Abo--o- o-ut Face! March! in The Common Room

Several days ago, I saw my little cardiologist. He listened as I catalogued the complaints again: dizziness, loss of balance, wooziness, fogged thinking, warped vision, chills, waves of nausea.

He looked at me closely and asked me to take a few steps across the room. As usual, I listed left and had to catch myself against the wall. I groped behind me and my daughter guided me into a chair.

Nice, sweet, talented, little doctor pecked at his computer and talked to himself under his breath. I love when he does this. You can just see the wheels turning in his head and sometimes get an insite into his thought processes.

“Not a ususal side efffect of sotolol. Not a side effect of Protonics.” Mutter, mutter, mutter.

He sat back and stared at the wall just over my head. He shook his head as though clearing it and knelt to look at my ankle (checking the swelling I’ve had for over two years.) he looked at and felt one ankle and then just squeezed the other without looking. He got his thumb on one of the open wounds and I yelped. He snatched the pant leg up, exclaiming with apology and sympathy, patting my knee and saying “ouchie, ouchie, ouchie.” very softly, under his breath. I had to laugh, even though it hurt.

He occupied himself with getting the nurse to bring him an anticeptic spray (for which she had to search the complex.) He sprayed it on, and knelt there, holding my ankle for what seemed two or three minutes. Mutter, mutter, mutter, staring at the wound.

Suddenly, he looked up into my eyes and a giant smile spread across his adorabale ugly little face. (this cardiologist could be my grandson.)

Softly, he said “It’s local, not systemic! The skin split because the system was septic and the body swollen, but now the body isn’t swollen. Now the wound is causing local swelling. We’ve all been treating the system and it’s not the system” (We is the team of cardiologist, pulmonologist and oncologist.)

He jumped up and his fingers started flying across the keyboard. (He prints out the directions he gives you, so there will be no mistake.) “Cut the Lasiks in half. Stop this. Replace that with this other. Add a little salt to your diet “(I’ve had none for over a year.) “Wait a week and cut the diuretic in half again. See how you feel. Watch for swelling. Play it by ear. You’ll know.”

He was practically doing a little dance. Eldest daughter looked at him and auddenly said “Dehydration? You think it’s dehydration?”

“Yes! ” he said. “I’m sure of it.”

“Shouldn’t she have an IV or push fluids?” she asked

“Absolutely not” said little doctor, addressing me. “We’ve sawed your poor body back and forth for months. It’s time to let it alone to find its own balance. You wait a few days. You’ll see.”

The next day, the dizziness eased. The following day, I walked across the room without listing. The third day, I tried my treadmill, which I bought about two years ago and then could not use. I managed to walk on it for three minutes at a very low speed.

I kept my appintment with the eye doctor. There is nothing that can be done for my long-range vision, but she could change the lenses in my reading glasses to the point where I can recognize words with good lighting a a magnifying glass. I went looking for my old, useless reading glasses so that I could use the frames and could not find them at first. (Eventually, I did.)

What I did find was the pair of glasses I had a couple of years ago. I tried them on - why, I don’t know, except that I liked the frames and dislike the one I have now. Suddenly, my warped vision cleared. Well, I don;t exactly mean cleared. It’s still fuzzy, but the warp went away. I decided to wear them for a while.. The waves of nausea went away. More of the balance issues went away. Something in the poisioning of my body from the lung infection affected my eyesight (astigmatism in particular) and is now gone. None of us suspected my glasses as a culprit in the case.

Today, I walked a half mile on my treadmill. I walk 100 strides not holding on and then 100 holding. I’ve been increasing the “not holding” each day, as well as the distance and speed.

I’ve gotten up to pee every two hours for months and months. Last night I only got up once. I actually slept long enough at one time to get into REM sleep. I dreamed that I was looking on the ground for marbles and putting them in a bag. When the bag was full, I began to try to grind them up with my mortar and pestle, like I do my potassium tablets. I had just added them to a half cup of applesauce when the alarm went off.

My subconscious isn’t very subtle, is it?

Later —

In writing a new heading on one of my check sheets, I realized that today was our 57th wedding anniversary. Usually neither of us remembers until well after the date. Tthis was just an accident. I greeted Husband with “Happy Anniversary” and he stopped to think for a moment before he replied. We went to Olive Garden for lunch and, at the end of a very good meal, shared a piece of cake, which the restaurant comped. The kids remembered our 25th and 50th. We remembered our first, ninth and this one. The wedding date was changed about six times, which is why we never remember.

Oh, we could go to Olive Garden because my blood sugar is suddenly under control . That would be the treadmill. Hurrah!

Last updated September 30, 2014