Saturday, October 21, 2006

Jokuretics

I'm sure that the gentlemen who invented diuretics are laughing in their sleep! I don't doubt the health benefits of taking diuretics for patients like myself across the world, but the number of times that I have to go to the toilet, and the time I spend in there, is absolutely amazing! I'm visiting the toilet about every thirty minutes. I'm glad that there is no-one here to laugh at me and this comical scene!

Note - the diuretics I am using were invented by Baer, Bayer, Sprague and Novello. While they didn't win any comedy awards for their discovery, they did receive the Lasker in 1975 (generally a precursor to the Nobel prize!).

America bashing

My grad student friend in the States emailed me this morning - it's nice to hear from her. She did point out that my vitriol over Americans and prescription meds was a bit harsh. To any Americans reading it, please don't be too offended, it was meant to be tongue in cheek. Having said all of that, I recently watched SuperSize Me for the first time last week, and was both amazed and scared. I didn't realise that there were so many big Ms, so densely packed within cities. And while Spurlock doesn't surprise me with his "eat macs all day for a month and I'll get supremely sick" lesson, I have to say there is nothing better than a bacon and egg Mcmuffin after a big night out!

For anyone interested, do check out the top 300 prescription drugs in the US, and the quantity prescribed in 2005. Thanks to C for the link!

In the meantime, it's time for lunch and I think i'll have some big "M", some of Mum's big serving of food!

Supporting hands

Today it's sunny and bright, which lifts my spirits somewhat. I feel confident enough to apply pressure on my right leg and almost walk properly. I'm walking up and down the house to exercise.

Mum and dad have been awesome. Mum calls again this morning, and tells me I better not eat too much otherwise i'll get fat because i'm not exercising. I laugh at the irony - if she didn't give me so much food then I wouldn't be getting fat!

My brother calls this morning to see how i'm doing. It's so nice to hear his voice - he's overseas working at the moment. I tell him that maybe my lack of atheletic endurance when I was younger was due to my faulty heart. He tells me it was just because i was fat and lazy - thanks! It will be good to see his face again soon.

Yvette has taken my present condition into consideration, and changed out of the sexy french maid outfit and into a clown outfit! Her first joke for the day, "If you are walking up and down anyway, why don't you go get me some soy sauce, a small bowl and some chopsticks?" Looks like my days of receiving sympathy are over for now - I think i'll start calling her Krusty!

She leaves me a list of things I can and can't do. The list of cans is not so big - blog, eat, sleep, carry phone at all times, eat, sleep. That's about it. Personally I think there is a conspiracy to get me fat!!

I've received lots of emails and blog comments from friends from everywhere - thanks to all of you for your support!

While the sun is still out I think i'll go for a walk around the house.

Friday, October 20, 2006

Love is in the air, or is it?


I have been inundated with rumours, and they intrigue me. Ok I am a stickybeak!! haha So the rumour goes that a certain doctor in Scotland has recently (or maybe not so recently???) been spending a lot of time talking with a certain HR professional in England. Given the state of my prostate, I think there are some big bets being placed on the next set of grandchildren coming from the UK......

Mum is the greatest!


My mum just came around to check on me and see if I was ok, considering i'm all alone with Yvette at work. She's so sweet! She also cooked some food for me - well a feast actually! She cooked soup, and cottage pie, and pork buns and sweetcorn. Photos don't do the food any justice! All so yummy, and all for me - I hope that Yvette is not expecting any food when she gets home tonight! It's amazing how much food mum thinks just one of me can eat, but I'm always up for a challenge! :o)

It's nice to have a long chat with mum over a cup of green tea, she's a bit freaked out about the whole heart surgery thing. Luckily she was a nurse, so she understands most of what is going on.

At the end of the visit, mum proceeds to wash the dishes despite my futile protests! Ok, now you know that you have hit the lowest depths of despair when your mother comes around to your house and starts washing your dishes! I guess I can't complain though - it'll look like i've done the dishes when Yvette comes home after work tonight!

I shouldn't look...... I shouldn't look....... DAMN I looked!


The cardiologist advised me that given my medical background that I should not look up my condition on the internet or text books. He said that it would just make things worse, and no matter what information I found that nothing can replace 15 years of experience. Hard to argue with that!

But now I am surfing the net, and the irresistable urge to look it up hits me! Surely looking just a little bit won't hurt??

Life is full of regrets, and now I have another one to add to my list! I now know what can happen if the angioseal plug is displaced from my groin, and it is not pleasant! Also, it sounds easier to happen than I had imagined! Now I understand why sexual activity is prohibited after the surgery. I'm glad I'm taking it easy at home, but I'm thinking that I should just stay in bed all day......

Note: I found the great cartoon in Cambridge on an adventure earlier this year - the artist is an amazingly nice lady from South America trying to make a living in the UK - check her awesome stuff out at www.grafiler.net

It really is that close!


Found a photo showing where the angioseal self suturing plug is inserted into my femoral artery and stopping me from bleeding to death. Note the proximity to the Crown Jewels!

Alone in the dark

The moment I have been dreading. Yvette has gone back to work today. I'm all alone.

She has left some bowls and plates at a reachable height for me, and turned the tv on (the button is near the floor). I'm all showered and dressed - although when she was putting the steriplast on my wound she notices how hairy my legs are. Now I'm scared that when I fall asleep next that she will shave them!! That would just sum up my pitiful existence at the moment! haha

What am I going to do? Ordinarily on a day like this I would probably visit Mrs Palmer, but given my present situation that's probably not such a good idea! I guess i'll just surf the net.......

A kick in the guts


Wake up this morning to the sound of loud trucks dropping gravel on the street - its only 8am! The gas company are installing gas pipes outside my house - looks like we'll be getting gas hot water soon! Yvette will never be able to use up all of the hot water on me again!! My groin still hurts, although less than yesterday. I'm told to rest for 72 hours after the surgery, so I guess i'll be staying at home again today.

Check my email, and receive a kick in the guts. A big kick in the guts. A massive kick in the guts. I'd sent out a scientific manuscript to be reviewed by one of the top journals in the field, and this was their response:

"In this case, although we are in no way questioning the validity of your work or its interest to others in the field, I am afraid we are not persuaded that these results represent a sufficient conceptual advance over earlier work to justify publication in our Journal rather than a more specialized journal."

One word. Devastated. The culmination of more than two years of hard work, sweat and tears, and I'm basically told that it's not good enough. I want to hit something. Hard.

Some minutes later, and thankful that I haven't over-exerted myself and popped the stitch, I decide that i should write an email to the editor. Something along the lines of: "Frack it - i've just found out I need major heart surgery - so you should bloody well publish my manuscript!!"

Cooler heads prevail, and I resolve to write a nice polite email to ask the editor to reconsider their decision. I'm still trying to figure out how to get my heart surgery in there somehow - might as well play the sympathy card as much as I can!

Thursday, October 19, 2006

Idiot products for idiot people


Choice magazine, an Australian consumer's guide to products, has just held their Shonky Awards for the year.

At number 3: Oxygen4Life Oxygen Therapy in a bottle
Ten millilitres a day of the product's "bio-available oxygen" purportedly "enhanced quality of life".
Choice added: "Or you could breathe - which is widely regarded as the best way to take in oxygen."
The product cost $55 for a 250 millilitre bottle of de-ionised water, Atlantic sea salt and bio-available oxygen.
Hosting the Awards, Roy (of Roy and HG fame) said he felt "enhanced just holding [the bottle]".

Number 4: Seagers Gin and Tonic with a twist of lemon
Sounds quite good, except there is no gin in the ready-to-drink can. There is vodka though, which kind of makes up for the lack of gin, except for the fact there is no quinine [which makes tonic water "tonic"] or lime either.
H.G. said: "So it's a fantastic product. If you are into binge drinking, this is the one for you."

And, *drumroll* number 1: Life Miracle's Magnetic Laundry System
Features two magnetic balls that you put in your washing machine instead of detergent. They cost $80.
Choice said: "Washing with balls and plain water had about the same cleaning effect as washing in plain water alone. Why you'd want to add $80 worth of magnetic balls is one of life's true miracles."

The worst thing - these will all probably sell better than this blog!

Completely demeaned

I thought that I had made my last post for the night, but my life seems a litany of disasters at the moment! Took off the plastiseal covering my stitch, folded it up and left it on the basin (i can't reach the rubbish bin). Had my shower, got out, brushed my teeth and walked out. As I was walking, I noticed something on the bottom of my foot - I look on the basin, the plastiseal is not there! The lightglobe goes on in my brain - oh dear. I can't bend over to take it off, so I have to go out and ask Yvette to remove it for me. She is rather grossed out. Me? I'm just plain embarassed. And laughing at the same time!

Totally addicted to blog!

Ok it is official. I am totally addicted to blog! I have spent the whole day looking at my blog, looking at other blogs, trying to improve my blog (webcounter etc), making new posts on the blog. It is totally and completely consuming my life! But to my relief, an entire day has gone by and I haven't really thought much about the pains in my body, or the impending shadow of heart surgery looming over me.

So what have I learnt today other than I am a blogophile. I've learnt that eating too much food is not a great idea when there is a stitch in your groin - because your stomach starts to expand and it really hurts! I've learnt that there is an actor on Rafferty's Rules (an old 80s tv show) that looks a lot like Eric Bana. That tv sucks between 4pm and 8.30pm. Despite attempting almost any kama sutra position conceivable that there is no comfortable position to sit or lie that doesn't hurt. That Paul hit Heather, and Heather wants half his money. That I really badly need to get out of this house!

HIghlights of the day - new webcounter, a new nikkor 18-200mm lens (sweet - thanks Mark!) but it won't be here till X'mas, and that I tricked my completely innocent and sweet friend into reading this nasty and lewd blog! haha

Dixit to fix it

Just got a phonecall. I'm meeting the surgeon on Thursday at 9am. His name is Mr Dixit. There's no stuffing around here, admitted to hospital on Monday, meet the surgeon a week later... I'm not sure if it's a good sign that they are rushing me through - is it because my heart condition is serious, or because they all like my smile?

Haven't heard from the handsome cardiologist, so I call to make an appointment to chat with him. He's away until Tuesday, I guess he's gone on a sailing holiday.

I'm coming up with a list of questions to ask the cardiologist and surgeon. They range from what are my chances of survival, to how big will the scar be? Will there be long term consequences - will I need to take drugs for the rest of my life? What are my chances of being an athelete afterwards? I have dreams of utilising my big atheletic heart to compete against my athelete friends, and beating them!

It's good to know that in a week's time I'll know what's going on, but the waiting is killing me. And my groin hurts from laughing - I nearly fell over when I heard the surgeon's name.

New counter

The most exciting thing for the day, aside from Queer Eye? I got a new counter for my blog! And it's so cool - go and check it out! And thanks to C'est la vie I found it on her blogsite :o)

Panic!

Oh NO!! A major disaster just happened! The tv doesn't have any sound! Nothing seems to work, there is no sound coming out at all? I call Yvette over to fix it. She looks hot in a maid outfit - but I don't rate her skills with electrical stuff!

Time passes by and I worry that I am going to miss Queer Eye - i've been looking forward to it all day, it's my highlight for the day. Sums up my sad state of affairs really....

Everything is turned off at the powerpoint, and restarted. Still no sound.... I am starting to panic - like really panic!

Finally Yvette saves my bacon again - *someone* has pushed the speaker button, and turned all of the speakers off. With great relief, I can sit back now and watch the Q team in action. Hooray!

Note - yes I am posting a lot on this blog at the moment - but given my debilitating disability (groin pain), and the fear that I might open my femoral artery at any moment, it's all I have in my life right now! Amazingly, it's making me feel much better about things too!

Life with meds


I've always laughed at Americans and their medications. They seem to be a country addicted to meds! They have drugs for everything - I mean hello, a drug that you can take that makes you lose weight, and you don't have to exercise, change your diet or anything else in your life??? Its on par with the belt that you wear around your stomach that sends electrical pulses to the muscles so that you lose weight while you sit on your fat arse watching tv and eating popcorn!!

And the television ads for drugs in America - you seriously wouldn't know they were for drugs. Scenes of beautiful people prancing through fields of green grass filled with daisys. If this is how you want your life to be, all you need is to take this drug.......

America talks about illicit drugs being a global epidemic, when really it's their addiction to prescription drugs that is really scary.

Rather ironically, after my rant and rave, I find myself living the American prescription drug dream. While I only have a small collection so far, i'm sure that this will increase......

Craving normality II

Just had a shower, and now I have found the one thing that I really miss - I can't put on my own underwear or pants!! How utterly embarassing!! Up goes the left hand, Yvette had better help me!

I'm completely demoralised, how useless can one man feel? Surely things can't get any lower??

Oh yes they can! The diuretics kick in and i'm off to the toilet. I hope that my underwear doesn't fall to my ankles............

Craving normality

It's funny, but you only notice the basic essentials when they are all ripped away from you. I've been unable to find a comfortable position sitting or lying down, every attempt seems to produce some strain on my groin. It's getting frustrating, until I realise that if I stand up and balance on my left leg that I am surprisingly comfortable.

I have enjoyed my new invalid status however, in that I am receiving top notch french maid care - just raise my right hand for food and drink, my left for anything else and in a flash my needs are seen to. Last night's blog entries and emails were all entered by me dictating, and Yvette (my French maid) typing them in! ha ha

Today I have managed to pick up my laptop (bending over of any sort is a major problem right now) and placed it on top of the tv - I have found this the perfect height for me to type on it while I am standing up. I've just read over last night's blog entries and realised that Yvette had been editing as I dictated - so that it's not quite written the way that I had intended! I am going to have firm words with her this morning!

My body feels woozy, and my head dizzy. This is probably the two blood pressure tablets talking inside me, I crave for a return to normality. This feeling sucks!

The Aftermath

Back in the ward, I’m monitored every 15 minutes. Blood pressure, heart rate, pulse in my foot, gaping hole in my groin. My leg is a bit numb and feels cold to touch but I’m sure this will pass. Alarmingly, the nurse is recording my heartrate at a 150 beats per minute. Normally its 75. My heartrate is increasing – 155, 158, 165 – over the next hour. My mom is panicking. And so am I. Is my heart going to explode?! The nurse doesn’t seem worried and this scares me more. My heart is about to burst, what the hell is wrong with this nurse? A student nurse comes to take my pulse manually. I’m not sure if it’s because she can’t work the machine. My phobia of med students applies to nursing students too, I realise. She measures my pulse – 80 beats per minute. Now I’m confused. She looks confused too. Am I dying, or not? Turns out the machine is broken and my heartbeat has been normal all this time. This sure isn’t a good way to treat a faulty heart. I don’t think I can take much more of this.

The girls are laughing because I'm checking my groin every couple of minutes. Why can't they understand my obsession??!! I'm desperately seeking any signs of life from my absurdly shrunken friend.

Five hours later, and I’m allowed to go home. I can’t wait. I get up gingerly off the bed and walk to the hospital entrance. I realise that my groin has other functions - it sure is important for walking. And before I know it, I’m home again. All I have to do now is wait for the cardiologist to call, and then meet with him and the surgeon to discuss major bypass surgery. This blog has a long way to go.

Coronary Angiogram

I waken in a groggy state to see my handsome cardiologist. He tells me that its time for the angiogram. Floating in wonderland, I don’t feel the catheter inserted into my groin. He warns me though, that I will feel a warm flush. Next thing I know, my brain feels warm but this quickly passes. I’m suddenly shocked by a warm sensation passing through my testicles. Feels like the start of an orgasm. I hope there’s no mess.

On the screen, I can see my arteries filling with dye. I’m no expert but they sure don’t look blocked to me. Woo hoo!! And then its over, and I’m rolled back to the ward.

Transoesophageal Echocardiogram

A camera probe was shoved into my mouth, down my throat and into my stomach to look at my mitral valve. How did it feel? No idea, thanks to the joys of general anaesthetics. All I remember is a cold chill running up my right arm, and then nothing.

Wednesday, October 18, 2006

My penis, my penis, my kingdom for my penis!

A coronary angiogram sounds rather straightforward. Insert a cathether into the femoral artery, a major artery in your body, and inject dye so that blockages in the artery can be detected. Sounds gruesome, but pretty routine. The booklet they gave me describes quite clearly the potential side effects of this surgery. Bleeding to death, infection, blood clotting and other nasty things. But there's one thing they omit from this information booklet that needs to be explained to any man undergoing this surgery.

Upon entering the hospital, I was taken into the day ward and given a bed. After changing into a gown (light green with a floral pattern), I was informed a male nurse was coming to shave my groin region. What the hell??!! No one told me about this, it's supposed to go into my damn thigh!! Some minutes later, he arrived and proceeded to shave off one half of my pubic hair. I wondered if this had suddenly made me half gay. And then it dawned on me that this surgery was going to be very very close to my best friend. And I began to panic. I was terrified that anything affecting blood flow in that region could have a permanent effect upon my manhood and my legendary sexual prowess. What the hell had I gotten myself into?

Post surgery note - I'm advised not to undertake sexual activity for several days. Judging by the current state of my penis, and the intense pain in my groin area, I'm beginning to think that I will never have sex again. Oh God NO!!!!! Is this going to be a Shakespearean tragedy??

Hi Ho Hi Ho it's off to hospital I go.......

I awaken from an uneasy sleep to the sound of three alarms blaring - I guess i'm not sleeping through the surgery today.

I'm showered, trimmed down under and debating which perfume to wear - I have to be at my best for these nurses after all. I've found some underwear with no holes, and given them a quick iron. I've managed to find a small bottle of mouthwash that I have stolen from a hotel on a previous adventure, giving me a nice fresh breath.

I didn't dream last night, but I remember talking to my girlfriend's sister before going to sleep, and she was enthusiasticaly demanding to be the one to take naked portraits of me before the surgery! I think the lack of blood to my brain from my faulty heart is beginning to make me delusional.

I now understand the term knots in my stomach, food would probably help this. Unfortunately I have to fast before the surgery. Being denied food is like depriving a bear of honey, it's just not fair!

It's funny, i'm not worried about the procedures today. The only thing i'm worried about is the pain. I have a LOW pain tolerance. Yes I am probably the world's biggest wuss!

Well I guess it's time to go. I'm looking forward to today, it will be reassuring to know exactly what is wrong with my heart, and when we can fix it. Just shuddering thinking about the pain though. I'm going to ask for a general anaesthetic, I hope they give it to me!

Tuesday, October 17, 2006

Doubts creep in

The end of the day, and I think its starting to sink in. This is serious stuff, and maybe I haven't been taking it serious enough?? Will the surgery go ok? What are the chances of complications? Will I need medication for the rest of my life? Will it happen again?

And then it hits me - I am going to have a scar the length of my chest, how the hell am I ever going to go topless at a beach and pick up chicks?? Now this worries me greatly, so I decide that I am going to lie topless on a beautiful beach drenched in warm sunlight before the surgery happens. And I am going to get a professional photographer to take a topless portrait of me and my single chest hair, to capture forever in time the image of my perfect chest. I think of doing this on the cheap by asking my photographer friend at work, but I think she'd barf at the thought!

Just another day at work

Back at work and everyone is asking how I am - it makes me feel like I am diseased or something. I say hello to everyone, check some emails and try and lose myself in work. And it would have been successful, except that I had to keep running to the toilet - damn you diuretics!! Five times in two hours, that has got to be a world record! It's coming out clear as day, I might as well just pour the water down the toilet and save myself the trouble!

I've been feeling dizzy since I got to work, and I wonder whether its real, or just the paranoia getting to me. It's not everyday you learn that your heart is not working properly, and I'm starting to see boogey monsters behind every corner.

I've been at work for three hours, and I have had enough emails and phonecalls to last me a year. Funnily enough, after telling my story to the 20th person i'm starting to believe what i'm telling them, that it ain't too serious. If only that were true.

The tearoom is full of life, its nice to see friendly faces. I don't want to sound sombre, so I joke that I won't be able to get fat after the surgery or the scar will go jagged! I'm told to get a tattoo, and you know that's not such a bad idea!

Four hours and i'm done. Another hard day at work! Actually the dizziness is worrying me.

The morning after

A sleepless night..... thoughts filled with doubts and worries.

Early in the morning and it backs to Cardiac Central for pre-surgery consultation. The nurse gives me another ECG, and then draws three vials of blood from me. I'm weighed, 76kg - minus two for clothes. Measured, 177cm, i've shrunk 3cm!!

The nurse explains the coronary angiogram and transoesophageal echocardiogram - they are not sounding good. In fact, they scare the daylights out of me!

Coronary angiogram - a catheter is inserted into the femoral artery near my groin, and dye is injected into my heart so that they can see if there are any narrowings/blockages in the arteries. I wince everytime I think of this, this is not taking blood, this is a bloody massive needle being inserted into my major artery!! Complications - blood clotting, bleeding to death, fainting when they put the needle into me........

Transoesophageal echocardiogram - a camera is inserted down my throat into the heart to look at the mitral valve up close. The information sheet says that they will let me go home after my gag reflex returns - I am gagging now just thinking about it.

The time is set, I'm coming in at 9.30am and should be going home at the end of the day. I'm sent home to ponder upon tomorrow, so where do I head to - work!!

The verdict

drum roll.......

The cardiologist is straight to the point. You've got a faulty mitral valve in the left ventricle, its not closing properly. He shows me the echo on the screen and it doesn't take a rocket scientist to see what he is talking about. Two semi-circular flaps are opening and closing upon each other - but one looks a bit floppy and isn't completely closing. You can see the blood flowing back into the ventricle when it is supposed to be closed, causing the whoosh/murmur everyone has been listening to.

Is it genetic I ask? Is it because I am a fat lazy bastard? Bad luck he says, just pure bad luck. It either has always been there, or I have always had a propensity to develop it. Knowing that being lazy hasn't caused this, nor my diet of fried chicken and alcohol makes me relieved for some reason.

Up until now everything has been a blur - this doesn't make much sense since I have spent five hours lying on my arse on a bed with nothing to do but think about it. Lucky for the guys who kept me company all day - thanks guys I love you!

The cardiologist makes some notes on my echo into his dictogram, and then we're off to his office to discuss. He's not one to play games - we're going to have to repair the valve, and its major bypass surgery. Ok now i am TOTALLY freaked!!

He keeps talking but i'm not really listening. He says that I should be ok to keep doing everything that I am doing now - eat the same food, breathe the same air, just don't exert too much. There goes the sex!! Or maybe i'll just take it lying down! haha He prescribes some meds for me, blood pressure tablets to take some pressure off my heart and diuretics to help drain some fluid off my lungs and then we're off to reception to book in for a cardiogram and oesophageal echocardiogram to carefully examine my heart as preparation for the surgery.

At reception the doctor organises the procedures - he is not mucking around. I'm booked in for Wednesday, two days from now!

So here I am, 29 years old and my life passing before my eyes..... open heart surgery - SHIT!! I've got a feeling that this is going to be one hell of a rollercoaster ride........

29 and my life passing before my eyes..... Part III

Another hospital..... new nurses......new doctor.......no idea what is wrong with me

Its amazing how much difference a smile and a laugh from the nurses can ease your troubled mind, well for a little while anyway. This hopsital feels so much more comfortable that the last.

Hooked up to the heart monitor, waiting for the doctor. Waiting, waiting, waiting........ It's amazing how slow time can pass, every minute really does seem an hour. A nurse drops in periodically to check on me and to let me know the cardiologist will be down soon.

An hour passes, and then some more, before a nurse and two orderlies come in and tell me i'm being moved to the Cath lab to see the cardiologist. The sides of the bed are pulled up, the heart monitor attached to the side, helmut on and we're ready to go........ expecting to be sped down the hallway at lightning speed. Yeah right! Lying prone on your back while being pushed through narrow corridors is a rather weird feeling, light fittings on the ceiling flashing past and sounds all around - surprisingly disorientating stuff!

Arrive at the Cath lab, the nurse ducks off to find the doctor, and returns to sheepishly tell me that we're in the wrong place, and off we go to Cardiac Central (the name made me chuckle for some reason).

At Cardiac Central, its like a ghost town. An older lady in a suit directs us to a room, where i'm transferred to a different bed and asked to lie on my side. The nurse that accompanied me asks where the nurse is to handover, and is abruptly told that there ain't no nurses in the ward. Has everyone in Cardiac Central had a heart attack and passed on?? A quick phonecall and the nurse is staying to keep me company, funnily enough I find this reassuring. I'm waiting for an echo to be performed - kinda like an ultrasound to look at my heart.

After 5 hours, two hospitals and four ambulance crews, the cardiologist arrives. He's wearing a blue jumpsuit which makes him look comical. Handsome looking guy, i think my friend Liesel would drool over him. He listens to my heart with his stethescope, and confirms that I have a fantastic murmur...... so far so good.

He lubes up the echo probe and pushes it against my chest - on the screen via the magic of modern science we are able to see my heart beating - damn strongly I might add! Watching your own heart beat is absolutely fascinating, but rather morbid at the same time - i can't take my eyes off the screen though. He turns the volume up and THE murmur fills the room. It sounds like a whoosh and a gurgle, kind of like that last bit of water draining out of a sink.

End of Part III

Next - the verdict

29 and my life passing before my eyes.... Part II

Inside the emergency ward, I was wheeled into a space, separated from other patients by a wall of curtains. The ambos transferred me to the hospital bed, and then bid me goodbye. They were nice guys, and I hope they had a good day.

The nurses stuck a couple more sticky electrodes to my chest, and hooked me up to the EKG to monitor my heart. They notices my irregular inverted wave, and checked to make sure that they had the electrodes connected properly.

And then it came - the request to collect some blood............... words cannot describe the horror that comes to my mind when I am asked to provide blood. I let the white-haired nurse (who are my favourites under these conditions - you'll understand why when you have had a 20 year old nurse try to draw your blood unsuccessfully three or four times!) swab my arm down, and I let her know that my vein was fairly hard to find. She sighed, and said that she hated hard to find veins - the way she said it didn't inspire any confidence at all in her abilities.

OW!!! She bluffed me - note to self, never doubt the white-haired nurse ever again. While putting doubt into my mind about her abilties she had sneakily impaled my vein upon a massive needle! The feeling of a tube of metal one inch long inside a vein is one of the most unpleasant feelings on earth, beaten only by the blood being drawn out of your body and into a plastic tube......

A mid-thirties doctor entered some minutes later. The nurse pointed out the irregular inverted wave (yeah it was still worrying me) and the doc pulled out her stethescope and listened to my heart. Wow - that's some heart murmur you have, she exclaimed. What murmur?? She called over the nurse, who had a listen, and next thing I knew the two other nurses in the nurse station opposite my cubicle had checked out my impressive murmur. The doc even suggested that I should be a case study for the medical students!!

Warning to all members of the public - DO NOT, I repeat DO NOT ever allow a med student to examine you!!! Seeing them during their formative studying years has not in any way, shape or form made me want one of them looking at me, even on my death bed!

Next came the x-ray, to check out my clearly abnormal heart. The radiographer rolled me to the x-ray room, and read me the riot act. You will listen to me and do exactly what I say, and do not, under any circumstances get off the bed unless I tell you to. wow - welcome to Nazi Hospital!!

Three x-rays later, I'm back in my cubicle. The lady doc comes around and says the x-rays show that I have a larger than normal heart. She has arranged for me to see the cardiologist, who will be in to see me soon.

Diversion - on the way home, my friend told my girlfriend that my large heart meant that I could love her more with it. How sweet, but CORNY! haha

Some time later...... the lady doc is back - the cardiologist can't make it, so I have to go to another hospital to see him. I'm advised that it's not a great idea to get a ride with my girlfriend to the other hospital for safety reasons, so they call an ambulance to transfer me. Twenty minutes later, and a couple of new ambos arrive to move me out, just as they introduce themselves to me and line up their bed to transfer me, their beepers go off and so do they - a pressing emergency. WHAT ABOUT ME and my HEART??!!

AN old man is bought in on a stretcher not long after, he doesn't look well. The nurses are saying he's got a tumour on his spine, I hope he's going to be ok. The up-side, ambos to take me to the new hospital. But do I want these ambos? After spending a couple of minutes unsuccessfully trying to lower their own stretcher to my level, they decided to raise my bed to the level of their stretcher. I'm gonna add this test to the ambulance training exam in future!

My fears are not helped when the ambos can't start the ambulance. I can hear the driver turn the key, but there is absolutely no sound from the engine. Finally they get it started and off we go. Not long after, the heart monitor that I am hooked up to started beeping constantly - sounds like an alarm. Am I dying? I feel ok!! How do i turn this damn thing off, ambo two asks the driver. What sound? That sound! Oh. I tried turning the alarms off, but it hasn't stopped it. Oh it't not an alarm....... finally the beeping is turned off, and after a short discussion about the two male ambos kissing each other (ok it made sense in the ambulance) we had arrived at the hospital. Another minute or two to find the swipe key to open the gate, and we had arrived.

One 20 second black out, and two hospitals later, was someone finally going to tell me what was wrong with my damn large, loads of loving heart??!!

End of Part II

Part III - the cardiologist, the echo and watching my life pass before my eyes

Monday, October 16, 2006

29 and my life passing before my eyes......Part I

Welcome to my very first blog - today I got a massive scare and I feel like sharing it with the world.

Today I was walking to work, up a mildy rising path, when I suddenly blacked out and collapsed. Lucky for me on two counts - one: I was about 3 metres in front of my work building, and two: I work in the medical school at the University!

A couple of medical students saw me drop like a sack of bricks and dashed off to get one of the lecturers.

For any of you who have ever blacked out and woken back up, it is a very surreal feeling. Its hard to describe, but you can sort of feel yourself outside of your body, telling yourself to get up. The world seems a blur, with voices and sounds echoing around you. I don't recommend knocking yourself out to experience this though!

I'm told I was out cold for 20 seconds or so, but it seems to me like a lifetime. I vaguely remember waking up, and there being people around me asking if I was ok. Someone took my pulse (good ol' med training) and rolled me on to my side to keep me conscious.

Within several minutes I was completely lucid, no chest pains or light-headedness. No dizziness or headaches.

Turned out the lecturer the students had fetched was the teacher in ambulance services (no kidding - I work on the same floor as him and didn't know this was his job - but the cherries he grows on his farm are awesome!). He asked if I wanted an ambulance to take me to the hospital to check me out. I agreed (hey I only lost consciousness, not my intelligence!).

Damage count: a grazed knee, grazed back of both hands, really sore left ribs, grazed chin and nose. And tore my shirt and $500 suit!!!!!!!

The ambulance arrived and believe it or not, the ambo had been taught by the lecturer who had helped me!! The ambos began testing me out. How do you feel, have you taken drugs or anything recently? They plugged me up to the heart monitor, and found an inverted wave - you have to start to worry when the ambulance guy goes to ask the lecturer for a second opinion! Blood sugar level - 4.4 (under 4 is a problem). Blood pressure - 110 (good).

My first ride ever in an ambulance was not so traumatic as I had imagined. Probably due to Paul the ambo. We had a long chat about my medical research into the injured brain. He declared that while my research was awesome - really the best thing to do would be to target young kids to wear bike helmets etc and prevent them from having brain injuries in the first place - he did point out that this would make my life's work rather redundant however, which we both chuckled at. And then he asked me - the question that everyone always asks.......... is drinking alcohol really bad for your brain??

To set the record straight - if you are drinking enough alcohol to pass out once or twice a week - your brain will be mush by the time that you are 29! But hey, a couple of drinks a day is not going to hurt you, in fact it is good for you! Paul the ambo and I pledged to have a few drinks that night - I figure anyone that passes out for 20 seconds deserves a few beers!

Alcohol fact two: Asians do not have the enzyme to break down alcohol - that's why we get drunk so easy! But you can build up a tolerance to alcohol over a number of years - I'm evidence of that, I can drink 4 beers to a normal Asian's two!!

I arrived at the hospital and was wheeled inside. We stopped at a door waiting to be admitted. The triage nurse met us and the ambos (I had three of them - how was that for service!) started chatting to her. They weren't talking about me though - they were talking about some germ..... not the sort of thing you want to hear upon entering a hospital!! Turns out one of the nurses was dressed in a horrid green germ outfit, with dangly things hanging off - don't ask me why on earth someone would dress in a germ outfit in a hospital - maybe it's to scare the patients out of the place - we have had a major shortage of beds in our hospitals lately after all.....

End of Part I

Part II - continues the story in the hospital (and the second hospital that they took me to)