Thursday Tune Up

Naw. It wasn't for my car--

Eventho it could use an oil change for sure--plus a good wash I digress.

This tune up was for my heart. It was a six month check up with my cardiologist, Dr. Sara. I'll be honest, I was a little scared. Why?

Because Dr. Sara was going to review my ECHO (an ultrasound of my heart). When I took the ECHO, I was so under stress professionally, which slid off into my school work. I didn't have any solace. I just knew Dr. Sara would tell me my heart's lining had gotten thicker. This concerned her in my last appointment and was due to blood pressure. This go-round she was happy because it was back to normal. My EKG was 'clear' and no change to meds I take.

I had mitral valve replacement surgery caused by the disease endocarditis. A valve I never knew existed literally got feasted on by a disease I never heard of. What basically happened, bacteria from an infection landed in my valve and clustered. They decided my valve was tasty and dug in. A piece of the cluster broke off and journeyed to my brain. The neuro-doctor said I had a stroke that wasn't a stroke--basically my brain burped.

Well, it burped enough because my speech was effected for about a week. Slurred. Missed words, even tho I knew what I wanted to say but couldn't.

Now almost five years later, I got this exam thing down pat. EKG and ECHO are more than just alphabet letters. I check my own coumadin level. When the scar itches, I just scratch and pretty much forget who may be looking. I remember what it was like when it hurt to move an inch in bed, due to my breastbone healing and weeks it took to sleep on something else than just my back.

I don't see Dr. Sara again until July. She's a nice lady, looks like younger Susan Lucci. I don't want to see her any sooner than July, unless we're both eating pie at Celebrity Bakery. Dr. Sara's parting words to me were: "I don't know what you're doing, just keep doing it."

Yes, indeed--that's the kinda tune up I like!

I am blessed.

March 14, 2006 was Tuesday

On this day in 2006, was my open heart surgery day to replace my mitral valve. Did I ever mention I didn't even KNOW I had a mitral valve until they told me mine was damaged by this infection called endocarditis? Anyway, since my date with the surgeon was to take place at a sister hospital, the paramedics were to come get me at 6AM.

They didn't. More like closer to 7am. I'd been awaken to take a quick sponge bath, change into my surgery gown, gather what belongings I had left and wait to be taken. Well, I waited.

When the guys did show up, I was strapped to a gurney and rolled on my way. All the nurse that taken care of me said their good byes and told me to call them to let them know everything was OK. For the brief moment I was wheeled outside from this hospital to the waiting ambulance and into the sister hospital, I had my first taste of fresh air in 15 days. Even filled with exhaust, I didn't care. Wonderful. The paramedics told me there was no way they could have picked me up at 6AM because, they didn't even start their shift until after 6. Oh well.

Since I was late, and my surgery was first of the day, the nurse in charge of doing prelims was ticked. I was released from the gurney and then she walked me to different stations to take my vitals. I realized how weak I really was--I couldn't keep with her on these short walks. The nurse grumbled how all surgeries were now pushed back for the day. Considering I didn't WANT a surgery, I was kinda OK with that. Anyway, the nurse took vitals and I remained silent and did as I was told. Then after the vital taking, a group of folks helped me back on a gurney to get me prepped.

They were all nice, asking if I was OK as they measured my mouth for a tube or somesuch. jabbed me for IV's and whatever else they did. Then I heard "Put her out."

Next thing I heard was, "Good Afternoon!" I squinted at the clock. 3:45PM. A tube was still down my throat. I just knew I would choke. I heard a female say, "She woke so fast. Where's the doctor?" I heard the same female voice talk to the doctor by phone, "Yes, she's awake already!" All in all, I was later told, by that female nurse she'd never had a patient wake up as fast as I did. They needed the doctor's OK to get the tube out of my throat. If I hadn't been strapped down, I was gonna pull that sucker out myself.

Fast forward to this day in 2010. Got my praise on at Inspiring Body of Christ Church, with Pastor Rickie Rush. Once again affirmed how people in your life, can step between you and your blessing. They may still be committed to the flesh, while you are now committed to your spirit. I thought of folks I've loved, yet at the present are out of my life. I love them, but we just don't connect--at least, for right now.

As for the rest of this Sunday, it's over 70 degrees. Sun continues to shine. The flowers posted up top are in my backyard at this very moment. Downed iced coffee and pet Perry the 81/2 year old orange tabby cat who was nice enough to keep me company while I typed this.

Now if you will excuse me, Mama got new tennyshoes and gots to take a walk. You see, because of this day in 2006 with my trust in One Who Knows to guide surgeons while I lie on that table with machines keeping me alive --I can. .

So I woke up too soon from surgery, eh? Well, I have things to do.

I am blessed

Rain Over

Where I lived, didn't have a whole bunch of it-yet enough to get a good soak. Even looks like the sun is trying to make one more stand today.

And it's 5:21 pm as I script this, so the sun will be for just a short while. I am so glad, that in a few months the sun will stick around longer than 6pm.

Today was one of those eye open kinda days. First I spent time at a car dealership, which I do loathe, yet the guy I worked with was nice. Plus I didn't feel that smarmy car dealer yuck. Alas, he did laugh at my want to put just 20 bucks down--hey, he asked. I didn't leave there with a new car, or in my case, I already have a 2006 HHR, which is my Pumpkin, and I wanted a newer HHR--in this case, BlueBerry. Upside down, I would so be--I may have to hold off for a couple more months--like my birthday--which is April...the BEST month of the year-more to put down. Stay tuned.

Also, the rain made me jot more notes of the writing project I put myself on. Excites me. Two novellas, with three short stories each. Christian based. One novella, historical fiction back in olden, olden times, where the Bible is being my main guide and Jesus appears a time or two. The second novella is set in modern day. The beauty of it, one story is finished as I work on a second, and have notes for the others. Pretty psyched.

Folks have asked WHERE this Christian interest came from. Trust me, it was NEVER on my to-do list. I thought being a star writer of future Penthouse Fantasy magazines would be ticket out from Iowa. Well, that never happened, plus I never did submit anything to them. Anyway, the feeling hit around the beginning of 2006. Actually read a piece I was working on to my writers' group. Not quite done, yet I wanted their feedback. It winded me so to read it and I kinda flubbed over words than normal. Thought I was just nervous---I was, since I'd never written anything like this. Well, two days later I landed in the hospital for three weeks. Yea, for the whole mitral valve replacement surgery thing. Yea, talk about detour.

And to sell my homemade pies. The idea of being able to make this finally happen is on paper. Not quite one of Oprah's favorite things, yet I hope a handful of folks would be interested. Goal is to ship for arrival by Valentine's Day weekend. All transactions would be done thru Pay Pal. I feel good about this too.

So yep, an eye opening kinda day. Sun still tries to show itself, while I now feel some of my bubblegum inner self trying to emerge. So we'll let Bobby Sherman tell " Little Woman" to come on down from her cloud and leave her world behind...

Naw. I'm busy.

Star Thursday Thought

Watched the Oprah episode about weight loss, with Valerie Bertinelli, Marie Osmond and Star Jones. Granted, Star Jones was a story everybody wanted to hear yet, knowing about Valerie and Marie for years, I would have liked them to have more time.

I digress.

Back to Star. I'm still not as big of an admirer as I first was, however I liked her more after watching her this time, than I did--say, on Larry King after she left The View. I pretty much quit watching The View because of her. Tired of the wedding stuff, etc. But today, was different.

Star's talk of not letting anybody know she had gastric bypass. How she wasn't strong enough to face her fears. Possibly disappointing people. All that reminded me of me and my open-heart surgery. Not everybody knew what was wrong with me to be in the hospital. In fact, when I went back to work, some folks thought I had gastric bypass because I'd lost so much weight (and since gained half of it back--drat!) Some of the folks I grew up, with didn't know. I also realized, like Star said about her The View comrades, how much of a burden she put on them to keep her confidence.

And I did that to Movie Man. I didn't realize how much burden was on him. I'm forever sorry for that. And I've told him so. Didn't give him as much thought for what he felt, as I should have as IV's were pumped into my veins. Heaven knows I had enough time on my hands. Co-workers knew we were close, so he would know the truth. I was being selfish. I wanted to be the one to tell them my illness, plus I didn't want a lot of 'there, there' around me.

Yes, indeed, you WANT folks to be there for you. They're scared--maybe more than you realize. In fact one of my closest chums told me recently how she thought she would lose me. I never knew. Sometimes though, the visitors can tire you out when you need rest. I'm blessed for everyone--they were there in a shade drawn moment of my life.

Back to my point, Star said she would disappoint folks if they found out. I wondered if I thought that. And I did. Not with the surgery--oh heck, that was a piece of cake. Nope. I was petrified, when I first went into the hospital and my speech was interrupted.

I'd had the stroke that wasn't a stroke from the piece of endocarditis broke off and traveled to my brain. My neurologist said it caused my brain to burp--but that was a few days after my speech cleared up. But before--oh man--I was devastated if I could not communicate as I once did. I was known for my speech, my mannerisms and now I was scared it would all be gone. I sat in that hospital and feared I would always be able to understand folks (and I could) but to reply would be slurred and/or I'd miss a word in a sentence.

For instance, the doc would say "have a nice day." And I would respond: "have a day." I'd hear them, but my brain wasn't quite there. During that time I thought I would not be good for much. What could I do if I couldn't talk? That's when I wasn't strong enough to tell others outside of my circle, because I wasn't the same. Their memories of me were fun lovin, do anything she wanted and hey, it's party because she's here. Without fluid speech, I felt, I would never measure up again.

To think that,-wow- I musta still lacked some brain cells.

Would I do some things differently? Yes. For one, my boss at the time, I would have let her be more open with my co-workers. Movie Man would have burden lifted off him. I didn't want folks to feel sorry for me. I tired for the look of 'is she going to keel over? (I still see that now) Or rush to my bedside. If things were worse, well yea. But they weren't.

I just wanted to get on with my life. Maybe that's what Star Jones wanted. To learn and get on with her new life.

Star says she grew spirituality. I second that emotion. My faith was tested. Did I have it or did I not?

When all was said and done, I realized my fear of fear itself and fear of disappointment was pointless. I knew where my strength came from.

And He didn't bring me this far to leave me.

Hope Star Jones gets that.

March 13, 2006 was Monday

You remember it well.
Twas the eve of your open-heart surgery.
To repair or replace your heart's mitral valve.
You didn't even know such a thing existed.
Only until much blood, tests and x-rays were taken.
Even then your neurologist said, "There's nothing wrong with you. Why are you here?"
But there were lesions on your brain. Why?
Endocarditis.
A disease you never knew existed until that moment.
That's what you get for no grade "A" in 6th Grade Life Science.
Bored, yet eager to get on with it.
Had to wait 6 days til your date with the surgeon.
Sat in the hospital. Made friends with nurses and some doctors.
Chums call and visit. Flowers arrive.
The last person to see you this night was Movie Man.
He stayed until 9 pm or so.
You walk him to the elevator, your arm thru his.
Movie Man has on real clothes, while you in faded, hospital gowns.
Would pay ransom to have on real clothes and leave this place.
Tears and fright cloud Movie Man's eyes.
You smile to console and reassure him that
You'll see him soon.
A hug seals the deal and Movie Man gets on the elevator.
You tell him again that you'll be OK.
Your eyes lock as the doors close.
You stand still and wipe your own eyes.
Then turn and walk back to your room.
You repeat your mantra: Psalms 50:15
Promise to give Him all your troubles.
He will rescue you.
Just give Him the glory.
Tomorrow life will change
You are blessed.

A Big Deal...

Just carried in the bag of kitty litter from my car. Planned to washout all the poo boxes and pour fresh litter in them---tomorrow. Well, I decided we needed a little refreshing in the meantime. Cat lovers—you’ll know what I mean. So I go get the bag of litter. Big deal right?

Consider it’s 11:15 pm and the bag was 50lbs. PetCo had great deal—50lb bag for $6.99—if you had your PALS card. I did. Back to why it’s a big deal. In late 2005, I was ill with endocarditis—didn’t know it, more less ever heard of it, Movie Man let me use his Sam’s card to buy 40lbs of kitty litter (yes, even then).

When we got back to my place, he carried the litter up my steps and set it in my apartment. Sometime later, after Movie Man left, I decided to move the bag to another part of the apartment. When I tried to lift it, my heart pounded against my chest as it never had before. I immediately dropped the bag, and couldn’t seem to catch my breath. The thump was so loud; I just knew my downstairs neighbor could hear it. Had some discomfort, yet not really pain. I was scared my heart would burst from my chest ala the Sigourney Weaver classic, “Aliens” (the 2nd one, because it still makes me jump). Sat on my couch, then went to my bed—and just lied there. I wasn’t sure what to do. I’m sure it was only minutes, yet it seemed like hours before my heart calmed down. I remember asking out loud, “What was that?” To look back, I wonder what my blood pressure was at that moment. My breath eventually evened out and my heart eased its bang a gong through my chest.

So what did I do? Did I call a friend or even 911? Of course, not. I went to Wal-mart.

The big deal tonight was being cautious as I carried the 50 lbs of litter, with both hands, into my house. No pounds in my chest. No shortness of breath. Every time I carry large bags like that, I get a little antsy. I still recall being ordered to not carry anything heavier than a milk carton—and here I was cradling 50 lbs of litter.

Now the refreshing is done. I have cats to pet, a couple spoonfuls of ice cream to savor while I read a few pages of an entertaining book by Lydia Adamson, where the cats help their human solve a mystery—yea, yea…I love cats…all this before I thank God for this day He made and for the one I pray He blesses me with tomorrow.

Burgers and Buds...

I met my chum , Movie Man, for a tasty burger with even more delicious onion rings, last night. We hadn't been able to chat, face to face of late--so we were long over due. Movie Man, is just that--a Movie Man--he can tell you anything and everything about movies in the last 30 or so years--box office, director, producer, behind the scene stuff. He can tell you every movie we've seen together, plus the theatre and if the sun was up or not that day. Yea, sometimes I think he visits the Land of Oz more than he should, yet he's one of my bestest, goodest chums.

So we sat there last night. He listened to me ramble on. Movie Man will keep mental tabs of everything I say. I gabbed on about the 50th birthday bash from last week, threw out several names-he remembered them all. He's good like that. He gets kinda ticked when I don't remember as much. "Mad Cow" I say. I told him about my one classmate suggesting--urging me on to go into public speaking.

Movie Man agreed. He checked off a list of topics I could speak of. He even mentioned to speak about being the only black kid in my class of 150--how many people know about that? What did I encounter? Born with microtia. The writing. Losing my mother when I was 13. Movie Man was great---so supportive. Encouragment. Just like my classmate.

Only one major difference. A little eighteen year difference. Movie Man was born in August 1976. Three months after I graduated from high school.

We have our differences. Certainly. There are times I want to hit fast forward, so he'll grow up faster. Then I'm sure he wants me to re-wind so I can remember what it was like. Movie Man keeps me on my toes, even at times I want to kick him with them. He gives me insight of things, at a different point of view--a different generational point of view.

We went to Barack Obama's rally here in Dallas a few months back. Our discussion after was fruitful. Just as it was last night. It astounds me, how conversation with someone who was five years old when the first Indiana Jones movie came out and I was just thinking "Wow, Harrison Ford is hot and I wonder how much beer I can drink tonight?" can be so good.

Movie Man is more of man than he gives himself credit for. After all, after my surgery in 2006, he made sure I celebrated my birthday. I couldn't drive yet, so he picked me up, took me to lunch and made sure I enjoyed the day. We actually sat in a grocery store parking lot, while I gave myself my daily IV. He sipped a Mountain Dew. It couldn't have been fun, for him, to see a friend of his, impatient to regain her strength. Yet he made it through. We both did.

Now it's 2008. We chat. We laugh. We tick each other off. I still don't remember as much as he'd like. Movie Man still remembers everything. I asked him last night if he's up for some racquetball, since he injured his calf a couple months ago.

The kid says, 'Oh sure. I won't have to run around that much to beat YOU."

Yep, one of my goodest, and bestest chums.

Game ON!