Friday, December 30, 2005

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Up Early

I 've been up since a little after 5 am. - couldn't sleep anymore. it's about time for some more Aleve, it's the only thing that seems to work on this pain.

This pain in my chst comes from the CPR I recieved in the hospital after a morphene overdose' About a week ago I had gon to the emergency room with extreme back pain. They gave some pain killers but, they didn't seem to help. then they gave some morphene - I've had it before without any problems. Since my kidneys don't work and I had no exchanges during this time, my body can't rid itself of this stuff.

When they gave me a second dose of the morphene 4 hours later I quite literaly died in my wife's arms. She was there holding me and she said I fell over into her arms and was as stiff as a board. My breathing and heart had stopped. She told the nurse something was wrong. They called a code blue and a team worked to revive me.

They took Sue out of the room and brought a priest in to sit with her. After a while, the doctor came and told her it was a reaction to the morphene and they had given me something to counteract the morphene. They told her I was responding to the drug ans was coming around.

I was literaly dead for about 3 minutes. In doing the CPR they broke/cracked some ribs, thus the pain in my chest. They said it might take 3 months to get over it. It hurts just to breath deeply and mt ribs make a clicking sound every time I do. It's getting better with time but, it still hurts.

I want to say my Uncle got me started in this blogging thing. He has a great blog with his photography info and his pulp fiction stories. Be sure to check him out at: http://mysteryscribe.blogspot.com/ I think you'll enjoy his blog. He host a photo challenge which I and others submit our photos. It's been a lot of fun.

I will post more photos when I can get upstairs and on my main computer. right now I'm on the laptop in the kitchen.

By the way Sue is feeling a little better but, still has a terrible cold/flu. More tea and chicken soup for her!

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5 Comments:

At 8:22 AM, Blogger mysteryscribe said...

I don't know if you are reading these comments or not but I wanted to say something about dying that I would just as soon not be on the blog. This can be upsetting for some folks but I think you and I can understand it. At least I hope this isn't offensive to you.

Im not sure where I learned this, maybe it was the attitude of young men always knowing death is a piece of paper and an airplane flight away, less than ten miles away in me case, once at least.

Or maybe it was when I was twenty five and they told me I might have a brain tumor/ They just didn't know why things didn't seem just right in the way I moved. While they were tapping my spine and generally causing me great pain. The woman in the room next to me was under a death sentance for hodkins lymphoma in the sixties it was not curable.

She showed such great courage and dignity it shamed me for even being there. No matter whatelse her life was about it was an inspiration to me.

It could have been before they opened my skull in 1985. Before they went in they had no idea what type tumor it was, only that they would not be able to get it all out. If it had been malignant I was a goner. It wasn't of course but they didn't know that for a while. They did some damage that never properly righted itself.

It could have been when I had my second heart attack, the one I got treated for. That time they told my family I might not live more than a week. It is seven years later and my cardiologist was shocked two years ago that I was still alive. He would be amazed now since I haven't taken a drug in over two years.

The reason is simple the brain tumor is back with a vengence. I live with an ever increase number and severity of problems. There are three main ones. My visioni s crap, my cognative abilities go down hill a little at a time, but worst of all is my motor skils.

The wretched little thing is pressing on at least two areas of my brain. One being the old part and one being some top lobe. In other workds they also told me a matter of weeks. That was about two years ago.

So getting ready to die seems to have been a lifelong project with me. The first thing I learned is that Im damn hard to kill. The second is that it doesn't matter when or from what one dies. I am afraid I believe that dead is dead. It only matters to me that I live right up till the moment I don't live any more.

I may go out screaming or crying or even begging that just doesn't matter. What matters is that I live my life as if it isn't going to happen. I don't mean pretend eveything is peachy keen because Im not totally stupid, but to not let my illness make decissions for me.

In other words it isn't how or even why you die, it how you lived your last conscious minute. That's my take on life and death.

Right or wrong it's how I live my life and how I keep plugging away. I'm a shock and surprise to my doctors. That's a good thing I think.

Good luck son you sure as hell deserve it.

 
At 8:23 AM, Blogger mysteryscribe said...

I don't know if you are reading these comments or not but I wanted to say something about dying that I would just as soon not be on the blog. This can be upsetting for some folks but I think you and I can understand it. At least I hope this isn't offensive to you.

Im not sure where I learned this, maybe it was the attitude of young men always knowing death is a piece of paper and an airplane flight away, less than ten miles away in me case, once at least.

Or maybe it was when I was twenty five and they told me I might have a brain tumor/ They just didn't know why things didn't seem just right in the way I moved. While they were tapping my spine and generally causing me great pain. The woman in the room next to me was under a death sentance for hodkins lymphoma in the sixties it was not curable.

She showed such great courage and dignity it shamed me for even being there. No matter whatelse her life was about it was an inspiration to me.

It could have been before they opened my skull in 1985. Before they went in they had no idea what type tumor it was, only that they would not be able to get it all out. If it had been malignant I was a goner. It wasn't of course but they didn't know that for a while. They did some damage that never properly righted itself.

It could have been when I had my second heart attack, the one I got treated for. That time they told my family I might not live more than a week. It is seven years later and my cardiologist was shocked two years ago that I was still alive. He would be amazed now since I haven't taken a drug in over two years.

The reason is simple the brain tumor is back with a vengence. I live with an ever increase number and severity of problems. There are three main ones. My visioni s crap, my cognative abilities go down hill a little at a time, but worst of all is my motor skils.

The wretched little thing is pressing on at least two areas of my brain. One being the old part and one being some top lobe. In other workds they also told me a matter of weeks. That was about two years ago.

So getting ready to die seems to have been a lifelong project with me. The first thing I learned is that Im damn hard to kill. The second is that it doesn't matter when or from what one dies. I am afraid I believe that dead is dead. It only matters to me that I live right up till the moment I don't live any more.

I may go out screaming or crying or even begging that just doesn't matter. What matters is that I live my life as if it isn't going to happen. I don't mean pretend eveything is peachy keen because Im not totally stupid, but to not let my illness make decissions for me.

In other words it isn't how or even why you die, it how you lived your last conscious minute. That's my take on life and death.

Right or wrong it's how I live my life and how I keep plugging away. I'm a shock and surprise to my doctors. That's a good thing I think.

Good luck son you sure as hell deserve it.

 
At 8:23 AM, Blogger mysteryscribe said...

I don't know if you are reading these comments or not but I wanted to say something about dying that I would just as soon not be on the blog. This can be upsetting for some folks but I think you and I can understand it. At least I hope this isn't offensive to you.

Im not sure where I learned this, maybe it was the attitude of young men always knowing death is a piece of paper and an airplane flight away, less than ten miles away in me case, once at least.

Or maybe it was when I was twenty five and they told me I might have a brain tumor/ They just didn't know why things didn't seem just right in the way I moved. While they were tapping my spine and generally causing me great pain. The woman in the room next to me was under a death sentance for hodkins lymphoma in the sixties it was not curable.

She showed such great courage and dignity it shamed me for even being there. No matter whatelse her life was about it was an inspiration to me.

It could have been before they opened my skull in 1985. Before they went in they had no idea what type tumor it was, only that they would not be able to get it all out. If it had been malignant I was a goner. It wasn't of course but they didn't know that for a while. They did some damage that never properly righted itself.

It could have been when I had my second heart attack, the one I got treated for. That time they told my family I might not live more than a week. It is seven years later and my cardiologist was shocked two years ago that I was still alive. He would be amazed now since I haven't taken a drug in over two years.

The reason is simple the brain tumor is back with a vengence. I live with an ever increase number and severity of problems. There are three main ones. My visioni s crap, my cognative abilities go down hill a little at a time, but worst of all is my motor skils.

The wretched little thing is pressing on at least two areas of my brain. One being the old part and one being some top lobe. In other workds they also told me a matter of weeks. That was about two years ago.

So getting ready to die seems to have been a lifelong project with me. The first thing I learned is that Im damn hard to kill. The second is that it doesn't matter when or from what one dies. I am afraid I believe that dead is dead. It only matters to me that I live right up till the moment I don't live any more.

I may go out screaming or crying or even begging that just doesn't matter. What matters is that I live my life as if it isn't going to happen. I don't mean pretend eveything is peachy keen because Im not totally stupid, but to not let my illness make decissions for me.

In other words it isn't how or even why you die, it how you lived your last conscious minute. That's my take on life and death.

Right or wrong it's how I live my life and how I keep plugging away. I'm a shock and surprise to my doctors. That's a good thing I think.

Good luck son you sure as hell deserve it.

 
At 8:23 AM, Blogger mysteryscribe said...

I don't know if you are reading these comments or not but I wanted to say something about dying that I would just as soon not be on the blog. This can be upsetting for some folks but I think you and I can understand it. At least I hope this isn't offensive to you.

Im not sure where I learned this, maybe it was the attitude of young men always knowing death is a piece of paper and an airplane flight away, less than ten miles away in me case, once at least.

Or maybe it was when I was twenty five and they told me I might have a brain tumor/ They just didn't know why things didn't seem just right in the way I moved. While they were tapping my spine and generally causing me great pain. The woman in the room next to me was under a death sentance for hodkins lymphoma in the sixties it was not curable.

She showed such great courage and dignity it shamed me for even being there. No matter whatelse her life was about it was an inspiration to me.

It could have been before they opened my skull in 1985. Before they went in they had no idea what type tumor it was, only that they would not be able to get it all out. If it had been malignant I was a goner. It wasn't of course but they didn't know that for a while. They did some damage that never properly righted itself.

It could have been when I had my second heart attack, the one I got treated for. That time they told my family I might not live more than a week. It is seven years later and my cardiologist was shocked two years ago that I was still alive. He would be amazed now since I haven't taken a drug in over two years.

The reason is simple the brain tumor is back with a vengence. I live with an ever increase number and severity of problems. There are three main ones. My visioni s crap, my cognative abilities go down hill a little at a time, but worst of all is my motor skils.

The wretched little thing is pressing on at least two areas of my brain. One being the old part and one being some top lobe. In other workds they also told me a matter of weeks. That was about two years ago.

So getting ready to die seems to have been a lifelong project with me. The first thing I learned is that Im damn hard to kill. The second is that it doesn't matter when or from what one dies. I am afraid I believe that dead is dead. It only matters to me that I live right up till the moment I don't live any more.

I may go out screaming or crying or even begging that just doesn't matter. What matters is that I live my life as if it isn't going to happen. I don't mean pretend eveything is peachy keen because Im not totally stupid, but to not let my illness make decissions for me.

In other words it isn't how or even why you die, it how you lived your last conscious minute. That's my take on life and death.

Right or wrong it's how I live my life and how I keep plugging away. I'm a shock and surprise to my doctors. That's a good thing I think.

Good luck son you sure as hell deserve it.

 
At 8:23 AM, Blogger mysteryscribe said...

I don't know if you are reading these comments or not but I wanted to say something about dying that I would just as soon not be on the blog. This can be upsetting for some folks but I think you and I can understand it. At least I hope this isn't offensive to you.

Im not sure where I learned this, maybe it was the attitude of young men always knowing death is a piece of paper and an airplane flight away, less than ten miles away in me case, once at least.

Or maybe it was when I was twenty five and they told me I might have a brain tumor/ They just didn't know why things didn't seem just right in the way I moved. While they were tapping my spine and generally causing me great pain. The woman in the room next to me was under a death sentance for hodkins lymphoma in the sixties it was not curable.

She showed such great courage and dignity it shamed me for even being there. No matter whatelse her life was about it was an inspiration to me.

It could have been before they opened my skull in 1985. Before they went in they had no idea what type tumor it was, only that they would not be able to get it all out. If it had been malignant I was a goner. It wasn't of course but they didn't know that for a while. They did some damage that never properly righted itself.

It could have been when I had my second heart attack, the one I got treated for. That time they told my family I might not live more than a week. It is seven years later and my cardiologist was shocked two years ago that I was still alive. He would be amazed now since I haven't taken a drug in over two years.

The reason is simple the brain tumor is back with a vengence. I live with an ever increase number and severity of problems. There are three main ones. My visioni s crap, my cognative abilities go down hill a little at a time, but worst of all is my motor skils.

The wretched little thing is pressing on at least two areas of my brain. One being the old part and one being some top lobe. In other workds they also told me a matter of weeks. That was about two years ago.

So getting ready to die seems to have been a lifelong project with me. The first thing I learned is that Im damn hard to kill. The second is that it doesn't matter when or from what one dies. I am afraid I believe that dead is dead. It only matters to me that I live right up till the moment I don't live any more.

I may go out screaming or crying or even begging that just doesn't matter. What matters is that I live my life as if it isn't going to happen. I don't mean pretend eveything is peachy keen because Im not totally stupid, but to not let my illness make decissions for me.

In other words it isn't how or even why you die, it how you lived your last conscious minute. That's my take on life and death.

Right or wrong it's how I live my life and how I keep plugging away. I'm a shock and surprise to my doctors. That's a good thing I think.

Good luck son you sure as hell deserve it.

 

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