Grump Central Archive: Week of 1 March 2020

Saturday, 7 March 2020

I'm starting to slip a bit. I'm doing my best to keep a stiff upper and all that, but if this is to be my life from now on—daily meds and daily vitals and my daily Life Vest "rituals"—I can't say as I'm enjoying my "new" life all that much. My appetite is all but gone, I'm not interested in doing much of anything, and now I'm wondering if I'm just sitting around waiting for the inevitable. When my mind wanders and I think about strange things such as going out and doing a little shoplifting—just to spice things up a bit—I'll stop and take a stroll through the directory of local shrinks. My meds aren't merely making my head a tad woozy...

(Of course, I wouldn't really go out shoplifting just for kicks, but I will occasionally play little mind games such as this. While it may seem strange, many moons ago a therapist recommended such exercises as a kind of quick self-evaluation: as long as I snapped out of it with a bemused chuckle, I was probably good to go.)


Friday, 6 March 2020

OK, so today is Friday. Friday. I keep having to remind myself. The hospital stay punched a hole in my memory, and I lost track of time after that—I kept getting the day and/or date wrong. And, I'm officially old: I have bunches of meds to take every day, and there are medical devices all over the place. Bleah.


Thursday, 5 March 2020

When I saw this image of myself, I almost vomited. I look horrible! This health downturn has really taken its toll on my appearance. No wonder friends rush up to me and exclaim, "Are you all right?" It's evident that I'm not. Is this the same man who, up until a few months ago, was building his own home? Yikes!


Wednesday, 4 March 2020

Yes, yes, I know it has the potential to save my life, but this wearable defibrillator is driving me insane. Talk about itch! And I still can't drive anywhere, so I'm totally dependent on friends and neighbors to get me anywhere, and the helplessness on top of the incessant itch has got me grumpier than ever—I can't even stand being with myself for very long. I can't thank everyone enough for their patience with me. Yesterday I began turning the keys to my web domain over to others for safekeeping: it had an eerie, creepy finalness to it that spooked me for the rest of the day. In other news, the septic nightmare may finally be over. Strangely, however, the news carried no joy; I was neither relieved nor elated. In fact, it had some friends scratching their heads in utter bewilderment. One may as well have asked me, "Other than that, Mrs. Lincoln, how was the play?"


Tuesday, 3 March 2020

So now I have one of those pill counters so I can keep track of what I'm supposed to take when. I swore that if I ever had to have one of those, my life was over. Of course, it's not over yet, but I feel as if it is: two blood pressure meds, two blood thinners, one for anxiety, and one for cough. I feel as though I should rattle if I were shaken. Oh, and my belt which I'm supposed to wear 24x7 (and which I didn't wear last night). And if I get my days all wrong, please forgive me, I've lost track of what the date is—the last week has just been a blur to me.

Now we're down to the fine strokes: the doctors (all six of them) are busily trying to determine the root cause of the cardiac failure, as that will give them a target at which to aim. Possibility 1) Good old fashioned heart failure—the heart is just plain worn out. Possibility 2) is Sarcoidosis; ordinarily this disease affects the lungs, but it can also affect the heart well. And third on their list is Tachycardia, or abnormally high pulse rate. I've had this my whole life, so it's high on everyone' suspect list. Just a few more test, and they should have it pegged.

But then there's the heart monitor: Who knew it would interfere with the cooktop? It's not like it totally fails whenever they're both on, but there is something funky going on when they're both on. We'll get to the bottom of this eventually.


Monday, 2 March 2020

So now I have one of those pill counters so I can keep track of what I'm supposed to take when. I swore that if I ever needed one of them, my life was over. Of course, it's not over yet, but I feel as if it is: two blood pressure meds, two blood thinners, one med for anxiety, and one for cough. I feel as though I should rattle if I were shaken. Oh, and my belt which I'm supposed to wear 24x7 (and which I didn't wear last night). And if I get my days all wrong, please forgive me, I've lost track of what the date is—the last week has just been a blur to me.

Now we're down to the fine strokes: the doctors (all six of them) are busily trying to determine the root cause of the cardiac failure, as that will give them a target at which to aim. Possibility 1) Good old fashioned heart failure—the heart is just plain worn out. Possibility 2) is Sarcoidosis; ordinarily this disease affects the lungs, but it can also affect the heart well. And third on their list is Tachycardia, or abnormally high pulse rate. I've had this my whole life, so it's high on everyone' suspect list. Just a few more test, and they should have it pegged.

But then there's the heart monitor: Who knew it would interfere with the cooktop? It's not like it totally fails whenever they're both on, but there is something funky going on when they're both on. We'll get to the bottom of this eventually.


Sunday, 1 March 2020

Beeep. Beeep. Beeep. Beeep. Bonnng Bonnng. Beeep. Beeep. Beeep. My waking nightmare is that this bloody alarm can not be stopped. As it is, the beeping pauses for no more than five seconds before it cycles back to the beginning. And the little uselessly simple message remains unchanged: "CHECK BELT. If problems continue, call Zoll." The problem is that the screen faces away from the user, making it a challenge to troubleshoot. And every time the alarm goes off, it's just teeny bit louder. If this is a sanity test, then I've either passed with flying colors or flunked it with flying colors, and ask me which honestly I'd prefer—I just want it to stop. PLEASE.

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