Hatred, Anger & the Healing Power of Cheezies
Let’s all have a wee stroll down memory lane… the reason I’m on the warfarin in the first place is because they discovered that due to my having been in A-Fib for so long, I had several blood clots floating around my giblets. They wanted to use Cardioversion to momentarily stop my heart, then restart it – I know, I know it sounds exactly like the way they kick started Frankenstein’s monster….the major difference being on me, you can’t really see the neck bolts…. although come to think of it, I’ve always been quite scared of fire…. anyways, they hope this will shock my stupid, stupid heart into normalcy.
However, the cardioversion or massive jolt of unholy electrical misery they plan to foist upon me, will no doubt loosen and propel any one of these clots rocketing around my body, like so many microscopic serial killers. Wow, do I know how to write doom or what? – these little buggers will thusly commence to causing me to enjoy the satisfaction that only descends upon one having suffered a massive stroke. Folks make sure any debts have been paid in full before I go in…. or you are SOL…
Anyways, this breathlessness and fatigue and just about everything else that is making life monumentally sucky can be attributed to the screwed up rhythm. As you can well imagine, I am eager to have the cardioversion done for the possible relief it will deliver. Now back to the Warfarin, it’s used to break up and stop any further clots from forming so we can do this with no chance of me becoming even more like a vegetable than I already am. (Personal note; if given the choice of vegetable I am to become should the procedure go bad, I choose Rutabaga… that just cracks me up… funny word… rutabaga. God you just know he was always getting beat up after school…. Probably still a virgin too…. Rutabaga, what an idiot.)
Anyways so there is this blood value that normal people have, then there is mine…(personal note; I am eating some cheesies as I write this… they are sooo good) now imagine if a drum of 30 weight ball bearing grease, married a can of WD-40 and then the both of them married a fast-moving white water river. Now create a mental picture of the kid they would have. Good now you’re starting to get an idea of how slick my blood is… so this value, this blood reading is supposed to be at a specific number for a minimum of 4 weeks, then I’m deemed safe to get cardioverted.
Well the Heart surgeon and A-Fib clinic sent me to my doctor to have the Warfarin administered and prescriptions taken care of etc etc.. So at first there is a flurry of blood tests while we get my dose just right in the “zone”. Then he tells me Ok good to go… keep taking the same dose and you don’t need another blood test until I tell you it’s necessary. OK great because the track marks on my arms were getting difficult to explain… Plus I was going in so often, my veins started having this problem where the needle would go in and then they started “rolling” whatever that means, the needle was already in – so the nurse would have to keep moving it around to try and hit an area where blood was flowing… I don’t know I’m still fuzzy on the whole thing, but I know this – it hurt.
So I was only supposed to have taken the warfarin for 4 weeks, then the cardioversion. BUT, I say BUT… when I contacted the surgeon about coming in to get zapped they say Oh, the last blood reading we have was three weeks ago, and they had the one I took a couple of days ago. The reading from two days ago was high, but high is fine, the reading three weeks ago was high, hence my bleeding problems – but it’s good for the cardioversion – low is bad, high is good. BUT, and I say AGAIN, BUT – they said “oh no we need test results every week. Since we don’t have those, you’ll have to start your 4 weeks all over again.”
I remained calm.
Well ummm, ok look if my reading was high three weeks ago and it’s high now three weeks later, can’t we simply conclude that I’ve been high all along. Silence on the other end of the line… Ok look I said, is it possible to be taking this drug and have the numbers go down? No sir, it isn’t. OK then, well I’ve been taking the drug exactly as prescribed every day. “Well sir unfortunately we have no record of that – and what people say and what they do are often at odds…. We need proof you were taking the medication everyday and that is reflected in the weekly blood tests. What assurance do we have that you’ve been taking your medications?”
My calm was rapidly deteriorating.
Well how about the assurance that I want to stop feeling horrible every second of every minute of every day, that I want to have my cardioversion on the slim chance it will make a difference in this gigantic swamp of crud I’ve been wading thru for months. Let me ask you this, do you get many calls from people eager to stroke out on your exam table you ridiculous cow?
I’m getting worked up again just thinking about it, I’m going to take a few deep breaths and eat a cheezie……. That’s better, it’s the simple pleasures. The tell-tale soothing glint of orange covering my finger tips, signaling no doubt that orange dye no.43 is slowly killing me as well…..
Anyways the gist being despite the difficulties I’ve had with the bleeding, I need to keep taking it for another at least another 4 weeks. Before they will even schedule a cardioversion. Which I could have had two weeks ago. Both sets of doctors claimed it was a miscommunication with each other back-handedly blaming each other.
Ok I know there wasn’t much cheer in today’s post but jeeper creepers, can a fella get a break please.
I’m gonna go fill the bathtub with cheesies and eat my way out…..
Have a Great Day
PS – Yes I realize I spelled Cheezies several different ways BUT remember this – shut up.
Damn Doctors! I got pissed off at you having to wait another four weeks cause they didn’t give you direction to get tested every week, so I can only imagine how livid you are! Asshats.
PS: I love Cheezies and their fluffy, crunchy, orangey glowy goodness. I could probably survive on Cheezies alone. I have no self control with them. I could eat a Costco-size bag, relish in the tell-tale fingers, lips, and crumbs all down my shirt and I’d still want more. Cheezie crack. Chop them up into a fine powder and I’d do rails of it off a mirror.
PPS: It’s orange dye number 47, not 43.
That is exactly why you are so high up on the girlfriend sub-list… if one of my present girlfriends is unable to fulfill her duties you will be subbed-in. It’s really quite an honour… congratulations….