It's been one for the books, this winter.
What started as a general feeling of un-wellness, a nagging ache through the shoulders, indigestion, and having trouble settling down at night took us on an E ticket, but it was earned.
The Hubs is a ruddy guy and life had slowed for him, so gradual that he barely noticed until those nagging symptoms drove him to the doc.
I'm pretty sure no one expected for it to be much. He did a stress test in November and in December saw a cardiologist who suspicioned heart disease. An echocardiogram confirmed it, and an angiography was scheduled, after Christmas.
During the prep for the angiogram anemia was found so everything was put on hold, for an upper GI and treatment. Finally FINALLY in January they took another run at the angiogram. Hemoglobin was up, he was feeling ok but anxious to know. The cardiologist pulled me out of the waiting room 20 minutes into the procedure and said stents won't do: he needs a bypass.
It was my great honor to be with my husband as he transitioned through news he had not been prepared to hear. The whole process happened in a 4 hour span of time. Initially the shock was replaced by quiet processing, absolute denial, firey anger, considering all the options, fear of the unknown, and finally the courage and humor to take it on.
He sailed through surgery and recovery. He was home in 4 days and already somewhat back to life @ the farm. There are so many blessings too numerous to mention, but I'd have to say realizing the subtle symptoms needed to be checked out ranks up near the top.
There was the sheer luck of Sutter having a renowned cardiac hospital right in downtown Sac, and great medical coverage. Little did he know what a close call it was.
He was left with an 8" scar that's super glued, a couple of arthroscopic incisions to harvest veins, and about 30 more years. The docs couldn't get over he came in on his own, which is rare in their line of work. They bypassed sections of all 3 main arteries -- one was blocked 100%, and the other two were blocked 90%.
Please Go, even if you think it's nothing.
Feb 12, 2016
Jan 21, 2016
A Plain White Envelope on the Tree
This Christmas was different in a lot of ways. An important addition came in the form of the youngest son's lovely girlfriend, who is a perfect compliment. Also, our family traditions were challenged when the eldest son asked for nothing this year but donations to a good cause.
Well, you can imagine our surprise. Our holiday traditions are deeply rooted and have been the same for as long as I can remember. We typically get a long list of wants and needs from him. What's not to love about opening a pile of thoughtfulness wrapped in a bow?
I wasn't a fan at first. The Hubs and I generously donate throughout the year, and I wasn't sure that would give me any pleasure. Me, as if that's what it is about.
I mulled his request over a while and tried to put it in the same category as any other 'real' gift, but it wouldn't fit. And then it dawned on me how exceptional of a request this could become. It didn't have to be a check to a nameless charity, it could be wrapped around someone local who is in need.
Around this time, I read of a family in a similar spot. They donated locally and the gift was presented in a simple unmarked envelope on the tree for - in their case, the Dad - to open Christmas eve. For them, it became a treasured Christmas tradition.
Lovely! So that's what I did, and that's what I hope. I wrote a letter with this little poem and the gifts in his name, and how meaningful it was for me, too. And do you know, that stoic, soft-hearted man embraced me with moist eyes.
Best.
Christmas Gift.
Ever.
T'is the week before Christmas and all through the house
Every creature is stirring including the mouse,
The stockings are hung and are half full already
The fam will be coming with 4 dogs a'plenty.
The kitchen is turning out marshmallow treats
The vacuum is on and the beds have fresh sheets
The board games are dusted and ready for fun
The menu is planned but there's work to be done.
Not everyone celebrates the way that we do
Some live behind dumpsters and have nothing new
No one to sit down with, in warmth and good cheer
No one to hear stories, no one to be near.
It just takes a minute, or maybe a couple
To give of your time to the folks who have nothing
To learn their first name and talk for a while
Reach into their lives with an ear and a smile.
And if you can do it, it's a wonderful lift
To bring them a blanket, or gloves, or a gift
It will lighten their burden, and maybe your own
May Humanity start in our hearts here at home.
--Mom, Christmas 2015
Well, you can imagine our surprise. Our holiday traditions are deeply rooted and have been the same for as long as I can remember. We typically get a long list of wants and needs from him. What's not to love about opening a pile of thoughtfulness wrapped in a bow?
I wasn't a fan at first. The Hubs and I generously donate throughout the year, and I wasn't sure that would give me any pleasure. Me, as if that's what it is about.
I mulled his request over a while and tried to put it in the same category as any other 'real' gift, but it wouldn't fit. And then it dawned on me how exceptional of a request this could become. It didn't have to be a check to a nameless charity, it could be wrapped around someone local who is in need.
Around this time, I read of a family in a similar spot. They donated locally and the gift was presented in a simple unmarked envelope on the tree for - in their case, the Dad - to open Christmas eve. For them, it became a treasured Christmas tradition.
Lovely! So that's what I did, and that's what I hope. I wrote a letter with this little poem and the gifts in his name, and how meaningful it was for me, too. And do you know, that stoic, soft-hearted man embraced me with moist eyes.
Best.
Christmas Gift.
Ever.
T'is the week before Christmas and all through the house
Every creature is stirring including the mouse,
The stockings are hung and are half full already
The fam will be coming with 4 dogs a'plenty.
The kitchen is turning out marshmallow treats
The vacuum is on and the beds have fresh sheets
The board games are dusted and ready for fun
The menu is planned but there's work to be done.
Not everyone celebrates the way that we do
Some live behind dumpsters and have nothing new
No one to sit down with, in warmth and good cheer
No one to hear stories, no one to be near.
It just takes a minute, or maybe a couple
To give of your time to the folks who have nothing
To learn their first name and talk for a while
Reach into their lives with an ear and a smile.
And if you can do it, it's a wonderful lift
To bring them a blanket, or gloves, or a gift
It will lighten their burden, and maybe your own
May Humanity start in our hearts here at home.
--Mom, Christmas 2015
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