This post is a bit self-indulgent, but I needed to write it for me (and maybe for you or someone else who reads it.)
I am seventy-one years old and have been blessed with good health. Finally, the “check engine” light came on.
Chronic joint and muscle pain have been my unwanted companions for about five months. At its worse, the hip pain kept me from being able to get in the car and unable to walk when I got out.
The shoulder pain was an aggravation of old injuries and torn rotator cuffs. I couldn’t pick up our little dog, get my shirt on, or raise my left arm. It was excruciating in the mornings and hurt in the evenings. My left arm was very weak and painful. I never had anything like it before and certainly not for that duration. It was a long, painful, aggravating stretch.
It all flared up when I started packing to move to Tennessee. As it got worse, I put off going to the doctor because we were on such a tight schedule to get moved. I planned on seeking medical attention as soon as I could.
I didn’t even make it to Tennessee. About midnight we rolled into Lafayette, Indiana. Both cars were ridiculously stuffed with last minute items that did not get on the moving truck, and we had Odie, the Terrific Terrier. This was our planned first stop, since we had to be out of the old house, but we planned on getting there several hours sooner.
I got out of the car and could just barely hobble. Odie escaped and was checking out the hotel. The world’s best night manager saw I was in pain while Patty parked both cars and brought in the stuff we needed. He chased Odie down and brought him to our room.
I woke up the next morning not being able to imagine driving all the way to eastern Tennessee. So, we stopped at an urgent care place. A prednisone pack gave me about three better days.
All in all, I have been to two urgent care centers, made six visits to a local orthopedist, had numerous cortisone shots and prednisone packs until I couldn’t get anymore because of potential side effects. Then I began physical therapy for sixteen sessions (twice a week). It took about ten sessions before I saw improvement. Now I am at about 80% – 90% which is a huge relief. I graduated physical therapy but continue to do the exercises.
Then I found out that was just chapter one of my health issues.
It was time to find a primary care doctor so I could get my prescriptions refilled. Upon the recommendation of our daughter-in-law (one of the three nurses in our family) we went to PA in Tazewell, close to home. She was wonderful, a straight talking, caring, country doctor sort. I really like her.
One of the first things medical personal do is take your blood pressure. Mine is always near perfect. The nurse took it and immediately returned with an EKG machine and asked me all of the usual questions about symptoms of heart disease. Light-headed? No. Dizzy? No. Shortness of breath? No.
She told me to take my shirt off and lie down on the examine table. Then she stuck electrodes all over my hairy self. My blood pressure systolic number was over 200. Do you have a history of high blood pressure? No. I just want my two little maintenance scripts refilled.
The PA came in and she was very concerned, “Mr. Hager your EKG is very irregular,” and she showed me the particular squiggly of concern. You need to see a cardiologist in Knoxville. We will write the referral today. To sum it up so I can understand it: My blood pressure is too high, my pulse is too low, and I have a weird EKG.
I said I feel fine! She said, “I wouldn’t be surprised if you don’t need a heart cath and a pacemaker.” I thought, I just want my prescriptions refilled. Then she said,” If you have any symptoms call 911 immediately.”
The only good thing about the visit was that she told me to stop mowing the yard and have someone else do it.
I was in shock. Wasn’t five straight months of ortho pain enough? I swore to myself. It was surreal.
I am the kind of person who feels like I need to process everything in order to move on. I realized my initial response was shock. It was a lot to take in.
My second response was sadness. The kind that can make tears well up. I want to live a full and active life. I know I am seventy-one, but, honestly, I am a slow learner and am just now getting a handle on some things and figuring out the kind of person I want to be the rest of my life. I want to learn how to love other people better. In short, I have stuff to do and people to love.
I don’t want to cause my family any burden or have to be cared for. I want to take care of them. I don’t want to leave them.
How could all of these health issues happen at the same time while we were just getting settled in a new area? I have no idea.
The process was shock, sorrow, “Sherlock Mode” (trying to figure it out), and finally settling down.
That’s me. I need a little time to process things and wallow around in the worst-case scenario.
Right after this I talked to a dear friend who has been on a pacemaker for decades and has lived a wonderful life.
Today I chatted with another person, a contractor that is fixing up our little buildings. He has been electrocuted and suffered several heart attacks. Ironically, he is doing the electrical work.
It takes a good while to get in to see the cardiologist. I have been waiting fifteen days so far. I don’t know what the future holds. But my worry factor went way down.
I think there are some lessons for me to learn.
- Many people have worse things to deal with. Now I can be a little more empathetic.
- Many people have faced similar issues and have continued to have a full life.
- Live each day big. Dive into it. Relax. Find the blessing. Be the blessing.
- Live each day small, too. Don’t miss anything. There are so many blessings and opportunities.
- If you know Jesus, you are in a win-win situation.This could be something kind of big or not so big. It feels surreal because
- I feel fine and can do almost anything, but mow the yard, and it has been so hot I wasn’t enjoying that too much.
Waiting. Not worrying. Keeping the faith. Focusing on others. Nurturing peace, the kind that God gives. It’s a challenge, but doable.
I’m okay.
Thank you for the prayers and for indulging me.
