Doctor Meetings
“Do you know the enemy?
Do you know your enemy?
Well, gotta know the enemy whah-hey…”
--Green Day
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 .
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.
posted by Eric Sweetwood at 9:55 PM
3 Comments:
Every journey begins with a single step. That, to me, is easy. The harder part is to take Step 2, Step 3, Step 4, and every step thereafter until the journey is over. Most people quit...because that's what is expected by our society. Real winners find reasons to keep going; real winners find ways to get up and keep battling; real winners do not know the meaning of the word "No!" Yes, you can!
Whoa Eric,
I hadn't visited your site for about a month and look what I find out.
Looks like you got the best of care and bless Uncle Dan for taking over and insisting on medical help right away.
Dr. Dick is a fantastic neuro doctor. His partner is Dr. Peg and he is great too. You could probably make all sorts of jokes out of those two names.
Any rate, take care and if I can do anything, let me know.
I am right here in town.
Lou
Hey Sweetwood. It sounds like things are looking up. It kinda sucks that you can't do any strenuous activities for another few weeks, but at least you can drive again. I agree with Coach Pete. Keep battling, and I'll see you next year. Ohh, and I hope you liked my old man card that I gave to Burnett to give to you. I thought you'd get a laugh out of it. I heard Hips Don't Lie the other day on my way to school and about cried, because everytime I hear that song I think of you now, and I couldn't go up to you and say something about it when I got there. Take care of yourself, Old Man. Love ya Sweetwood.
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