Having been diagnosed with a Bicuspid Aortic Valve which now needs replacing I’ve had to learn a lot of new terms and definitions. Rather than try and explain the problem and what the surgeon is going to do using big words and scientific terms I want to explain it from a mechanics point of view.
Think of the heart as a two cylinder, four stroke engine. Each cylinder has two primary valves, the intake and the exhaust. If either of these valves fails to function properly it makes the cylinder function poorly and the engine is stressed, eventually failing completely.
The exhaust valve on one of my cylinders has gone bad and is not working as efficiently as it should. My exhaust valve is sticking. This is causing a restricted blood flow to the rest of my body. Basically, I need a valve job.
The mechanic (surgeon) is going to open up my engine compartment to expose the motor so he can get to the valve. They’ll put me on something called a by-pass machine to keep my blood flowing throughout my body so I won’t be getting an oil change this time. The mechanic will then remove the bad valve and replace it with a new one, ensuring that he gets it seated properly and then put everything back into place (maybe he won’t have any parts left over). Once that’s done, they’ll have to boost me off to get my engine going again (Jumper cables are great).
Recovery will take about six months but I should be able to return to work in two or three months if everything goes as planned. The valve job will make my engine function a lot better so I’ll be feeling better too.
Monday, August 4, 2008
Sunday, March 9, 2008
Brothers (2)
My brother Phillip learned one year not to wear my clothes without asking me first. I was in high school and worked in the afternoons and on weekends to be able to pay for the clothes I wore so Mom and Dad didn’t have to pay for them. I had also bought my own truck and paid for my gas, school supplies and expenses, and whatever else I needed. I got off work one Saturday and rushed home to get ready for a date with my high school sweetie. The day before I had gone to a local clothing store and bought a couple of shirts and a pair of fancy blue jeans.
Now, these were not ordinary, everyday jeans. This pair of jeans had some decorative pockets, wide belt loops, and the back pockets were embroidered. I’d paid over twenty bucks for this pair of jeans!
Phillip had come in from somewhere with one of his buddies before I got off of work and decided to wear my jeans. Aside from wearing my jeans, the only mistake he made was coming back to the house before I’d left. I took my jeans off of him in the front yard and didn’t care that all the neighbors were watching! Mom tried to get Dad to intervene on Phillips behalf but Dad said that he needed to learn not to wear things that weren’t his.
Now, these were not ordinary, everyday jeans. This pair of jeans had some decorative pockets, wide belt loops, and the back pockets were embroidered. I’d paid over twenty bucks for this pair of jeans!
Phillip had come in from somewhere with one of his buddies before I got off of work and decided to wear my jeans. Aside from wearing my jeans, the only mistake he made was coming back to the house before I’d left. I took my jeans off of him in the front yard and didn’t care that all the neighbors were watching! Mom tried to get Dad to intervene on Phillips behalf but Dad said that he needed to learn not to wear things that weren’t his.
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
Brothers
My brothers were always causing me problems. Tom, the oldest, wasn’t too much of a problem because he’s ten years older than I am and wasn’t around too much during my formative years. The twins were another matter. Phillip and David were always jealous because I was the baby boy and in their eyes the mere fact that I was alive bothered them. I was not only better looking than either of them (and still am) but bigger. When they figured out they couldn’t whip me by themselves, they enlisted the help of the rest of the boys in the neighborhood. I learned to fight at an early age and fight to win. I didn’t care how bad I got hurt as long as the other guy was hurt worse than I was. A bloody nose and a black eye became my badges of honor and I wore them proudly.
Aside from the almost constant fighting we managed to play a couple of games as well. During the spring and summer one of our favorites was to play what we called “Deer and Dog.” For those who don’t recognize this game, it is a country version of “Hide and Seek” combined with “Chase” that we played in the woods behind our house. The “Deer” were usually given a slight head start and the “Dogs” would chase them through the woods until they were caught. Once caught, they became “Dogs” as well and the chase continued till everyone was caught. While playing this one hot summer weekend, my brother David had a pretty bad scare.
David and a family friend named Barry were the dogs. There were about a dozen guys playing as the deer. I’d found a nice briar thicket and crawled into it staying as quiet as possible to avoid being caught. David and Barry came upon the thicket from the opposite side of where I was hidden. They began to crawl through the thicket until they came upon a bobcat that was bedded up in there. The bobcat screamed, David screamed, and so did Barry! The bobcat ran one way and the boys ran the other. Barry was a big boy, bigger than me, and he created a new trail through the briar patch with David right behind him. They both ran all the way back to our house, hollering all the way. Mom came out to see what the ruckus was and all David could tell her was, “There’s a big cat Momma, a damn big cat!”
Barry looked like he had been a couple of rounds with the bobcat and lost. The briars had just about shredded his clothes and he had bloody scratches all over his exposed skin. David, who had run behind Barry, only had a couple of scratches.
Aside from the almost constant fighting we managed to play a couple of games as well. During the spring and summer one of our favorites was to play what we called “Deer and Dog.” For those who don’t recognize this game, it is a country version of “Hide and Seek” combined with “Chase” that we played in the woods behind our house. The “Deer” were usually given a slight head start and the “Dogs” would chase them through the woods until they were caught. Once caught, they became “Dogs” as well and the chase continued till everyone was caught. While playing this one hot summer weekend, my brother David had a pretty bad scare.
David and a family friend named Barry were the dogs. There were about a dozen guys playing as the deer. I’d found a nice briar thicket and crawled into it staying as quiet as possible to avoid being caught. David and Barry came upon the thicket from the opposite side of where I was hidden. They began to crawl through the thicket until they came upon a bobcat that was bedded up in there. The bobcat screamed, David screamed, and so did Barry! The bobcat ran one way and the boys ran the other. Barry was a big boy, bigger than me, and he created a new trail through the briar patch with David right behind him. They both ran all the way back to our house, hollering all the way. Mom came out to see what the ruckus was and all David could tell her was, “There’s a big cat Momma, a damn big cat!”
Barry looked like he had been a couple of rounds with the bobcat and lost. The briars had just about shredded his clothes and he had bloody scratches all over his exposed skin. David, who had run behind Barry, only had a couple of scratches.
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
Little Sisters
There have been other times when I wasn’t the one being hurt or getting cut. My little sister has been a pain in my backside since the day she was born. To begin with, I had it made until she came on the scene. I was the baby for almost seven years and I loved it. Now, I wasn’t spoiled but I was usually the center of attention! Then in the summer of 1966, Liz was born and my life took a downward spiral.
Actually it wasn’t all that bad. Liz wanted to follow me everywhere so when she was about five I told her that if she could keep up, she could come along. That girl took to the woods like a duck takes to a June bug! She would follow me and my buddies all over the place. If we tried to lose her, she’d find us. One of my friends said she was half blood hound and the other half seed tick. She’d trail us down and hang on for the ride.
We had built another swing in one of the big oaks along the creek bank that everyone loved. The rope hung just above the edge of the bank and the creek bottom was a good fifteen feet below that. The creek itself was nearly forty feet across here and you could swing almost all the way across. We had tied a loop in the rope and two people could grab on and spin round and round as they made a large circle out over the creek. It was a blast! Being kids, we didn’t think about consequences, we lived for the moment and several of those were spent on this wing.
Being the pest we all thought she was, Liz followed a bunch of us guys to the swing one day. She watched as we took turns swinging with each other out over the creek and kept begging for a turn. We finally relented and since she was my sister it became my duty to swing with her.
At twelve I was a pretty good sized boy and Liz was a gangly six year old kid. Now another thing we didn’t think much about was physics and cause and effect. With her on one side of the loop and me on the other we got a running start and flew out over the creek, spinning as we went. Centrifugal force took over and Liz lost her grip on the swing and was flung across the creek where she hit the bank and rolled down to the bottom. She looked like a rag doll laying there at the bottom of the creek.
After a couple of minutes it was obvious that she was not going to get up. I thought I’d killed her! I scooped her up and ran with her in my arms all the way back to the house. By the time I got there, she had developed two black eyes and was extremely pale. Mom and Dad rushed her to the hospital where the doctor told them that she had a concussion but no broken bones or other internal injuries although I believe it caused long lasting mental problems.
Actually it wasn’t all that bad. Liz wanted to follow me everywhere so when she was about five I told her that if she could keep up, she could come along. That girl took to the woods like a duck takes to a June bug! She would follow me and my buddies all over the place. If we tried to lose her, she’d find us. One of my friends said she was half blood hound and the other half seed tick. She’d trail us down and hang on for the ride.
We had built another swing in one of the big oaks along the creek bank that everyone loved. The rope hung just above the edge of the bank and the creek bottom was a good fifteen feet below that. The creek itself was nearly forty feet across here and you could swing almost all the way across. We had tied a loop in the rope and two people could grab on and spin round and round as they made a large circle out over the creek. It was a blast! Being kids, we didn’t think about consequences, we lived for the moment and several of those were spent on this wing.
Being the pest we all thought she was, Liz followed a bunch of us guys to the swing one day. She watched as we took turns swinging with each other out over the creek and kept begging for a turn. We finally relented and since she was my sister it became my duty to swing with her.
At twelve I was a pretty good sized boy and Liz was a gangly six year old kid. Now another thing we didn’t think much about was physics and cause and effect. With her on one side of the loop and me on the other we got a running start and flew out over the creek, spinning as we went. Centrifugal force took over and Liz lost her grip on the swing and was flung across the creek where she hit the bank and rolled down to the bottom. She looked like a rag doll laying there at the bottom of the creek.
After a couple of minutes it was obvious that she was not going to get up. I thought I’d killed her! I scooped her up and ran with her in my arms all the way back to the house. By the time I got there, she had developed two black eyes and was extremely pale. Mom and Dad rushed her to the hospital where the doctor told them that she had a concussion but no broken bones or other internal injuries although I believe it caused long lasting mental problems.
First Blood
Whenever my family gets together on holidays and other events we love to eat, play cards, and talk about growing up. One of the main topics of conversation is stitches and scars. Since I’ve had over four hundred and eighty stitches in by body (only four as a result of surgery and never more that eighteen in a single cut) over the course of my life I’m usually the topic of choice for laughs and aggravation.
First Blood
It all started in the winter of 1963, when I was four years old. My Dad had built what was called a “Flying Ginny” in our backyard. This was made by combining a seesaw with a merry-go-round and since I was the baby at the time so my seat was in the center (I got to ride all the time!).
Snow had fallen in south Arkansas that year and we had almost a foot of the stuff on the ground. Mom and Dad had all of us kids and our dog Lucky outside playing in the snow. The older kids were playing on the “Flying Ginny” and I was running over to take my seat in the middle. Lucky, being a big and playful mutt was having a good time himself and ran up behind me in the snow and knocked me down.
My forehead struck a seat on the “Flying Ginny.” I remember the snow turning red and my parents, especially Mom, trying to stop the bleeding and get me to the emergency room at the local hospital. It took two trips that day.
The first trip resulted in a couple of butterfly stitches and I even got a sucker and bubblegum from the nurse. When we got back home from the doctor’s office I went back outside to play and Lucky knocked me down a second time causing a return trip to the doctor and four stitches. I did get more gum and candy.
First Blood
It all started in the winter of 1963, when I was four years old. My Dad had built what was called a “Flying Ginny” in our backyard. This was made by combining a seesaw with a merry-go-round and since I was the baby at the time so my seat was in the center (I got to ride all the time!).
Snow had fallen in south Arkansas that year and we had almost a foot of the stuff on the ground. Mom and Dad had all of us kids and our dog Lucky outside playing in the snow. The older kids were playing on the “Flying Ginny” and I was running over to take my seat in the middle. Lucky, being a big and playful mutt was having a good time himself and ran up behind me in the snow and knocked me down.
My forehead struck a seat on the “Flying Ginny.” I remember the snow turning red and my parents, especially Mom, trying to stop the bleeding and get me to the emergency room at the local hospital. It took two trips that day.
The first trip resulted in a couple of butterfly stitches and I even got a sucker and bubblegum from the nurse. When we got back home from the doctor’s office I went back outside to play and Lucky knocked me down a second time causing a return trip to the doctor and four stitches. I did get more gum and candy.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
