We began saving up the cold hard cash to afford this surgery, when Hubby began feeling badly. In February he went to see a general practitioner and was diagnosed with high blood pressure. He was put on two types of prescriptions and told to lose some weight, etc… He really did try hard to lose weight, cut out a lot of bad things from his diet, tried to get more rest, etc… But the pills he was taking wreaked havoc on his body; always tired, out of breath, weak. He developed a terrible cough and a bout with the flu. He went back to the Dr. who changed one of the medications and gave him something for the flu. The cough never subsided and the medications continued to make him miserable and to top it off his blood pressure was not improving either.

After two scary episodes (within days of each other) of him not being able to catch his breath and his chest hurting, I took off work and dragged him back to the Dr. myself! That’s when all hell broke loose! The Dr. immediately sent us to a cardiologist where Hubby was given all new medications and a nuclear stress test. Then we were sent to the emergency room where he was admitted to the hospital and given an arteriogram. Needless to say, he was a poor student and he didn’t pass any of the tests.

The very next morning he was taken into surgery where they harvested a vein from his left leg and then performed a triple heart bypass. He stayed in the ICU unit until Friday night then moved to a step-down unit for an additional 3 days. He was released from the hospital on Monday April 30^th and has been at home recovering ever since. He is on a dozen or so medications with strict rest and no stress demands.

He has been a very naughty patient; our house is way too
big and he goes up and down the stairs all the time. He fusses about the
landscaping and general repairs. I even caught him stone cold, red handed driving his car this past week! So once again, I had to play bad cop and I rented us a small two bedroom, ground level, maintenance free apartment. The house goes up for sale in 30 days and we will be moved into our new apartment by the end of this month.  

As you can imagine, this has all been very scary and upsetting. Hubby is frustrated at his recovery and is sick and tired of being sick and tired. But he continues to
improve and we hope to be settled in and enjoy some stress free living soon. Then
we get to tackle that amazing hospital bill! Weeeeeee!

Thanks to all of you who listened to my rants and raves and panic attacks. Also thank you for all of your well wishes and thoughtful cards and letters. Hubby and I appreciate all of your support and love.  Here’s to a better 2012!

I think of myself as a fairly strong-minded and strong-willed
person. I really can do anything I set my mind too, but that doesn’t mean I
actually want to. I also have my moments – glitches – if you will. Like the fact that I hate thunderstorms and some nights I sleep with a baseball bat as I am certain the house ghosts are playing freeze tag in the attic. Most days I suffer from road rage. I hate when people get in my way on my road. Pole position is my goal every day and I’m not afraid to fight for it; however, I have a glitch when it comes to reverse. In the past I have inadvertently transferred a side view mirror from its original position when exiting a garage, I have accidently scratched the wheel well when reversing too near a retaining wall and there have been miscellaneous items compacted in the driveway…

So when it came time for me to be a big girl and rent a Uhaul truck and drive it by myself, I was slightly a trembling mess. My goal was to rent the truck, drive it to a furniture store, load up my purchases, drop them off at home and return the truck all within 4 hours. I didn’t realize that when I had to pull up to the loading dock, I had to reverse the truck into position.

A burly man in (too short) shorts with a Brooklyn Mafia accent directed me to Loading Dock 6.

I wound down the window and quietly stated, “Ummm…I have
just a small issue with that.”

To which he huskily replied, “You can reverse! It’ll be fine.”  I nervously laughed.
As I am in reverse he is yelling and waving his arms,
“Look in the mirror! Just follow me! You’re doing great! A little faster!
You’ll be driving an eighteen wheeler in no time.”
As I put the truck in PARK and turn off the engine, I
lower my shoulders from my ears and breathe a sigh of relief. Just then I hear
that voice yelling, “Look in the mirror! Just follow me! You’re doing great! A
little faster!”  I open my eyes to see a single woman in a rented truck just like mine and she is reversing into Loading Dock 7 right next to me.
Burly man walks in between our trucks and I quietly say,
“You are a patient man. Thank you for that.”

To which he replies, “Lady, I’m in a twelve step program. Patience is my middle name”.

Thank you Gal Pal Val. Your last blog post gave me the slap upside my head that I needed. Although your experience was a difficult one, you shared it out loud and gave me your wisdom. I can’t thank you enough.

Hubby has been very ill lately. I, like Val, trusted that my husband was seeing his doctor regularly and telling him all of the issues he was having. I trusted that he was not a four year old in need of Mommy to talk in his place. I assumed he had it handled and that his doctor was caring for him in the best ways possible. However, as husbands often do, they protect us from worry and concern. They don’t want to appear weak or not in control.

Val’s blog post made me see the light and I demanded a visit with Hubby and his doctor. I piped up when questions were asked about his health, symptoms and medications. The doctor heard me and we are now on a new journey with a Cardiologist. I went to that appointment as well. I told the new doctor about the medications and the symptoms. I called the previous doctor and requested all lab work, blood tests and medications to be forwarded to the Cardiologist. I wanted her to see for herself what Hubby has been dealing with for the past three months.

I want him to have the best care possible. I don’t want us both to be afraid and sleep with one eye open anymore. Maybe I am being too melodramatic. Maybe that’s why husbands don’t want us wives to speak for them. But if my melodrama gets him the help he needs and the correct care to keep him around for the 50 years he promised me, then I will be loud and dramatic and bossy and anything else I need to be.

Thank you Val for empowering me. I know my situation is not the same as your situation. But your words were enough to teach me a lesson.

When Hubby hugged me tight last night and said “Thank you for coming with me
today”, I just knew things are going to improve and we will all be smarter for
it.

It is HIGH time we downsized to something more manageable. As empty nesters, Hubby and I just do not need three levels of dust, cobwebs and A/C expense.

So, anal bretentive Kimmer has begun the overwhelming task of getting this house in shape for strangers to snoop around in basically at any time of the day or night. My intentions were good, I assure you, but things have gotten out of hand. The
house now looks ten times worse than it did before I began this venture. According to “proper staging techniques” LESS IS MORE! And the more baseboards a potential buyer can see, the better. Right now, I have no baseboards or corners or empty walls…

A few months back, my brother came to visit and as he was touring the house for the first time, he said, “Man, you got a lot of shit on the walls.” At first, I thought
that was an offensive thing to say, but now…I really do have a lot of shit on the walls. Where in the hell did I accumulate all of this artwork? And knick-knacks? What is some of this stuff? I told daughter Sari to come over and go “shopping” through the piles now taking over the dining room. Do you know she only took three lousy things? And one of them was hers to begin with! She actually said her tiny house could not afford extra clutter. Clutter?

Ok, Ok…it’s true I have shit and clutter. I do. And it is taking me every night after work and every weekend to corral this crap and move it out. Someone remind me…daily…no more decorative throw pillows!

Can anyone say Tag Sale?

Now that I have retraced my steps, I am at work and realize I left the cell phone in the family room, on the end table, next to the ceiling fan remote. Well, at least it’s not in the microwave.

According to the Art of Zen, you can start your day over as many times as you need to.

Life is good. Hope you are having a good day too.