Doctor Meetings

“Do you know the enemy?
Do you know your enemy?
Well, gotta know the enemy whah-hey…”
--Green Day

Well, I went to see to Doctors’ this week.

Dr. Dick is my Neurologist. He’s a nice guy, and he posed for the above picture with me. He let me drive, told me I would not be allowed any strenuous activity (that includes any and everything) for four more weeks, and then said that the higher coumadin range should solve the clot problem. He does not expect me to have another clot. He mentioned that I had the best recovery of any of his patients up-to-date with the procedure they did. He also told me that the clot was just that: a clot, not scar tissue or anything else.

I also met with my personal doctor, Dr. Duncan this week who was more concerned with my mental health. He told me that there were no guarantees out there (reminded me a bit of Mark and Karen) and that I had basically three choices. Live today like it is your last and enjoy it; live each day like you will talk about the events of the day again in twenty years; or live like you are dying and then the clot and the fear wins.

Both perspectives are interesting to me. Dr. Dick was so positive, but Dr. Duncan has known me for 15 or so years and he understands the depression I am going through.

I have done nothing to deserve it, I was in the therapeutic range with the blood thinner, and I basically worry over the make-up of my health—partially because I am sitting around the house dwelling, or I am bored. I have also had whacky dreams.

With time, I am thinking, the depression will end. To be more than confident, I have booked sessions with a counselor in two weeks.

I do know the enemy: sometimes, it is me. I am hoping for faith and my strength from above to deal with uncertainty, the fear, and the unknown associated with the stroke. I have much to be thankful for, and I am appreciative, but like the kid who is sick, looking at the neighborhood baseball game from his window, I want to go out and play .

So it seems like it is time to get back into the game.

My Kinda Brave Face...Needs To Be More Brave

“My Brave Face…
I’ve been living in style,
Unaccustomed as I am;
I’ve been hitting the town;
And it didn’t hit back.”

--Sir Paul McCartney and Elvis Costello from the song "My Brave Face" from the album Flowers In The Dirt 1990.

Week two since the stroke is over.

I went to the Award Night at the school to present a Social Science award to six dynamic kids. All went well.

This weekend I began to feel like my old self.

This Tuesday, I see Dr. Dick the neurologist (Probably better for him if he was urologist, but we have one in town named Dr. Leeky—no joke). I should send Guinness to see him.

Hopefully on Tuesday I will be free to drive and plan to be back to work by the end of the year. That would be fabulous.

It might also ease some burden on Jen. Jen is pictured above from a nice shot Mark took. She is so cute. She has that wry smile because she abandoned all of my high carb foods, which essentially means everything I used to eat.

Perhaps it was the drugs, the boredom, or the stroke itself this week, but I grew quite despondent about people I expected to send a note or call or something; and nothing occurred. Kind of bugged me, as some were from work, some relatives, and the like; but I then figured everyone has their own lives, and I should not be their focal point. And amazingly, I had an epiphany of sorts from Mark and Karen and Jen and my good friend Milt and my good friend Mick and others. What matter is how you respond? Mick reminded me that:

"Get Busy Living!" That doesn't mean live like you were dying; it means to enjoy each day each moment for what it is. We spend so much time dwelling on the negative; we forget to see all of the light that's out there.Eric, you still have a lot to give. Keep giving! You have a lot to live for. Keep living! No matter what others may think, feel, or say, you know that today is better than yesterday; tomorrow will be better than today. Values you have; use them to make your life better.Refuse to give people the satisfaction of thinking that you are defeated. Never, ever, ever, ever give up!”

Which was great advice. Karen told me how amazed she was all the former students who were concerned on Facebook and the like. “Lots of people love you, be appreciative.”

Mark reminded me that we cannot change how people feel and the best thing is not let them bring us down. If we do, we basically harm ourselves.

Jen reminded me, that I was incredibly lucky. Worry about what you do have going for you, do not worry about what you cannot control.

I really do not relish looking behind my shoulder wondering when the next stroke hits, so I moved to a low to no carbs diet; no beer; and hopefully more positive thinking. Depression is often accompanied by a stroke, but I will see someone, based on Dr. Dick’s approval/recommendation, and work it out.

The lines to one of my all time favorite Dave Edmunds songs, goes like this:

“I’m gonna start living again, if it kills me;
If it’s the very last thing I do…”

Seems like a decent philosophy. I mean some of my heroes made it back from their hard times: Superman died, Spider-Man lost the love of his life because someone knew his identity, Batman lost his parents, Green Lantern died, Green arrow died, Flash was trapped in time; Captain America died.

In the real world Walter Payton, the fittest man ever died; my friend Jerry (whom I worked with) passed away; I have friends who have survived cancer; one of the women I dated had her former husband hold a knife to her throat; I know people who have gone through Alzheimer’s cancer, heart attacks, and strokes themselves and all made it. They had courage and lived life to the fullest after their incidents. I want to be that example for Jen, my students, my family, my friends, other victims of stroke and heart disease; but probably most for my toughest critic, myself. I do not think that is selfish, I plan on being more forgiving and less annoying and less annoyed in the time I have left. I plan on being healthier as well.

Last night, while waiting for Jen to come by after work, I went out on the front porch, opened the door, and sniffed the air. It felt and smelled good. I noticed it and thought about good fortune and that there is a plan for me. I finally think that there is a/the Holy Spirit within me after all.

WHY Is Such A Simply Confusing Word

“So tell me why it don't feel the same

Tell me why I've got to feel this way”
--Collective Soul

Do you ever wonder, why me?

Why did this happen? Why did I think that? Why doesn’t this person like me? Why does the Good Lord ignore my pleas?

After the latest medical “happening” I came up with the answer: Why not me?

It has often been said that our load is not more than we can handle. I understand that philosophy, but my load is getting full.

That noted, I was pretty lucky last week. My Uncle Dan (pictured above with me) knew exactly what to do, as I wanted to “go home, I am overheated” I kept slurring. He insisted on calling medical emergency and kept saying, “You’re not right, man. Something is wrong.” The medical team showed up in perfect time and it was a five minute trip to the hospital. The machine that sucked my clot out is relatively rare to have in a community of 105.000 people. To have someone who knew how to work on call when I had my stroke, was equally unique, there was no waiting. Blessed to Be a Blessing, and counting them, as well. There is a purpose in my existance.

Karen and Jen have reminded me that when the doctors ran down their medical questions, I was making jokes. Like “are you pregnant?” My answer: “NO, I just look like it.” “Do you have a living will and does someone have power of attorney?” Jen said I did and my sister had the power, but they both said they could hear me in the background yelling “I WANT TO LIVE.” There were other jokes, but I do not wish to offend anyone.

Jen’s sister dates a nice guy named Ben. Ben has a few degrees his way and he is a bit of a right-wing republican—he also served in Afghanistan. The GOP bit aside, I like the guy. We discussed philosophy and he bought me a great book about the Case of Christ, offering a historical view of the Christian faith.

Since I have been home, I have lost 9 pounds. I have no residual affects of the stroke. I can move my left side fine, my grips and face muscles are fine, I have not failed one strength or command of faculties test.

I mean I know I need to lose weight, but this was not a wake-up call; it was a wake-up HOLLER! I know I have ignored my one beer limit more times than I can count, so this was a good thing there as well.

I learned my valve is functioning perfectly, I know I could have a DNA blood thinning problem (which I will alert my siblings about), I know Guinness, Chumley, and old Foggy love me very much and Guinness will not leave my side as I recover at home. I have learned that Jen loves me; that my family loves me; that my students miss me; my coworkers care; and that I have a wealth of friends.

Maybe I needed a wake-up holler.

Out Of The Darkness

"Now everybody have you heard

If you're in the game, then the stroke's the word..."
--Billy Squire

Pictured next to me is my fast-thinking and even faster acting Uncle Dan Kuglich whom I owe my life, if not my health. If you know Dan, call him and tell him he's a hero. No cape, but a hero nonetheless.

Last Wednesday evening, I threw a blood clot to the brain. I believe the Doctors said it was 100 CC. It went directly to my brain behind my right eye. Dan (former NCHS teacher) was with me and noticed the slurred speech and my lack of movement on my left side. I could neither lift my left leg or my left arm and was sweating profusely. The doctors used a newish procedure where they took a cath up my femoral (sp?) artery and used a machine to suction it out. It was extremely rare to have it here in Bloomington/Normal and to have a tech that could run it available. The good news is that the quick actions saved me from paralysis and/or death.

To be frank (and earnest if I can), it was the single most frightening moment of my life. I was dehydrated which could have thrown the clot, it could of been scar tissue from previous surgeries that tore away, or it could be a factor 10 (Factor X) blood condition. There was also a stress factor that could have lead to the condition--we all face stress, yet in my case I internalize much too much and am more than aware that I take too many things personally. My meds had been up to date, so I was following Doctors' orders and in a theraputic range. I had a team of six or so doctors trying to figure it out. I felt like it was an episode of House.

I am now home for the next three weeks.

Every situation teaches a lesson. When you lay alone in a hospital bed for a week, often you are alone in your thoughts and your thoughts are about being alone. I believe this was a warning shot. Thank Goodness I have Jen's love to share.

Big news, I am removing myself from the beer, I am on a low carb and healthy diet, I am learning to relax more, I have found the woman I wish to spend the rest of my life with, and I recognize that which is important.

For any pettiness on my part towards any of you, my heartfelt apologies and I will work towards a more kind view of life. I feel a if I have lived through a spiritual experience, as many of my friends know I found a good church in Second Presbyterian, in Bloomington before the incident. Life changes when you find out you almost actually cashed in your chips.


"Time it was, and what a time it was,

It was a time of innocence, a time of confidences .

Long ago, it must be, I have a photograph.

Preserve your memories; they're all that's left you..."--Paul Simon

I really appreciate the efforts of Uncle Dan and his wife my aunt Dar, My sister Karen who was with me for the procedures, Jen who was also there for everything; My beautiful neice Angela for coming down with Karen helping out and making sure I was OK; Jen's folks for checking on me; My brother Mark and his lovely wife Mary who drove 8 hours to help me set up at home, including making great meals and helping clean a house where pisspot Guinness and Chumley the slob had their run of for a week; I also appreciate my parents concern, as I am sure they were going nuts not being here, but I am fine. I also owe an incredible debt to my great coworkers and dear friends Mike McGuckin for informing eveyone and for the visits; Elston FLowers for the visits and the Heavy Metal SCI-Fi magazine; Milt McKeever for always helping with my surgical stuff and calming me down, my friend and carpool mate Sharon Jones for her kind words and prayers and calming influence; my friend Pearl for the visit and card, and my principal Jon Kilgore for rushing to the hospital to make sure I was OK that evening. If I have neglected anyone, forgive me--blame the drugs.

We are not sure as to a cause for the stroke. The hematologist is checking for a protein deficiency called Factor X (I think the X is a ten). As an example, my fiancé' Jen has Factor 5 Leyden (sp?) which means she is prone to clots. It is a genetic thing, as her father and sisters have it too.

They (the team; hematologists, cardiac doctors, neurologists, general practitioners)--I really feel as though I am living through a House episode are convinced it is some blood thing or dehydration. Originally they thought I was not taking my blood thinner (Coumadin) but that was not the case as my thinning reading should be between 2.5 and 3.5 and I was a 3.0 when brought to the hospital. This means I was therapeutic and following the Doctors' orders.

They next thought that the replacement valve was not working, but a TEE test (they stick a camera down your throat) showed the valve as functioning properly and had no obstructions; this test also possibly ruled out scar tissue build up or plaque, but the jury is still out on the scar tissue.

Dehydration and weight was/is an issue as well. I was sweating profusely when the stroke hit and my clothes were still soaking three days later. As a result of this incident, I have given up beer and alcohol completely. SELL YOUR GERMAN WHEAT BEER STOCK NOW! I have been very loose about my "one beer maximum daily" orders in the past few months, if not years. Divorce was a factor for imbibing, I assume. I also shot up to a whopping 256 pounds, when after the last heart surgery, I was 184. I am now on a low carb/healthy food/no caffeine (I did not know it dehydrates you) diet of portion control and healthy eating. If any of you want some really good beers let me know. By the by, I lost seven pounds since released fom the hospital. Thanks Mark, Mary, and Jen.

Dr. Dick the neurologist (and yes that name was killing me as you can imagine--I am such a Beavis) noted that Stress is also an issue, so my promise is to keep my humor and lose the angst at work and in life in general. I have so much to be thnkful for. I feel as if I am blessed to b a blessing.

The treatment thus far is to load me up on more blood thinner and keep working with the hematologist to find the combination of blood thinners that work best.

The reason I cannot resume work immediately (of which for the record bugs me, because I do not feel comfortable having other people do my work, even though Gene, my sub, is among my best friends and I have full confidence in the man--heck, he took me under his wing) is because I need to build my strength back and let the soft tissue around the area of the brain of the clot/stroke scar up (if that is the correct term) to prevent bleeding. I guess having a repeat incident at work in front of kids helps no one, and even traumatizes kids, let alone faculty.

If anyone randomly reading this has any insight or information, please post; it would be appreciated.

So sorry for not posting for a week or so. Anything new with you?