Let your mind wander

Posted by

0

One of Debbie’s favorite activities is to look at houses for sale. She sends me a link from the real estate broker site and refers to it as the house of the day. I tend to find it on Google maps and sometimes look on the county auditor’s site to examine its history both pricewise and ownership.

One little house we examined became a writing prompt and the following story came out.

Porter and Fannie

Porter and Fannie met in the summer of 1980. There was a neighborhood party that welcomed Porter to the neighborhood and celebrated July 4th.

Porter was a common sight shortly after he moved in to the apartment building down the block from Fannie. He had a well mannered corgi that he walked twice a day once in the early morning before going to work and once, sometimes twice, after dinner, both his own and Marshall’s. Marshall was the name of the corgi. Its full name was Howdy Marshall which was what Porter said when he found him wandering in his old neighborhood.

Marshall was so well mannered and friendly Porter was certain that his owner was nearby. That started a thorough but unfruitful search for its owner. No one near where Porter lived at the time recognized Marshall.

Porter was a walker and a sometimes jogger. That day he was walking and enjoying the January sun. Marshall appeared from behind some bushes in a nearby front yard wearing a collar with a star shaped badge that had no identifying information so Porter assumed the dog belonged to the house. Marshall reinforced that by following him up the steps and sitting beside him as he pressed the doorbell.

“Good morning! Just walking by and I think your corgi has gotten out.”, he said to the young woman who answered the door. Marshall sat happily nearby with a big dog smile and his tongue hanging sideways.

“Nope. Not mine. He’s cute though. I don’t think he belongs to anyone around here. I’ve never seen him before.”, she replied. “I’m Tammy, by the way.”

“Porter”, he replied. “No one that you know of has a corgi?”

“No. Sorry.”

“Well, I guess I’ll keep looking. Thanks for your help.” Porter turned to go and Marshall followed him.

“I know you want to be here but I can’t keep you. No dogs where I live. I’m not sure I can have a pet. And why aren’t you wearing any ID?”, he said to the dog. Some of this was vocally and some of this conversation was mental but as he knelt down to examine the corgi more closely he realized that Marshall was injured on his hind quarters. “Did some one snatch you and you got away? Does that hurt?” He reached out to pet the dog and examine his injury. The little animal stood patiently while Porter did his examination. Porter picked the dog up and crossed the street towards the block that his building was on.

When he got home he tracked down a nearby vet and found that he could take Marshall there that afternoon.

Marshall’s injuries where minor. The vet remarked that the injury to it rear leg could have easily happened when the dog was shoved out of a car door. And after listening to Porter’s story about how he came to be in possession of the dog he remarked, “No charge.” Porter left with Marshall happily wagging his tail. The vet had given him no shots.

Porter spent the next few weeks posting printed notices and placing the same information on Facebook and other social media platforms to no avail. Perhaps the vet was right. Some one had tossed Marshall from a car when they were done taking care of him. Who could have done such a thing? Marshall, Porter was by this time calling the dog Marshall and the dog would alert to that name when Porter said it out loud, for his part acted as though he had found his master back. Lots of tail wagging and excited play demonstrated this behavior daily to Porter.

Porter had not owned a dog before and had not even considered it but something in him now extended an attachment and connection to this creature smaller than him. His landlord, when Porter inquired, told him that dogs where not allowed but that he could temporarily house the dog while he sought out the true owner. As it became more and more apparent that Marshall was a castaway, Porter started looking for a new place to be with the corgi.

He found an apartment in a building in a neighborhood with which he was unfamiliar. This area was closer to his office and fortuitously he could, if he chose, ride his bike to work. As he settled into his new situation he walked Marshall everywhere he could nearby. This neighborhood he usually drove his SUV through on the way to and from work. As he roamed with Marshall, he looked at the buildings and houses. He said hello and talked to the people.

There were several other neighbors with dogs. Marshall also made contact with much butt sniffing and sometimes friendly, sometimes unfriendly noises. These encounters consumed enough time that eventually Porter became known to the neighborhood and conversations beyond a hand wave were commonplace. Dog owners have a special bond and that camaraderie extends to other owners.

A few months after Porter had moved in, he passed by Fannie’s house. She was weeding her garden and Marshall gently crept up next to her to examine her activity. Porter was distracted by a phone call as he was walking the dog after work. Marshal had taken his extendable leash all the way to the end before Porter noticed. Porter almost tripped over it. Fannie petted Marshall.

“Aren’t you cute!” she said to Marshall. Marshall wagged his tail in response.

“His name is Marshall”, said Porter. “I am Porter. I hope he didn’t surprise you.”

“Howdy, Marshall!” said Fannie to the corgi. “I’m Fannie. It’s a great evening for a walk.” she said to Porter taking off her glove to shake hands.

“Howdy Marshall is his full name. It’s what I said to him when I found him walking in my old neighborhood.”

They chatted for awhile about dogs and flowers. Marshall politely stretched out the leash to get mostly out of site near a tree to defecate.

“I’m sorry about that.” Porter told Fannie as he stooped to recover Marshall’s business into a plastic bag he brought with him specifically for the purpose.

“It’s okay. The neighborhood dogs like that spot. Not everyone cleans up after their dog. Thank you for doing that.”

It was an early summer evening in late June. Fannie and Porter talked for almost an hour during that first encounter. When the neighborhood 4th of July celebration was announced by her neighbors she volunteered her backyard which was on the corner and the next time she saw Porter and Marshall, she invited him and Marshall to the party.

In the evening dusk of the 4th when the neighborhood children were agitating and nagging their Dads to start the fireworks show. Porter and Fannie drifted off the corner porch to watch the show. Marshall sat for a minute and looked at Porter. Eventually the corgi positioned himself under their side-by-side chairs and waited anxiously while watching several kids with sparklers. If corgis could speak he might say, “Keep those sparklers in the street!”

The universe put them together at just the right time.

Love bloomed at that party. Marshall had a home with humans. He was unafraid of the fireworks show. He felt safe and fell asleep.

Where does fiction come from? This little story just came out of my fingers thinking about Porter and Fannie. Their names are on the county auditor’s site as previous owners of the house that Debbie sent one morning.

Carpe Diem.

Red Flag for Cardiac Disease

Posted by

0

ED as a Precursor to Cardiac Disease

Erectile dysfunction is not a trivial symptom and not necessarily normal as men get older. This information for me is new and eye-opening.

After my recent heart issues, surgery and eventual recovery I have spent hours reading various medical articles in addition to my usual Wall Street Journal and New York Times early morning perusal of the newsy items presented there. During one of these excursions I tripped over (my phrase for it) an article about erectile dysfunction which is a topic of discussion every man gets during an annual physical with his primary care person.

In my case it is often phrased – Do you experience erectile dysfunction? And my answer often is – I am a 76 year old man, what do you think? I have often, maybe always, made a joke about it and the young female medical assistant who is filing in the standard questions required by the medical hierarchy laughs along with me.

A few days ago I discovered this gem from the Mayo Clinic. https://www.mayoclinic.org/medical-professionals/urology/news/erectile-dysfunction-a-vital-sign-for-cardiovascular-health/mac-20585074

The 2023 Princeton IV (P4) consensus guidelines bring a game-changing message to clinicians: Erectile dysfunction (ED) is not just a quality-of-life issue but also a red flag for cardiovascular disease (CVD). This multidisciplinary expert panel urges healthcare professionals to view ED as a risk-enhancing marker for silent coronary artery disease (CAD), especially in younger men who appear otherwise healthy. The consensus guidelines were published in a 2024 issue of The Journal of Sexual Medicine.

More: Why ED deserves serious attention

ED often occurs 2 to 5 years before men experience heart attacks. Because the penile arteries are only 1 to 2 mm wide, they’re among the first vessels to show signs of atherosclerosis. In many cases, ED is the earliest — and only — visible symptom of cardiovascular disease.

Wow. Had I an inkling of this connection I would have asked for a cardiac stress test. Or maybe this test referred to next.

The P4 panel recommendations confirm that ED is a strong, independent predictor of cardiac events, even when traditional risk factors such as cholesterol, diabetes and blood pressure are controlled for. In short, ED is the body’s “check engine light” for heart disease.

New guidelines: Reassess risk with better tools

Dr. Kohler and the P4 team advocate using coronary artery calcium (CAC) scoring in patients with ED and borderline (5% to 7.5%) or intermediate (7.5% to 20%) 10-year atherosclerotic CVD risk. This quick, noninvasive CT scan is one of the most sensitive and specific ways to detect subclinical CAD, especially in patients ages 40 to 60, whose risk is often underestimated.

Finding a high CAC score (above 100) can lead to early intervention: statins, aspirin, lifestyle counseling and, in some cases, cardiology referral. This single test can turn a routine men’s health visit into a lifesaving diagnosis.

Too late for me. I found my blockage while riding on my favorite bike trail. I could have found it before that day. I’m complaining about not figuring it out sooner. And perhaps my own complacency is complicit here. PCPs only see their patients once or twice a year and it is up to the patient to discuss the things that are not working correctly. (Men generally are shy about discussing their reproductive equipment. I am no exception.)

Both of my parents had heart problems. Mom had bypass graft surgery in her mid-seventies and lived to be 95.

I miss her whenever I throw away a cardboard box.

Carpe Diem.

Flights to Portland

Posted by

0

After talking to my sister for awhile this morning I fell down the rabbit hole of – How much money to fly two people to Oregon in August? Leaving out the thought of what jet fuel might cost the airlines three months hence I searched the four airlines sites that I usually search before locking down flights to the Pacific Northwest from the Rust Belt in mid to late summer.

It looks like $750 – $800 round trip for the seat I want to sit in for four to five hours. Frontier is still searching. Their website has a cute little circle of death whirly twirly thing going with a brown bear in the middle. They are headquartered in Denver. Their website is afraid to say, “No Flights on those dates”.

Today’s activity will be to see if the Frontier site ever responds to my request. So far it has been 20+ minutes. Expedia responded within seconds. They must own all of the effective coders.

These things, like website efficacy interest me.

In the world of used cars – don’t let the guy who wants to buy something off of the lot get away before making a deal.

I quit waiting for Frontier to get back to me.

Carpe Diem

Scrapbooks and Journaling, Taking Note

Posted by

0

Scrapbooks

I save little snippets, tickets and programs, thinking one day I will create a scrapbook of several of the things that I have done in my life. Why do I do this and why do I never get started? These thoughts jumped into my head as I was sorting through the detritus of pill bottles and the paper that comes with them and reloading my weekly pill box.

This could be a scrapbook, I said to myself as I looked at my cardiac logbook/diary from Mercy Health. I brought this book with me to my last follow-up visit with the cardio-thoracic surgery folks and the NP that I saw that day remarked that people rarely bring the book with them to the doctor. It plainly states to bring this log to the post op visits. Do people not read well?

Do I want a scrapbook of my heart attack? This binder collects everything in one spot. BPs, heart rate, exercise (I lied a little), how many times I blew into the lung gizmo and how many times I sucked on the other lung gizmo. A book that I could open a few years hence and reminisce. Do people do that? Do I want to do that?

Jake the exercise guy came today dismiss me from the follow up exercise program that came with my CABG surgery five weeks ago. He asked me to do a few specific exercises to assess my recovery and during that activity I noticed a small book sticking out from behind my IKEA bookcase I bought several years ago. After the exercise I pulled it from behind the shelves and discovered it was a small photo album that I had purchased for Cheryl many years ago. She had placed in it photographs of the grand children. She did this at the beginning of her dementia years to remember who they were as small children. They were pictures that she liked. As her mind deteriorated she added a few other notes and an obituary of some unknown (to me) person carefully trimmed from the newspaper. She had created a sort of scrapbook.

Now that I have discovered it and recovered it from its hiding place, I will return it to the collection of similar items that I separated from the other random assemblies in her office when she went to stay in memory care.

The small booklet and exercise papers and Jake’s dismissal paper and the Mercy Health binder and log that I meticulously kept up and later discovered the material was dated and they needed to update, I put together on a shelf (and called it macaroni like Yankee doodle). Perhaps one day hence I will look through it all and reminisce. But I suspect not.

Like the closet full of old checks and check statements I think that in a few years I will skim over it and recycle it into the nearest trash receptacle. I will be able to look in the bathroom mirror at my scar and reminisce.

The little picture album with random notes will await my return in the tub of family memories.

Carpe Scrapbook Diem.

Back To Baking

Posted by

0

More Bread Recipes

Recovery gives me a lot of time to think about breads and cooking. It occurs to me that I am more recovered from this heart thing than I realize. I spend more time reading recipes. I have more interest in doing that and making those. It occurs to me that I am once again focused on living.

Changes in attitude are small and subtle.

Interest in in other things beyond yourself and what you feel leads to renewed interest in life.

Two breads: Same Recipe, Different Technique

4-Ingredient Homemade Bread

Only FOUR ingredients! Anyone can make this crusty, bakery-style bread at home. I’m sharing this recipe in exchange for a simple “Yum” — Recipe in First Comment → as you can tell from this text I spent a great deal of empty time cruising through Facebook and YouTube. Both of the next recipes are in the category of what I think of as psuedo-sourdough. Yeast spores exist everywhere. When I get excited in winter to make sourdough I start with whole wheat flour (usually Bob’s Red Mill or King Arthur).

Ingredients

• 3 cups all-purpose flour

• 1½ cups warm water

• 1 tsp salt

• ½ tsp instant yeast (a small amount of yeast, so it will take awhile)

Directions

1. In a bowl, mix flour, salt, and yeast.

2. Add warm water and stir until a sticky dough forms.

3. Cover and let rest 8–12 hours (or overnight – awhile).

4. Preheat oven to 450°F (230°C) with a covered Dutch oven inside.

5. Carefully place dough into the hot pot, cover, and bake 30 minutes.

6. Remove lid and bake 10–15 minutes until golden and crusty.

7. Cool slightly, slice, and enjoy!

Crispy outside, soft inside—no kneading, no stress, perfect every time.– The Facebook comment and it works.

Another…

  • 1 ½ cups warm water
  • 1 tsp yeast
  • 1 tsp sugar
  • 3 cups plain (all purpose) flour
  • 1 tsp salt

1. In the warm water, add your yeast and sugar and stir let it sit for 5 to 10 minutes until foamy (like me this chef likes to proof the yeast in sugar water. Carbs are carbs – I often use a small amount of flour.)

2. Put 3 cups of plain (all purpose) flour in a big bowl. Add one teaspoon of salt and mix. Add your yeast mixture and mix together. Should look like a shaggy mess. Let rest 30 minutes covered

3. Do the stretch and fold clockwise four times turning the dough as you do this, let it sit for 30 minutes and repeat three more times

4. Put the bread in the fridge and let it rest overnight

5. Take the bread out and let it sit to room temperature about one to 2 hours

6. Preheat your oven at 230°C, putting in your pot, which you will cook the bread in. Should (must) have a lid.

7. Put your dough on a flowered bench top and do one last stretch and fold then put it in a bowl with baking paper in it, and let it sit for two hours till it doubles in size (reverse 6 & 7 – my oven does not require 2 hours to heat up.)

8. Put it in your pot score the top of your dough and pop the lid on and into the oven for 30 minutes then take your lid off and cook for another 20 minutes

9. Let bread rest for 10 minutes before devouring – bread is best warm and directly from the oven.

The first reel I watched on Facebook was from a gentleman who measured everything in grams. 500g of flour, 400g of water. He insisted this was best. On my scale 500g of flour is 3 cups of it – maybe a smidge more depending on how it settles in the measuring cup. And 400g of water is 400ml which is a bit more than 1 ½ cups of water, more like 1.69 but close enough as they say.

This recipe has no oil or butter or any other fat which to me merely means you need to use it within 48 hours of baking it. It can be frozen for a couple of days but it becomes croutons pretty quickly.

The whole process is sped up by using the normal amount of yeast for this volume of flour which is about 2 ¼ teaspoons and using bottled water instead of tap water. This is a pretty basic recipe and is referred to as Pain Ordinaire in my bread book. The french knead their bread.

The lid traps much of the moisture in the loaf.

Carpe Diem.

Carpe Diem

Posted by

0

In keeping with my overall theme of seize the moment, I bid farewell to my commentary and narration of my heart attack and subsequent plumbing repairs and the recovery from all of that. God has given me an extended life. What will I do with it?

These past few days and weeks have been remarkably suited for riding. This single fact has caused me to be down a bit. I cannot ride. At first I felt little like riding but as I heal I become more anxious to do it every day. It is a goal. It is a quest. In February and in March I was beginning to ride a few miles and then a mile or so more before the universe made me stop and discover where the pain was coming from.

I need to work on stamina first. It is surprising how winded I get just walking around my little condo’s parking area. But I must pay attention to how my body is healing and what substances will help it to heal. In the hospital I was getting a calcium drip for a couple days. Debbie suggested that I should drink milk and eat cheese to accomplish a similar effect.

The simple joy of chocolate milk, I used to drink this as a child. In the hospital I was given Ensure. I found that the chocolate variety pleased my pallet. There is a chocolate variety of Bailey’s Irish Cream. Those two together can only improve the value and overall flavor profile of chocolate Ensure. This might be adult Ensure. I will try this later.

Mom said to me long ago after one of her hospital stays that Ensure or Boost is not too bad if you mix it with a little milk. It tasted like a low end milk shake.

I will drink more Ensure and maybe add some Bailey’s. And I will walk more. Stay tuned.

Carpe Diem.

Miraculous

Posted by

1

Miraculous Pain in the Ass (a Diary)

Debbie made this comment the other day about my recent myocardial infarction/ angioplasty/ cardio arterial bypass graft activity. I have to agree. I have complained to the medical folks steering my care that I am personally amazed that I do not feel worse than I do. The whole process has been a miraculous pain in the ass (or chest – but I felt little pain in my chest after all the chest tubes came out.)

  • March 19, 2026 – Sun shining, high of 70 or so. A good day to ride the bike and get used to the trail again. Pain in my chest and left arm that I wrote off as winter stiffness and out-of-shapeness, was not to be ignored. I did ignore it for a bit. I stopped at my “turn around” point and sat on a bench along side of the trail.
  • March 20, 2026 – a little pain here and there but nothing of note but distracting enough that I could not ignore. Debbie insisted I make a doctor appointment. I did.
  • March 21, 2026 – Pain in my chest and left arm with a vengeance while I was beginning to assemble a porch glider that was purchased online a few days before. I sat down. Debbie looked at me while I insisted that I did not need anything other than to sit for a bit. The look on her face told me that I should be taking this more seriously.
  • March 21, 2026 – I drove myself and Debbie to the hospital and walked into the ER at Jewish Hospital part of the Mercy Health system in Cincinnati. I announced that I think I am having a heart attack. They brought me a wheelchair and things happened quickly.
  • People work in the hospital on the weekends. This destroyed my theory that nothing would happen before Monday. Nevertheless a cardiologist ordered several diagnostic tests all aimed at discovering why I was feeling what I was feeling. I was put on a hepron drip and aspirin to keep me from plugging up before the eventual solution could be executed.
  • March 22, 2026 – About 5:15 in the afternoon I sent this email message to the stock club membership. — Hey guys; It is unlikely that I will be at the meeting tomorrow. Sorry about the last minute notice but I’m in the hospital. Denny has my proxy. Paul
  • March 23, 2026 – Monday. Early in the morning I had an angioplasty diagnostic test to determine what was wrong. A stint or two was not going to fix me. As previously reported one artery was 99% blocked and another was 95% blocked.
  • March 23, 2026 I was trucked (literally) over to Mercy Anderson where they specialize in cardiac arterial bypass graft surgery (CABG). I took my hepron drip with me.
  • March 23, 2026 – This was the week for CABG surgery. I had to wait for my turn which was scheduled for Friday. I needed it but I was in too good of shape to go first. No one ever said this out loud but the thought was there. I settled into the cardiac care ICU room C221. Debbie stayed with me overnight the night before the surgery.
  • March 27, 2026 – Three days of the cardiac diet in the hospital got me here. The food is not bad it is just boring. Days go slow in the hospital. A cardiac burger has little maybe no salt involved in its cooking. Otherwise it is perfectly edible. “Worth his salt” is a comment from Roman times. Nothing to eat past midnight. I did not miss it.
  • March 27, 2026 – In the late morning Becky a nurse practitioner with big hands joined us in C221 to chat about what was coming soon. The first surgery of the day was going quicker than expected. They would come get me soon. Debbie and I waited. David showed up to wait with me. Sarah showed up to wait with me. They did not come to get me soon. It was more like two hours later.
  • March 27, 2026 – Early afternoon Becky reappeared with another nurse to push me to the operating theater. I scooted onto the operating table. The anesthetist remarked to Becky that I was too high up the table. She grabbed my feet and said she was going to move me down. She did. Big hands. Moments later it was lights out.
  • March 27, 2026 – about 9PM – Wendy from the breathing department said to me, I’m going to do a little suction and then pull the breathing tube out. I was still a little groggy but she did what she said. I was breathing again on my own. Debbie had left my phone and my glasses with the night nurse after peeking through the C221 glass door. I could talk which surprised me a bit. At 9:30PM I called Debbie to report that I was still alive and kicking. I called her first because I knew she would be worried overnight otherwise. We always – since we met – call each other at night to say good night. I actually slept that first night.
  • March 28, 2026 – about 3:30AM – a lab technician showed up to draw blood and make sure that I was awake.
  • March 28, 2026 – About 5AM – two NPs showed up with their very own portable bedside x-ray machine. They sat me up to take a chest picture to be sure I was still screwed together. The My Chart report says yep, all good. They left to go wake up the next patient. The night nurse helped me to sit up in my chair about 6AM. This became my morning routine for the next four days or so.
  • March 28, 2026 – a little after 7AM – rounds. Several bright cheery young women appeared to take over the day shift and find out from the night shift any important stuff about the patient – me. Another morning routine began.
  • March 29, 2026 – 3, 5 & 7AM – pretty much the same as March 28th. The times may be off slightly but the 3:30AM blood draw was very consistent as was the morning x-ray. On this day I think I got a shower in the morning by Austin, Austin is an incredibly gentle nurse on the night shift. Austin stayed in my room overnight March 27-28 after my surgery. He monitored my numbers and laughed when I told Debbie after I woke up, “I’m still alive, baby!”
  • March 29, 2026 – physical therapy folks appeared to get me going and walking a little bit in the room. Occupational therapy showed up to ask a lot of questions about my home and to offer suggestions about staying in the tube.– which is their way for saying do not use your arms for anything like pushing up out of a chair.
  • March 30, 2026 – 3, 5 & 7AM – pretty much the same as March 28 & 29. Either a nurse or a PT person showed up every couple hours to walk me around the hallway. There are practice steps overlooking the hospital lobby. The more I walked, the closer I came to going home. I was feeling better. I found some underwear to put on in my backpack that David had brought. No longer was my butt hanging out for all to see when I walked around.
  • March 31, 2026 – discharge day. Taylor, the day nurse, came in with her trainee, Emily, to go through this book I have been filling in for several days now at home. Scott and David and Zachary came to give me a ride home. Emily went to find a wheel chair to give me a ride to the front so that I could get into my car. Scott had left his car at my house and drove my car to the hospital. I rode home in the back of the car. The medical folks were concerned about the airbags. Zachary went home with Uncle David.
  • April 1, 2026 – April Fools Day – I am home. I do not feel too much from the surgery. A little sore here and there. Debbie came over to stay with me for the next several days. David also stayed with me for a week. Sarah came and made soup. It was heavenly.
  • April 2, 2026 – People came to feed us. Debbie cooked her award winning and legendary meat loaf. Denise, Debbie’s sister, made her special scalloped cheesy potatoes and ham. It was much better than green eggs and ham (Sam I am.) There was a lot of it so Debbie and I ate it for lunch and dinner for a couple days. I think I ate the last of it a week or so later.
  • April 3, 2026 – Kristin, a work friend of Debbie’s, brought her special soup also called Paula Dean’s chicken noodle soup. It was excellent even though Kristin made it without the alcoholic beverage in it. In case you were wondering – see below
    • For the Stock;
      • 2 1⁄2 to 3 pounds broiler-fryer chicken, cut up
      • 3 1⁄2 quarts water
      • 1 onion, peeled and diced
      • 2 teaspoons Italian seasoning
      • 1 teaspoon lemon-pepper seasoning
      • 3 garlic cloves, minced
      • 4 bay leaves
      • 3 chicken bouillon cubes
      • Kosher salt, to taste
      • Freshly ground black pepper, to taste
    • For the Soup
      • 7 cups sliced carrots
      • 2 cups sliced celery, leaves included
      • 2 1⁄2 cups uncooked egg noodles
      • 1 cup sliced mushrooms
      • 3 tablespoons parsley, chopped
      • 1⁄3 cup cooking sherry
      • 2 teaspoons fresh rosemary leaves, chopped
      • 1 cup grated Parmesan cheese
      • 3⁄4 cup heavy cream, optional
      • Salt and pepper, to taste
      • Crusty French bread, for serving
  • April 4, 2026 – I found the ice cream in the freezer. This is the beginning of 4 long weeks of no driving and depending on my kids and others to drive me around. Debbie kept telling me how good I was doing. I think she meant that I was not complaining about my lot in life.
  • April 5, 2026 – Easter Sunday. I stayed home. Although I was feeling better each day, I did not feel up to church. I thanked God for Debbie and her persistence at chasing me to the hospital to be checked out.
  • April 6 – 10, 2026 – Debbie went back to work. David hung on for a couple more nights and ultimately moved home. I was on my own for a few nights.
  • April 10, 2026 – Debbie returned for the weekend and to be sure I did my exercises. Over time she has arranged her working schedule so that she has a 4 day weekend. During this time in our relationship she has cleared her grandmotherly duties to take care of me. For that I will be forever grateful. On this day we resumed our charcuterie board lunch and planning session for the rest of the weekend.
  • April 11, 2026 – It was a great day for a walk in the park so we did just that. We chilled for most of the weekend.
  • April 13, 2026 – Debbie returned to her grandmotherly duties during the day. We went to dinner in the evening.
  • April 14, 2026 – Debbie returned to work. The physical therapy sessions continued and the visiting nurse came to assess my progress. Rhonda laughed when I told her that Debbie referred to her as the exercise nazi.
  • April 14 – 17, 2026 – I continued a routine of taking care of myself. Showering everyday and gently washing my chest wound. Monitoring my blood pressure and heart rate. Getting up to walk in the parking lot. I did not do this as much as the log book wanted me to do that but it is a boring activity and occasionally I napped instead.
  • April 19, 2026 – Sunday. Debbie and I went to the Kenwood Theater to see “Hail Mary” a peculiar movie about some sort of star eating bacteria and one man’s quest to solve the problem. Entertaining but an odd story line.
  • April 22, 2026 – Wednesday – The anniversary of Cheryl’s death. Scott, Zachary and I went to visit Cheryl’s columbarium niche. Her flowers are in full bloom.

Debbie remarked that this has been a miraculous pain in the ass a couple days ago and she is right. It still feels strange to me that I am feeling so good after the surgery that was performed on me. I had two bypass grafts added to my heart plumbing by Dr. Lynn Seto who is, apparently, a skilled heart surgeon.

Dr. Seto, thank you and your team for your excellence.

Carpe Diem.

A Couple More Days

Posted by

0

Seems like every time I want to close my eyes for a small little tiny nap some health person is encouraging me to get up and move around.

Today the occupational therapist had a gap in her schedule and just as I pushed my chair back to NAP position the phone ran.

May I come and assess your functionality? Sure why not. I will be here.

It actually makes me laugh. All the attention about a little thing like cardiac arterial bypass graft surgery. CABG “cabbage” is the term used by the cutters. All week long I have kind of complained a little that I did not feel all that bad and that is true. Most of that seems to be due to something described as a freezing nerve block that will wear off over time as my body heals.

Every day is a bit better and today is much better.

Today on the way home from the cardiothorasic surgery visit we stopped at one of my favorite diner chili parlors to get a 5-way for lunch. If you live in southwest Ohio you do not need more description.

Carpe Diem.

3 AM Sometimes

Posted by

0

Day Six and Beyond

A major surgery makes one think about things one might not think about.

I awoke from a nap this afternoon wondering what God had in mind. I imagine that we all have these thoughts occasionally. What is the big picture? Or is there a picture? I could feel the love from people near me in my life.

Love is a powerful emotion. It is freely given.

The person that I am with, Debbie, is staying with me to help me through this piece of the recovery journey. After Cheryl’s death I did not think that I would feel the same way for anyone again. Debbie makes me happy. It is that simple. Loving someone is a connection between souls. It is deeper. She is here with me through this recovery and I am more concerned for her health and well being than my own. Love is a two-way street.

Last night a spontaneous gathering arose as David, doing his master chef on the grill, invited his brother and family to join us. Love was in the air then too.

My sister and I talk every day. This is something we have not done since we were children. There are three time zones between us which adds certain amount of thought process on my eastern end when I want to initiate a communication. It seems to work out though. Love figures into the process.

It is as though the love that I radiated out during my previous life before my heart attack is returned as I need it. A simple beautiful concept, love the people around you and they will love you back.

These past few days as I recover post-surgery, I am overwhelmed by love.

I am grateful.

Carpe Diem.

Days Four and Five

Posted by

0

Fourth day and Home

Open heart surgery – cracked open my chest – the whole thing – has come a long way since Mom had it many years ago.

I woke up about 9pm after surgery on Friday. The breathing specialist took the plastic tube out of my mouth and lungs. A little one, two, three and its out. Wow I am hoping to never have that experience again. There were four other drain tubes still in. two around my lungs, two around my heart. And to keep with the twos I had a double bypass.

I could talk so the first thing I did was call Debbie when the night nurse whose name was Austin gave me the phone it was great to hear her voice and I knew she would sleep better knowing that I was still my annoying self. I thought she would spread the word that Paul was back.

What a long slog this will be. The nurses and physical therapy folks – Emma and Amy – don’t leave you alone. The first day was simply sit in a hospital recliner chair until its too much. And they talked about keeping my elbows near my body, move in the tube is phrase that they use to help you remember. When they cut your pectoral muscles and your breast bone apart, your body tells you. There is that little pulling sensation in your chest that says – hey, hey, hey we are are healing down here – that will remind you to be careful.

On the Fifth day

What a remarkable feeling it is to sleep in one’s own bed. There is the added bonus of not getting poked in the arm somewhere at 3:15AM because they need another blood test. The chest x-rays at 5AM were also reduced to none at home.

I am truly amazed at my own progress.

I think I will stop here but God taught me two things; exercise is good for all recovery and do not ignore chest pain. I do have a greater appreciation of life.

Carpe Diem.