Tag: #age

Living with AFIB

Living with AFIB

I’ve had Atrial Fibrillation (AFIB) since the summer of 2012, when I was bitten by a copperhead snake. Normally, it’s not a problem, but in February of this year, I had an incident that sent me to the Emergency Room and on a two month journey of heart tests. The result? Well….

It happened on Valentine’s Day (insert bad joke about broken heart here). Actually, it started around the 10th of February, when I stood up from the couch and walked into the kitchen and almost fainted. I just figured I’d risen to quickly and didn’t think much more about it. Then, on the 13th, I felt dizzy just while sitting, although the feeling went away relatively quickly. However, as the day went on, I felt worse, in an undefined sort of way. The next day, the 14th, I wasn’t any better. I checked my pulse and blood pressure several times, and they were, um, wildly variable is probably a good way to say it. Finally, in the afternoon, I called our friend Janet, a most excellent nurse. She listened to what I had to say, was concerned about a couple of the numbers, and advised me to go to the ER to be on the safe side.

Cathy and I talked, and I decided to drive myself to the ER (perhaps not the smartest thing to do) at Fauquier Health in Warrenton, and arrived without incident. When I described at checkin what was going on, they moved me to a room within five minutes, tops. The ER doctor and nurse were both outstanding. In a matter of minutes, they administered the first three, of what would ultimately be ten heart related tests over the next two months.

In the ER, they gave me an EKG, a blood test and a chest X-ray. The blood test and X-ray were both normal. The EKG showed AFIB and nothing else – no stroke and no heart attack. In the meantime, I was feeling more normal – whatever it was, had passed.

The ER doctor talked to the on-call cardiologist from my regular cardiologist’s office and they took me off of one drug (Metoprolol, a beta blocker, which reduces your heart rate), thinking that may have caused the dizziness. He then discharged me and told me not to drive until I could see my cardiologist. I explained I drove myself to the ER, and he looked at me and said “I didn’t hear that”.

I didn’t drive for the next week, but having no subsequent incidents, did drive to the appointment with my cardiologist, Doctor Shah. We reviewed what happened, and then he scheduled a number of tests.

First up? Wearing a Mobile Cardiac Telemetry Monitor for five days. The monitor is a sort of portable EKG type device which continually monitored my heart 24 hours a day for five days. The result? Nothing apparent, other than my normal AFIB.

Next up? Tests five, six and seven – an Abdominal Aorta Ultrasound, a Renal Artery Ultrasound and a Leg Blood Flow Ultrasound and Study. The results? No ballooning, blockages, closures, or reductions in any of the major arteries leaving the heart and subsequently going to the kidneys and legs. In other words, the major arteries all looked normal.

Let’s keep things moving along….

Test eight was a CT Cardiac Calcium Scoring Scan. This is a scan of the heart that looks for deposits of calcium in and around the heart. Calcium leads to blockages, and this isn’t good. The results? Uh oh. There’s some calcium found. BUT, it turns out just about all people my age have some calcium. The test results go on to say “the total calcium score of 29 is between the 0 and 25 percentile for males between the ages of 65 and 69. This means 0 percent of people this age and gender had less calcium than was detected in this study.” —whew—

Test nine – back to the hospital for a Heart Stress Test. This is essentially a type of EKG while walking or running on an inclined treadmill for a period of time. With all the walking I do on the hills near the farm, this should be a no brainer. Except it isn’t. Something trips about 7 minutes into the test, indicating there may be an issue and I may have a constriction somewhere blocking blood flow around the heart. After they stop the treadmill, they continue to monitor my heart, which returns to normal quickly. Hmmmm. The doctor thinks this may have just been a false positive, particularly since I was wearing a mask during the test (this was in the time of Covid after all).

The test result goes to DR Shah, and he and I have a conference call. Looking at the result, he thinks it might be a false positive as well. He suggests one more test, so we can verify one way or another.

And so, it’s on to test ten – A CT Angio Coronary Test Without Calcium Scoring. For this test, I go to another hospital, a bit farther away. I can have nothing to eat or drink prior to the test. They inject me with iodine and take a series of CT scans of the heart.

Two days go by, and then the results arrive. “No significant stenosis identified. Small area of calcification noted in the left anterior descending which also did not have a corresponding area of narrowing within the artery.” For us lay people, stenosis is the narrowing of an artery or heart valve. We already knew there was a bit of calcification from the Calcium Scoring Scan, so nothing new there. The good news is there is “no significant stenosis”. The doctor is happy with the results, and pronounces my heart to be OK. We talk about diet*, as we always do, and schedule my next appointment, several months from now.

The ol’ Ticker is Looking OK…..

One of the phrases I never pictured using in my life is “My cardiologist said….”. And yet, here we are.

Did the Metoprolol cause the fainting/dizziness? The doctor isn’t sure, but we are keeping me off the Metoprolol for now. My heartbeat has stayed in the normal range without the drug, even though the actual rate varies continually.

So, here I sit over two and a half months later, pondering this recent journey. Part of me is thinking – “What the hell, ten tests!? That’s crazy!” And part of me is thinking “Ten tests, and we still don’t really know what happened.” And part of me is thinking “Ten tests, and they all pretty much show my heart (other than the AFIB) and arteries are in good health. I should be thankful.” The engineer in me says “ten tests and now we have a good baseline for all of these areas.”

All things considered, I am thankful. There’s a history of heart problems in my family – my dad and one of my sisters both had strokes and an uncle and two cousins died of strokes. From my perspective, any good news on heart stuff, is just plain good news and I’ll take it.

I’ve felt fine since the Valentine’s Day visit to the ER, so maybe it was the Metoprolol. Or, maybe it’s something else lurking around, waiting for another opportunity to complicate things, but I’m not worrying about that right now. I have too much living to do, to let this slow me down.

Oh, and one other thing. I did learn a new word. “Syncope.” Syncope is the medical term for fainting or “passing out.” It’s the temporary loss of consciousness, usually related to insufficient blood flow to the brain. So, while I thought this all started with a near fainting episode, it was actually a syncope issue…. ;-).

Addendum:

If you want to read about my encounter with the Copperhead, you can find it here: https://mnhallblog.wordpress.com/2017/07/30/copperhead-hunting-in-flip-flops/

*Diet – My cardiologist would prefer that I was a vegetarian. I don’t see that happening any time soon. Having said that, Cathy and I both eat healthily – lots of salads, vegetables and fruits. Not much beef or pork. A bit more chicken, and a fair amount of seafood. We’ve greatly reduced dairy – I don’t drink milk, and now eat cheese only on special occasions. We’ve also reduced carbs significantly. Bread and pasta have become a rarity. When we have rice, it’s usually brown rice. Potatoes? We have them at one restaurant we go to, where I apparently can’t resist them, and maybe once a month at home. Neither of us have ever been dessert fans. As my cooking has expanded, I find myself gravitating to Indian, Korean and stir fry dishes – much of it, but not all, vegetarian. My diet isn’t perfect, but I believe it’s healthier than about 90% of America. I realize that’s not a particularly high bar.

The Stone House in the Woods

The Stone House in the Woods

There is an old house/cabin in the woods about a half mile from where we live. It was never in great shape, but the owner, Bill Harben, passed away a few years ago, and now the house is slowly sliding back to nature. He built the mostly stone house by hand when he was in the States and not stationed overseas.

It remained a work in progress until the year he died.

Both Bill, and the house, have an interesting history. Bill worked for the State Department as a Foreign Service Officer from the 50s through the 70s. He started on the house during the 60s, between overseas assignments. After he retired in the seventies, he moved permanently to the DC area, and then worked on the place on weekends or other off times. It was slow going, and to be honest, I think he thought of the project mostly as mental therapy. He wasn’t in any particular hurry to finish it and wasn’t ever going to live there. It was merely a getaway.

The First View of the Cabin When Approaching Through the Woods

We first met Bill around 2001. I’d see him driving down the gravel road past our place, or run across him while hiking in the woods. He was probably in his late seventies at the time and still adding stone work to the house.

We became friends of sorts and had him to our home for a few dinners or parties, and were guests at his cabin several times during the summer months. He would have friends (usually ladies) out from “the city” for a cookout. He was an incredibly charming and urbane man, and I think he enjoyed the shock his guests almost always showed on first seeing the roughness of his retreat.

The Front Door

The house was unique, with no apparent master plan. Bill did all of the work entirely by hand. There was no access to the property except for a narrow dirt and grass road and then a trail. It was impossible for big equipment to access and help with the construction. The stonewalls? All the stones were from the property and Bill moved them with a wheelbarrow to the house location. He then put them in place by hand, slowly building the walls up. The floor was made from stone on the property as well. The timbered parts of the home? The logs were from the surrounding woods – Bill cut the trees, and hand hewed them to fit together.

it was a rough house, with no electricity. His water came from a small spring on the property. He did have an indoor toilet, and there was actually a small septic field. A huge stone fireplace heated the “great room”, but nothing else. Light was by candle or lantern.

Bill added many artifacts and mementos to the house from his time overseas. Some were classic, others just odd. There were statues, tiles, old lamps, even a huge antique German Bible. He also imbedded some of the items in the walls. It was quite the eclectic place.

A Few of the Items at the House or Mounted in the Walls

When having cookouts at his place, stories would inevitably come out from his time overseas, and as with many storytellers, they were usually about some funny incident with a twist. With postings in Germany, Austria, Cambodia, Russia, Rawanda and Mexico he had plenty of good source material.

I remember two stories he treated a bit more seriously. He spoke about the time he escorted “Mrs Kennedy” (that would be Jacqueline Kennedy) around Mexico when she visited the country. He didn’t share details, and instead spoke about what a wonderful lady she was. The other story involved how and why his career in the Foreign Service derailed. In the early ‘70s, he and Henry Kissinger had “a falling out” over the conduct of the war in Indochina. Bill was head of the Embassy’s Political Section in Cambodia at the time and Kissinger was Secretary of State under Nixon. Bill ended up on the short end of the stick for that one.

Once when we were visiting, I asked if I could use the bathroom. You needed to walk through his “bedroom” to reach the bathroom. There was a really strange mural in the room, and I also noticed a small painting of Confederate General Robert E. Lee hanging over the bed. It struck me as odd at the time, so when I rejoined Bill and his guests out by the grill, I said “Bill, I have to ask. What’s with the picture of Lee over the bed? You never struck me as a “Lost Cause” type of guy.”

Bill chuckled, and then explained “Years ago, when I was first building the cabin, I would sometimes be gone for months or years in between visits. At the time, there weren’t many homes in this area, it was all woods and fields. Some “good ol’ boys” would be out hunting, and come across the cabin. Inevitably, they’d break in, drink beer and trash the place. I thought about it for awhile, and then decided to hang up the picture of Lee. I knew they’d probably still break in, but once they saw the picture of “Bobby Lee” they’d be more respectful and wouldn’t destroy the place.” He laughed, and then said “It turned out I was right….”

The Mural Still Hangs in the Bedroom, but the Picture of “Bobby Lee” has Disappeared.

Bill passed away a few years ago. He was in his late 80s or early 90s at the time. We probably hadn’t seen him for a couple of years, and I knew he had health issues. I heard later that he moved from his condo in Crystal City to assisted living somewhere else.

My wife, Cathy, talks about how every time an older person dies, it’s like a library burning down. All the knowledge and stories are just gone. I’m glad I was able to spend some time with the Harben Branch Library before it disappeared.

Addendum:

If you want to read an oral version of Bill Harben’s career, you can find it at the link here. It’s a pretty interesting read of one man’s upfront view as a Foreign Service Officer during the Cold War: https://www.adst.org/OH%20TOCs/Harben,%20William%20N.toc.pdf

Old Friends – Dunny, Howard, June and Ben

Old Friends – Dunny, Howard, June and Ben

I’ve been honored to enjoy many great friendships over the years. Maybe due to Covid, or maybe because I am closer to the end rather than the beginning of my life, I’m more aware of that good fortune. What I feel most blessed about though, is the continuing close friendship with my childhood buddies, Tim, Kim and Mark.

New Years Eve, 1978. Mark, Howard, Tim and I appear to be doing fine.

Mark recently sent a photo of the four of us on New Years Eve, 1978. It’s a classic New Years Eve picture. Slightly blurry, it captures us at about 3AM on January 1st, and, perhaps, slightly inebriated. Plainly we are having a good time. Although we aren’t thinking of it, our youth has passed, and our adult lives stretch out in front of us. Looking at the picture now, 42 years later, I think about our friendship and the transience of our time on this earth.

Kim, Tim, Mark and Max are also known by the nicknames Howard, June, Dunny and Ben in some circles. Those guys have been my friends forever. I first met Howard and June at about three years old in Sunday School. Kindergarten followed. Mark was a couple of years later, through Boy Scouts and youth football. I sometimes think because all of us had only sisters as siblings, we became closer over the years. Friends replacing the brothers we never had…

For the four of us, there are too many good times to count, whether in grade school, high school, college or the real world. We know and accept each other as we are, and have remained friends throughout. You might have thought with me going to West Point or serving overseas in Germany for a decade, the relationships would have faded, but they never did. Neither time, nor distance, have dimmed the closeness I feel for these guys.

Living in Virginia, I don’t see the three of them as often as they see each other, but we still make good times happen when we are together. And of course, when together, in addition to making new memories, we tell stories of the old times. Sometimes, just a name, word or phrase are all we need to generate smiles or ripples of laughter – Farrell, Wrong-Way LeBeau, The Ottawa Gluttons, The Great Wisconsin Tent Mystery, Sam’s, Wolfgang, the White Sox, certain meals or nights in Chicago…. While several of the memories are of the four of us together, many are only of two or three of us doing something. We’ve all heard the stories so often by now, it’s as if we were all at all of the events. The stories grow stale to some, but not to us. They are the chronicle of our past and the evidence to each other that we have tried to live life fully.

We are all lucky enough to have wonderful partners. Our friendships have expanded during our four marriages and one divorce. Some friendships survive neither marriage nor divorce.

Currently, one of us has serious health issues. With Covid, we can’t just rush to his side to somehow help, or try to help, or just commiserate. And so we text, email and call each other, often on a daily basis. It’s not the same as being there, but I like to think it helps him, and I know it helps me. Our communal history is a comfort that binds us beyond words.

I’ve been blessed with many great friendships over the years. From family relationships, my home town of Ottawa, West Point, the Army, neighbors, our running group, the horse world, politics… the list goes on. Tim, Howard and Mark? At the end of the movie, Stand By Me, the character played by Richard Dreyfuss says “I never had any friends later on like the ones I had when I was 12. Jesus, does anyone?” I count myself beyond lucky that my friends “when I was 12” have remained my good friends to this day. I love these guys. They are the brothers I never had.

Addendum: Thanks to Mark for sending the photo – it really did help start and formulate some things I’d been thinking about for awhile.