thought of bringing Leroy the puppy to the Open House, but I think it’s too early – he’s only six weeks old and hasn’t had all of his shots. I called Cassandra at the Cambridge Valley Vet, who is both experienced and direct, and she said “don’t do it.” So I won’t.

The sun returned to us today and Fate made the best of it, tearing around the sheep. She got hot and vanished far out into the wet and soggy marsh. We heard her splashing around out there but couldn’t find her. Then, her head popped out, she was cooling off and covered in mud and gook.

Donkeys love to have the insides of their ears scratched, that is where they often get tormented by bugs and flies and gnats. Maria and I are both good at this, but she is especially gifted at the double-donkey ear rub, rubbing the ears of Lulu and Fanny simultaneously.

We begin every day of our lives brushing and spending time with our donkeys, who we love dearly. They love this time, they hang back and wait for attention. Donkeys are independent, but they need human attention, it seems to ground them. Us too.