Inimitability Isn’t Eternal

March 25, 2008 - I’m going to pick up a CD tomorrow for Diana with all my medical stuff on it.  I think it is so cool that I can have all that stuff in one place like that.  BECAUSE all my specialists are within UNMC Physicians, they all have computer access to everything that has transpired with me, and there’s no accidentally not remembering to tell some physician about something another physician said.

Totally awesome, in my book. 

In addition to yesterday, I found out the following today:

The 40% capacity on the mitral side? Yeah, that’s 15% down from when I had the stroke 18 months ago.  It was 55% when I had the stroke.  Now it’s worse.

I have aortic stenosis.
I have carotid stenosis, left side worse than right.

My stroke was embolic, not bleeding, caused by calcification that goes back to the radiation I had 21 years ago - AND the chemo I had 13 years ago.

My cholesterol issues are not from doughnuts, they’re from Daddy.
My high blood pressure still needs to be brought down a good 30 points.

The lipitor was doubled.
Toprol was added, 50 mg. a day.
The lisinopril was doubled.

On a good note, diabetes is not going to kill me. Neither is cancer.

Diana wants to put me in a home to guarantee I take my meds. I’d rather she put me in a mother-in-law’s house with my computer, my publishing company, NPR, the Wall Street Journal, and all my magazine subscriptions (see list on profile page) - and my dog and my gecko, and I promise I will take my meds.

I’m going to probably go just like Daddy, though - *poof* and I’m gone.  I just hope I don’t hit a holiday.

One thing’s for sure. I’m going to make a really beautiful corpse, at least until I’m cremated.

Heh.

OK now that I have that cynical, death-crap out of my system, this is what has to happen, and it has to happen NOW:

I have to lose the tummy I’ve been saving for reconstructive surgery. (Oh, well.)
Moderate, moderate, moderate exercise.
Zero carb diet, no crap out of the vending machines, and I have to not raid the candy jars in Tom’s office.
Always take my pills. I will die without them, and that’s a fact.
CUT the stressors. (I have NO idea how to accomplish that, considering what they are.)

So.

Who’s ready for that series about Tibet?

*********

Since I wrote this, I’ve had a short afternoon of fun stuff after the visit to the cardiologist and before the scheduled MRI, and these are a few things that came out of it:

I went in on a Nebraska Powerball ticket with 4 (I think) other people.  $26million if it happens (I trust Chuck).  I said all I wanted was $100,000, but yoiu know, if I had my chunk of that, I could sink money into the business, and I’d be happy for a very, very long time. 

After talking to a couple of the people in my department, I’ve decided I’m definitely going to write an ongoing series about the idiosyncrasies of this whole ordeal, and if UNMC wants to repost them, then by all means, they are welcome to do so.

I was pretty chipper going in for the MRI, but remembered a few things after I got into the machine:

1.  You take off all your jewelry, etc. for the same reason you never leave a spoon in the bowl when you’re reheating something:  Never put metal in a microwave.

2.  Remember your suntan lotion before you start.  It’s a long, hot 40 minutes.

3.  For 40 minutes you are not to breathe, move, blink, scratch, fart, cough.  All my bones that have to move every 20 minutes freaked out.

4.  Ohmygod.  Gunfire in Kosovo.

Anyway, it is nearly 9.  I am so tired I could almost cry (but I don’t do that), and so I am going to get to bed and try not to relive No. 4 again.

Night- all and this weekend will be the start of Tibet.  If you can find it, look on NPR for tonight’s Fresh Air interview with Pico Iyer about the Dalai Lama.  You will greatly appreciate it, believe me.