A journey through a heart attack and out the other side
Discussion
Well,
I might as well do something positive as I'm here lying in a hospital bed recovering from a heart attack.
I had mine on Friday, probably about 12:30 or so and by 2:30 I had been a stented and was on my way to the cardio ward.
For many reasons I was very lucky; being in a large city that bypasses A&E for heart attacks and sends you straight to a specialist team who intervine immediately to try and reduce the risk of developing more debilitating damage.
I will more than likely make a full recovery.
So why the post?
Well, because, looking back there were signs over the last few weeks that I had ignored; headache, stiff neck, sudden changes in mood and symptoms that could easily be dismissed (like I did), as 'just a virus' or being stressed - you know, normal daily life.
So, if you feel the same, or similar and it lasts more than a handful of days, at least go see your GP and get it checked out.
Having a heart attack hurts, a lot. But it's nothing compared to the pain of them sticking a canula in your groin femoral artery and then afterwards when they plug it.
So please, don't dismiss the symptoms and think 'it's nothing'. Because there's few things harder than sitting in the back of an ambulance sending a text to your loved ones telling them how much you love them... thinking it might be the last thing from you they ever read.
I might as well do something positive as I'm here lying in a hospital bed recovering from a heart attack.
I had mine on Friday, probably about 12:30 or so and by 2:30 I had been a stented and was on my way to the cardio ward.
For many reasons I was very lucky; being in a large city that bypasses A&E for heart attacks and sends you straight to a specialist team who intervine immediately to try and reduce the risk of developing more debilitating damage.
I will more than likely make a full recovery.
So why the post?
Well, because, looking back there were signs over the last few weeks that I had ignored; headache, stiff neck, sudden changes in mood and symptoms that could easily be dismissed (like I did), as 'just a virus' or being stressed - you know, normal daily life.
So, if you feel the same, or similar and it lasts more than a handful of days, at least go see your GP and get it checked out.
Having a heart attack hurts, a lot. But it's nothing compared to the pain of them sticking a canula in your groin femoral artery and then afterwards when they plug it.
So please, don't dismiss the symptoms and think 'it's nothing'. Because there's few things harder than sitting in the back of an ambulance sending a text to your loved ones telling them how much you love them... thinking it might be the last thing from you they ever read.
It was a little one. It was bad enough. I can't imagine what a big heart attck is like.
It's been a wakeup call for lots of things.
But I also need to move on and learn to trust my body that it won't happen again. I think that comes with time. I can already see that that is going to be a nagging thing for a while to come.
It's been a wakeup call for lots of things.
But I also need to move on and learn to trust my body that it won't happen again. I think that comes with time. I can already see that that is going to be a nagging thing for a while to come.
Well I'll be home tomorrow and the damage that has been done is minimal. One stent fitted, no blockages anywhere else and a cholesterol level well within the boundaries of healthy.
So all good.
But what you don't realise is that afterwards the shock hits like a tidal wave. It's been the same for those around me - emotions up and down and all over the place with regard to the shock of the whole thing. That in itself is enough to send the BP up and the brain into a semi-meltdown.
I can see that the fear of it coming back again is going to be a work in progress. I can understand very clearly why people can lose their self confidence and 'trust ' in their body.
Mine seems to be just a case of being 'unlucky', but actually I feel very lucky.
The rehab people had a long chat with me this morning. Change those aspects that need changing, but don't change your life because what has happened. I think I understand what she means.
So all good.
But what you don't realise is that afterwards the shock hits like a tidal wave. It's been the same for those around me - emotions up and down and all over the place with regard to the shock of the whole thing. That in itself is enough to send the BP up and the brain into a semi-meltdown.
I can see that the fear of it coming back again is going to be a work in progress. I can understand very clearly why people can lose their self confidence and 'trust ' in their body.
Mine seems to be just a case of being 'unlucky', but actually I feel very lucky.
The rehab people had a long chat with me this morning. Change those aspects that need changing, but don't change your life because what has happened. I think I understand what she means.
One of the downsides of a heart attack (of which there are a few!) Is the delight of the beta blocker. Now, as helpful as this drug is, it causes a rather annoying side effect of making the heart run slower. Great I hear you say. Well, not so when you've now got a blood pressure running somewhere at 99/50 and not when wishing to escape your own failings in the bog of doom.
Codeine and me disagree. A lot. A real lot. So after several days of feeling six months pregnant with a stalled bowel, the laxative finally Mr muscled it's way through the fetid mess in my belly.
Yesterday was also the day I was told I could get up and walk again. The two were never really going to end well.
When the laxative kicked in I was out the bed like an old horse at the gate upon sniffing the glue van on invite day.
I made it the short distance to the toilet with what can best be described as Satan's python doing its damdest to escape.
But the relief. Four days of decomposition emerged in a staccato explosion of stench and slippery fifth. It was real bad, made worse by me knowing the stench and noise was permeating the door a few foot from the nurses station.
And then in those few moments of utter relief that comes from the realisation that I was now empty came the extra realisation I was feeling really spacey.
Slowly I got up. I held on to the rail. Yep, OK. I wash my hands, slowly turn around and opened the door.
Now there was no hiding the stench. It was horrific. It was making me sick and all I wanted to do was escape the scene of the crime as quickly as I could. But why do nurses stand outside the damned toilet door to hold conversations?
What the hell. I opened the door..took one step forwards and then my legs decided to abandon me to my shame.
I collapsed. The whole damned nursing station was now watching me on the floor, arse out and laughing at my predicament. But not just them, the visitors walking past to see there loved ones were now bearing witness to both my ring of fire and Satan's stench which was enveloping me in its sickly fug of cloying rolling foulness.
Of course the nurses were concerned. But there concern was limited to a 4ft radio us of my actual position. What was worse was the indignity of having to get myself up by levering myself between two chairs to get upright.
The rest of the afternoon was spent squiggly in a chair, curtains closed. Later on I returned for part deux. I swear my earlier efforts have acid etched the enamel from the bog.
But the relief, oh God it was worth it.
Codeine and me disagree. A lot. A real lot. So after several days of feeling six months pregnant with a stalled bowel, the laxative finally Mr muscled it's way through the fetid mess in my belly.
Yesterday was also the day I was told I could get up and walk again. The two were never really going to end well.
When the laxative kicked in I was out the bed like an old horse at the gate upon sniffing the glue van on invite day.
I made it the short distance to the toilet with what can best be described as Satan's python doing its damdest to escape.
But the relief. Four days of decomposition emerged in a staccato explosion of stench and slippery fifth. It was real bad, made worse by me knowing the stench and noise was permeating the door a few foot from the nurses station.
And then in those few moments of utter relief that comes from the realisation that I was now empty came the extra realisation I was feeling really spacey.
Slowly I got up. I held on to the rail. Yep, OK. I wash my hands, slowly turn around and opened the door.
Now there was no hiding the stench. It was horrific. It was making me sick and all I wanted to do was escape the scene of the crime as quickly as I could. But why do nurses stand outside the damned toilet door to hold conversations?
What the hell. I opened the door..took one step forwards and then my legs decided to abandon me to my shame.
I collapsed. The whole damned nursing station was now watching me on the floor, arse out and laughing at my predicament. But not just them, the visitors walking past to see there loved ones were now bearing witness to both my ring of fire and Satan's stench which was enveloping me in its sickly fug of cloying rolling foulness.
Of course the nurses were concerned. But there concern was limited to a 4ft radio us of my actual position. What was worse was the indignity of having to get myself up by levering myself between two chairs to get upright.
The rest of the afternoon was spent squiggly in a chair, curtains closed. Later on I returned for part deux. I swear my earlier efforts have acid etched the enamel from the bog.
But the relief, oh God it was worth it.
NDA said:
Glad to hear you're on the mend - and that the python has left the building.
I've just had a load of exploratory stuff done - angiogram etc - which may result in a bypass op. Not something I'm looking forward to.
But good to hear you're ok.
What ever your worries are now, the relief afterwards will be worth it.I've just had a load of exploratory stuff done - angiogram etc - which may result in a bypass op. Not something I'm looking forward to.
But good to hear you're ok.
It's nothing to be afraid of, rather look forwards to life after the engine upgrade
For myself the mental aspect is one that I considered soon after I came around from the stent.
The way I see it at the moment this is a bit of an exploration and an adventure in to how far my boundaries lie. I'm looking forward in a couple of weeks to testing my ticker and I just know that Trainer Road will end up being my cycling motivator to get my cardio strength back.
There's also something else from those who know my story and that's what happened to my lass. Compared to what she went through, this was all five minutes and she dealt with the worst that cancer could ever do to a body. But she looked after me. And now I'm remarried and my wife is now standing where I once stood, it's my turn to step up and be the person that one I loved was once to me.
Some things you experience, however bad they are Mark you for life, but in a positive way. Even now she's helping me. How lucky am I to have been loved so much and to be loved so much.
It's only when you feel your mortality the greatest, do you draw on the good around you and do you find details that inner core of what is your 'strength'.
I've never thought myself strong. I felt utterly useless when lily was going through hell and for a long time afterwards I felt I'd let her down - and I hated myself.
I would have so willingly swapped places with her. And afterwards I wished it was me that had died and not her.
But then, two days ago when I fell apart late at night, two floors down from where she had spend so long and where we got married, I realised for the first time in a very long time that I really do want to live. And it hit me harder than anything had since lily died.
I want to live. It has taken me to reach a point of staring at my own fragile mortality to realise that me wishing that I could have swapped with lily, had actually become something that had turned off half my own life force.
It's been a sobering few days. It's been very hard to sit here realising that at times I've been only half the man I could have been.
This has been the most extraordinarily hard part of this - the realisation that if I had died on Friday I would have not honoured the promise I made lily before she died - the promise of loving again and living again. Living. I'm only just today really beginning to unlock what that actually means. And you know what, it's both liberating and very very frightening at the same time.
Sometimes, it's not the losing of another that makes you appreciate life. Grief destroys that. Sometimes, it's staring at your own mortality that puts everything into a context you never knew, even existed.
Russell
The way I see it at the moment this is a bit of an exploration and an adventure in to how far my boundaries lie. I'm looking forward in a couple of weeks to testing my ticker and I just know that Trainer Road will end up being my cycling motivator to get my cardio strength back.
There's also something else from those who know my story and that's what happened to my lass. Compared to what she went through, this was all five minutes and she dealt with the worst that cancer could ever do to a body. But she looked after me. And now I'm remarried and my wife is now standing where I once stood, it's my turn to step up and be the person that one I loved was once to me.
Some things you experience, however bad they are Mark you for life, but in a positive way. Even now she's helping me. How lucky am I to have been loved so much and to be loved so much.
It's only when you feel your mortality the greatest, do you draw on the good around you and do you find details that inner core of what is your 'strength'.
I've never thought myself strong. I felt utterly useless when lily was going through hell and for a long time afterwards I felt I'd let her down - and I hated myself.
I would have so willingly swapped places with her. And afterwards I wished it was me that had died and not her.
But then, two days ago when I fell apart late at night, two floors down from where she had spend so long and where we got married, I realised for the first time in a very long time that I really do want to live. And it hit me harder than anything had since lily died.
I want to live. It has taken me to reach a point of staring at my own fragile mortality to realise that me wishing that I could have swapped with lily, had actually become something that had turned off half my own life force.
It's been a sobering few days. It's been very hard to sit here realising that at times I've been only half the man I could have been.
This has been the most extraordinarily hard part of this - the realisation that if I had died on Friday I would have not honoured the promise I made lily before she died - the promise of loving again and living again. Living. I'm only just today really beginning to unlock what that actually means. And you know what, it's both liberating and very very frightening at the same time.
Sometimes, it's not the losing of another that makes you appreciate life. Grief destroys that. Sometimes, it's staring at your own mortality that puts everything into a context you never knew, even existed.
Russell
The stiff neck came on over about 7 days. I thought it was just a case of me sleeping badly. Last week I even bought a new side sleeping pillow that helped a little. I felt very tired and earlier this year I had a viral infection that dragged on for weeks.
My appetite was the same, my sleep patterns no different, but I was very tired and out of sorts for the last week and very irritable.
Truth is, there's are all classic symptoms. But so is the case of a heart attack out of the blue.
And in part that is the uncertainty of it all.
Being thinner might have made a difference. But my cholesterol levels are well within guidelines. I cycle regularly and am quite cardio strong. So, some pros and some cons on the balance of risks.
Would a regular checkup have spotted the narrowing of the artery? Don't know, but possibly.
Is a pre heart attack intervention better than an acute intervention? Of course.
So if you get a chance, or your friends get the opportunity for a heart mot, take it, or urge them to take it.
I left my wife at home . I did not want her to come with me. I did not want her to see me die. I've been there. It does not leave you.
Believe me, those moments when you lie there thinking you're dying and the nurse won't answer when you ask that question, is a point in time of singular focus.
It's not the wish list. It's not regrets for things done or not done.
It's this.
Am I going to survive this?
There are a lot of seconds to fill with that thought and the brain cpu runs at quite a fast rate and is the most awesome multi processor.
The next question that follows is
What damage has it done?
And that's where I am now. That and,
What do I have to do to get back to where I was?
Can I get back there?
How long?
And then there are others that are just emerging. What will the drugs do by way of side effects?
All of these have answers. But the brain only listens to responses when it has first settled enough of the fear that is fight or flight.
I don't know if any of this answers your question. I hope it does. But if you have any doubts what so ever, go see your GP.
No wishing from me - I can't function like that and hindsight is unhelpful.
But do something today that might well mean you don't have to lie there wondering,
'Am I going to survive this'.
I thought of my mum, my dad, my sister, my wife I married only last September, my stepson, my friends Brad and Adam and my cousin dawn who's been my cancer buddy and my greatest inspiration. And I thought of my wedding and my lily and my promises.
f
k it, I'm crying now.
My appetite was the same, my sleep patterns no different, but I was very tired and out of sorts for the last week and very irritable.
Truth is, there's are all classic symptoms. But so is the case of a heart attack out of the blue.
And in part that is the uncertainty of it all.
Being thinner might have made a difference. But my cholesterol levels are well within guidelines. I cycle regularly and am quite cardio strong. So, some pros and some cons on the balance of risks.
Would a regular checkup have spotted the narrowing of the artery? Don't know, but possibly.
Is a pre heart attack intervention better than an acute intervention? Of course.
So if you get a chance, or your friends get the opportunity for a heart mot, take it, or urge them to take it.
I left my wife at home . I did not want her to come with me. I did not want her to see me die. I've been there. It does not leave you.
Believe me, those moments when you lie there thinking you're dying and the nurse won't answer when you ask that question, is a point in time of singular focus.
It's not the wish list. It's not regrets for things done or not done.
It's this.
Am I going to survive this?
There are a lot of seconds to fill with that thought and the brain cpu runs at quite a fast rate and is the most awesome multi processor.
The next question that follows is
What damage has it done?
And that's where I am now. That and,
What do I have to do to get back to where I was?
Can I get back there?
How long?
And then there are others that are just emerging. What will the drugs do by way of side effects?
All of these have answers. But the brain only listens to responses when it has first settled enough of the fear that is fight or flight.
I don't know if any of this answers your question. I hope it does. But if you have any doubts what so ever, go see your GP.
No wishing from me - I can't function like that and hindsight is unhelpful.
But do something today that might well mean you don't have to lie there wondering,
'Am I going to survive this'.
I thought of my mum, my dad, my sister, my wife I married only last September, my stepson, my friends Brad and Adam and my cousin dawn who's been my cancer buddy and my greatest inspiration. And I thought of my wedding and my lily and my promises.
f
k it, I'm crying now.In the quiet hours now I'm sleeping on the sofa - no stairs for me for a while as my wife is worried about me falling, I just wanted to take the opportunity to thank you all for your support.
She's asleep now and absolutely shattered. Like i said earlier, I know how hard it is to be the one at home worrying.
I have only now come to understand, albeit how fleetingly my first wife hid so much from me of what was happening to her. And she did a dammed good job of it. She could keep it all in and her self control and emotional management is something I've never experienced in another.
But I'm built differently and I need to process the emotion quickly to let the logic drive the decisions.
But I have no decisions to make. My drug regime is pretty much laid out, the plan for the next few weeks is sensible eating, plenty of sleep and then a cardio stress test.
But I can't stop thinking of the man I saw today with holes in his lungs.iys left the biggest impression. Well that and diabetes and how deadly it is.
I got the most horrible wake up call on Friday, but like lily said to me about cancer - a great message in crap packaging, it's made me look hard at my life. It's clichéd, but it has been a wakeup up call to living.
Ph had always come to my help in times of need and this time has been no different. For that and as always thank you.
But there is one person more than any other who I want to thank. His name is Brad. He came to the hospice when I asked and he had remained my most loyal and wonderful friend. We are so different and if it wasn't for lily dying we would never have met, but he has become my most wonderful of friends. He was my best man at my wedding and more than a few times of late he's been there when the past has been a monster.
Some of you know him, but he is the embodiment of all that is best in ph and in life. He'll be embarrassed when he reads this, he's a real mans man. But I am lost at ways of saying thank you to him.
It's only when you stand at the edge of losing everything do you realise what everything really is. Life. It is everything.
I loved. She died. I mourned. I love again. I am loved. I've always known that nothing else matters, that feathering life with fine things is great, but there are more important things.
Maybe this is all just the ramblings of a middle aged man post reality check. Possibly. But I also like to think that somewhere in all my words, if what we go through is shared and that sharing helps even one moment of one life in crisis, it's been worth it, that writing about lily's cancer made a difference, or my heart attack makes a difference, laying it bare, has been worth it.
Once again, thank you all. And Brad, write your travel diary this trip, I'm looking forward to a funny read. Love you man.
R.
She's asleep now and absolutely shattered. Like i said earlier, I know how hard it is to be the one at home worrying.
I have only now come to understand, albeit how fleetingly my first wife hid so much from me of what was happening to her. And she did a dammed good job of it. She could keep it all in and her self control and emotional management is something I've never experienced in another.
But I'm built differently and I need to process the emotion quickly to let the logic drive the decisions.
But I have no decisions to make. My drug regime is pretty much laid out, the plan for the next few weeks is sensible eating, plenty of sleep and then a cardio stress test.
But I can't stop thinking of the man I saw today with holes in his lungs.iys left the biggest impression. Well that and diabetes and how deadly it is.
I got the most horrible wake up call on Friday, but like lily said to me about cancer - a great message in crap packaging, it's made me look hard at my life. It's clichéd, but it has been a wakeup up call to living.
Ph had always come to my help in times of need and this time has been no different. For that and as always thank you.
But there is one person more than any other who I want to thank. His name is Brad. He came to the hospice when I asked and he had remained my most loyal and wonderful friend. We are so different and if it wasn't for lily dying we would never have met, but he has become my most wonderful of friends. He was my best man at my wedding and more than a few times of late he's been there when the past has been a monster.
Some of you know him, but he is the embodiment of all that is best in ph and in life. He'll be embarrassed when he reads this, he's a real mans man. But I am lost at ways of saying thank you to him.
It's only when you stand at the edge of losing everything do you realise what everything really is. Life. It is everything.
I loved. She died. I mourned. I love again. I am loved. I've always known that nothing else matters, that feathering life with fine things is great, but there are more important things.
Maybe this is all just the ramblings of a middle aged man post reality check. Possibly. But I also like to think that somewhere in all my words, if what we go through is shared and that sharing helps even one moment of one life in crisis, it's been worth it, that writing about lily's cancer made a difference, or my heart attack makes a difference, laying it bare, has been worth it.
Once again, thank you all. And Brad, write your travel diary this trip, I'm looking forward to a funny read. Love you man.
R.
Little update as me as well.
No beta blockers any more as I have asthma a day even the cardio selective of one has triggered that hateful asthma feeling. I'd rather live with a slightly higher risk of no top brake than daily with feeling crap with asthma.
So that just leaves asprin, clopidogerel and ramapril and a statin.
It's going to take some hard work to get back my physical strength. I can't wait to start cardio rehab.
No beta blockers any more as I have asthma a day even the cardio selective of one has triggered that hateful asthma feeling. I'd rather live with a slightly higher risk of no top brake than daily with feeling crap with asthma.
So that just leaves asprin, clopidogerel and ramapril and a statin.
It's going to take some hard work to get back my physical strength. I can't wait to start cardio rehab.
Cloppydog for a year. I have been warned about bleeding. Shaving cuts make me look like an extra from the chainsaw massacre
Edit. Next year I shall ride the prudential ride 100 for bhf. Need a target to work towards. They do good work.
I suppose deep down when this was all taking place, I kinda knew this wasn't my time. But it is a weird thing, in part I feel like I've let me down. Most odd. I know, coulda, shoulda, woulda does no good, but even then...
Edit. Next year I shall ride the prudential ride 100 for bhf. Need a target to work towards. They do good work.
I suppose deep down when this was all taking place, I kinda knew this wasn't my time. But it is a weird thing, in part I feel like I've let me down. Most odd. I know, coulda, shoulda, woulda does no good, but even then...
Edited by drivin_me_nuts on Wednesday 15th June 10:58
popeyewhite said:
drivin_me_nuts said:
Having a heart attack hurts, a lot. But it's nothing compared to the pain of them sticking a canula in your groin femoral artery and then afterwards when they plug it.
Hmm, how about having a catheter forced through a urethral stricture? That nipped a bit, and they had to change the bedsheets three times due to all the blood. Hope you get better soon!
I had that years ago when I had a severe intestinal infection. Oh, but the pain was as nothing compared to the relief of being able to pee again. Life... it's the simple pleasures. I now carry the GTN spray all the time. But also, I carry a 300mg asprin tablet in my wallet at all times.
I have also got these made up (I know a commercial link, and there are others, but I carried a carry a version of this as a wristband when I travel and dog tags all the time and cards in my wallet and my phone.)
Particularly as I travel abroad, if the same thing happens some time in the future, i'm hoping at least that those who would/could help me know my drugs and know my history. Same with my phone the ICE and personal page always show and there is enough detail on them to see innediately my drugs and also the things I should not be given. Personal choice and all that, but for me at least if gives me a (small) sense of peace on mind in this aspect at least.
(I first saw this mentioned several years ago on the pedal powered PH forum)
http://www.onelifeid.com
....
Week 3 post MI.
Now walking 1.5 miles a day, up hill, down dale. The ticker seems to be working The urge to walk more is hard to resist, but the guidelines on recovery talk about 30-40 minutes in the first three weeks (and nothing about cycling!)
I have also got these made up (I know a commercial link, and there are others, but I carried a carry a version of this as a wristband when I travel and dog tags all the time and cards in my wallet and my phone.)
Particularly as I travel abroad, if the same thing happens some time in the future, i'm hoping at least that those who would/could help me know my drugs and know my history. Same with my phone the ICE and personal page always show and there is enough detail on them to see innediately my drugs and also the things I should not be given. Personal choice and all that, but for me at least if gives me a (small) sense of peace on mind in this aspect at least.
(I first saw this mentioned several years ago on the pedal powered PH forum)
http://www.onelifeid.com
....
Week 3 post MI.
Now walking 1.5 miles a day, up hill, down dale. The ticker seems to be working
The urge to walk more is hard to resist, but the guidelines on recovery talk about 30-40 minutes in the first three weeks (and nothing about cycling!)Date sorted. I'll meet up with Brad somewhere. I'm looking forward to it.
...
Right an update. Walking now up to 3 miles in an hour which isn't bad considering. Not a squeak from the ticker, but I do get tired and yesterday was a day off spent pretty much doing bugger all, until the late afternoon.
Appointment with the cardi team mid July. So, hopefully by then I will be in a stronger position heart wise when they plug me in for another ECG.
...
One thing that troubles me is the need for Statins. The more I read, the less convinced a) they do anything useful b) they can be a trigger for T2 diabeties and that concerns me more than another HA.
...
Walking today has also highlighed something else that i'd be interested to hear about in other HA peoples - and that's the somewhat unexpected thoughts that have come from this. It goes something like this, 'well ANYONE can have a HA and though there are clearly behaviours that increase the risk, even if I do everything 'right', it could still happen again. Or it might not. There' no reason at all to think it migh. I take all the meds required of me. But, If it does, so what. I'll just strap ito on and do it all over again. So what. I'm soon to be 50. I've outlived a great many and done a stack of things.'
I genuinely can't work out if this is just my brain processing what's happened, whether this is a form of 'fatalism' or if this is a good and healthy realistic balance of the current situation.
...
Right an update. Walking now up to 3 miles in an hour which isn't bad considering. Not a squeak from the ticker, but I do get tired and yesterday was a day off spent pretty much doing bugger all, until the late afternoon.
Appointment with the cardi team mid July. So, hopefully by then I will be in a stronger position heart wise when they plug me in for another ECG.
...
One thing that troubles me is the need for Statins. The more I read, the less convinced a) they do anything useful b) they can be a trigger for T2 diabeties and that concerns me more than another HA.
...
Walking today has also highlighed something else that i'd be interested to hear about in other HA peoples - and that's the somewhat unexpected thoughts that have come from this. It goes something like this, 'well ANYONE can have a HA and though there are clearly behaviours that increase the risk, even if I do everything 'right', it could still happen again. Or it might not. There' no reason at all to think it migh. I take all the meds required of me. But, If it does, so what. I'll just strap ito on and do it all over again. So what. I'm soon to be 50. I've outlived a great many and done a stack of things.'
I genuinely can't work out if this is just my brain processing what's happened, whether this is a form of 'fatalism' or if this is a good and healthy realistic balance of the current situation.
spikeyhead said:
Russel, hope you continue to recover, wishing you all the best
Thank you. My best to you and your lovely lady ...
Mortality... Sometimes a tickle from Mr Reaper focuses the mind on your mortality. Hey ho Mr death, I've met you before and you don't really scared me any more. Been there done that.
Enjoy yourself, it's later than you think
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