Monday, May 7, 2012

GOING TO SEED…


During a backyard ramble the other day, I photographed the above aging dandelion head. Time has wrought it's inevitable changes. The bright yellow bloom is long gone. And the fuzzy, spherical mature head, with its multitude of single-seeded fruits, each attached to a downy, parachute-like pappus, has certainly seen better days. Wind and rain, heat and cold, have each taken their toll.

It should also be said this is all according to plan, the natural order of the dandelion's life. To everything there is a season…

I thought about this bedraggled dandelion head when I sat down to write this post, because I feel about the way it looks—storm-battered, losing my seed, a bit matted and droopy. Actually, I've been tired for a long time—unnaturally so—lacking in energy for months and easily exhausted. And it's all been getting gradually worse. The diagnosis is heart—not pumping function or blockage but speed. My heart beats way too slow. 

Like my father, I've had a rather slow resting heart rate all my life—generally averaging something like 55 beats-per-minute (BPM) as opposed to most people who average 72 BPM. This in and of itself is not necessarily an issue. Athletes often have slow resting heart rates—some astonishingly low. I wasn't exactly an athlete, but I was highly active and could easily hoist a 52-pound camera pack, grab a 12-pound tripod, and along with maybe a fly rod, some fishing gear, and a few snacks, set off on a 20-mile round-trip hike into the remote Appalachian backcountry for a day's worth of picture taking and brook trout tempting—and I could do it all over the following day, and the day after. My slow-waltz heartbeat worked just fine.

But those 55 BPM have now slowed to the low 30s, even dipping down to 29 BPM during the 24-hours when I wore a Holter monitor last week. Obviously my ever-increasing fatigue is due to the slower pump delivering a shortage of energy-giving oxygenated blood to my cells. Not to mention that 29 beats per minute is skirting dangerously close to the point of losing consciousness…if not life.

The fix is a pacemaker. It won't turn back the clock to those marathon backcountry heavy-pack hiking days, but I ought to feel a bit better and at least my heartbeat won't be dipping down into the possible check-out rate. 

While it isn't exactly minor surgery, it's minimally invasive, routine, and generally safe—or as safe as poking wires into your heart can be. Not that it honestly made all that much difference as to my decision. I understand the procedure and am comfortable with the risks, regardless of the actual outcome. But bottom line, I'm tired of being so tired. 

Myladylove and I have had our talks. She knows me better than anyone, knows what I want and need to be happy. And loves me enough to let me decide. That's a rare woman and an uncommon gift. When I discussed everything with the surgeon this afternoon (who it happens is a Nikon man and possibly budding nature photographer) he gave me the option of waiting a while and thinking things over. No, I said, the sooner he could schedule, the better. So it looks like maybe within the next couple of weeks. 

Your prayers and thoughts will be appreciated. I'll keep you posted…and write about other matters in the meantime. 

However this turns out, it will be an adventure.
———————

30 comments:

bonifer said...

Grizz, know that we will all be thinking good thoughts for you and you will be in our prayers, hoping you are back to your 'old' self quickly and everything goes as planned. Looking forward to reading you posts as your recuperate. take care...

George said...

Good luck on your adventure, Grizz, and may all be well as your return to full flower and abundant vitality. You will certainly be in my thoughts and prayers. Be forewarned, however, that if all goes well with this procedure—and I'm confident it will—you will no longer have any excuses for avoiding all of that work that demands you attention. For the meantime, stay away from the completion of that retaining wall. Best wishes, my friend.

The Weaver of Grass said...

I have several friends who have had pacemakers fitted Grizz and their lives have been transformed by it - so my thoughts and good wishes are with you - I know you will be so pleased to get it done.

Penny said...

I had wondered, may you go well on your new adventure, I will be thinking of you and sending all the good vibes I can.

Wanda..... said...

You will be in my thoughts and prayers, Grizz. When reaching our age, we do have decisions to make, that we'd rather not have to consider. My husband has similar health issues and is hospitalized at the moment, for a different minor issue though. Your blog is one of only 3 that he religiously reads, of course I introduced 'you' to him. Your long time blogging friend...though quiet sometimes...Wanda.

Grizz………… said...

Bonifer…

Thank you. I'm just hoping to get this show on the road. Barring complications, recovery shouldn't take long—although I'm not going to be allowed to drive for a month! THAT'S going to be tough. But I'll managed to get up the road and into some fields and woods one way or the other, and there's the river and all at my doorstep.

I will be posting, for sure—both before and after. I enjoy doing this blog, and thankfully, it fits right in with my post-operative activities.

Grizz………… said...

George…

Thank you. I'm confident, too…and am certainly at the point where any sort of attempt at improvement is to be embraced and welcomed. Nothing would please me more than to find my energy quadrupled, and be able to then do so many of the tasks around here that need doing—as well as get into working on a couple of writing and photography projects I've had to put on hold.

BTW, I did finish that retaining wall—on the day before I got fitted up with the Holter monitor. (Yup, all in case it showed something that caused the medical powers to say I couldn't go yanking and dragging those railroad ties. No, really because I wanted to keep my promise and finish the job…just in case.) Smashed my right ring finger on the last positioning move of the very last tie, too—and it's still slightly swollen and in fading shades of purple-black. Hurt like the dickens!

Grizz………… said...

Weaver…

Thank you. I also have heard from friends of friends who've had pacemakers implanted—and all love them. I guess, given my particular situation, any improvement I feel afterwards is not apt to be quite so dramatic—but I'll take whatever I get and be happy about it. And it might, indeed, turn out better than expected.

Grizz………… said...

Penny…

Thank you. Prayers, thoughts, wishes, vibes—I'll take whatever I can get, and be most grateful for each and every one.

giggles said...

Oh Grizzz!!!! I expect it'll do the trick and you'll be up and at 'em feeling better than your old self soon!!! Cheers to you. You'll be in my thoughts and prayers!!!

Grizz………… said...

Wanda…

Thank you so much. As you know your lovely and personable blog was one of the ones I admired and was inspired by before creating Riverdaze…and I think it's just as wonderful today. Good blogs always reflect the character of their creator—and I don't think anyone who reads your "Moments of Mine" has any doubt regarding your goodness and honesty and creative soul. I'm grateful for your friendship.

I know your husband has been through his own health issues, and that they were far more serious than mine. Though we've never met, I thought about him the other day when mulling over my own mess and trying to keep things in their proper perspective. We never know what a day will bring…but one thing life teaches is how precious each and every day is, and that we should never waste our time on the negatives or take our days for granted. Please tell him that I'll absolutely keep him in my prayers, and that I wish him the best and speediest recovery.

Grizz………… said...

Giggles…

Thank you…and I certainly hope you're right. I'd like to feel better than my old self, because my recent old self hasn't felt all that great.

Gail said...

HI GRIZZ - well, I guess when one compares ones-self to a wilting dandelion I really pay attention. Although you need only say "hello" and my senses come alive. I want you to know that you are on a prayer line of a group of older church ladies and they are praying for all good outcomes. And for your surgeons and your Lady Love too. The whole entourage. And me too, I am praying and sending love and good energy out to you on the river.
Loving you
Gail
peace and hope for us all

Grizz………… said...

Gail…

Hey, I feel like a wilting dandelion—look it, too. Not that I ever made much of a dandelion in the looks department.

You tell your church ladies on the prayer line that I really appreciate being put on their list, and welcome their prayers for not only myself, but everyone else. As I do yours. Couldn't ask for more. Thank you.

AfromTO said...

I think you might be one of God's favourites as you write and care about his nature's handiworks-so no doubt He will be giving you this opportunity to continue reminding everyone how wonderful the world is that he created.I think you will fly thru this so there will be a few more years to keep spreading the word of the beauty and bounty that surrounds you.Wishing you a safe recovery and a speedy heart.♥♥♥

Grizz………… said...

AfromTO…

I'll happily continue sharing the wonder of nature and the outdoor life with anyone who'll listen for as long as I'm given the mission. God has always been good to me and blessed me more than I've ever deserved. Honestly, whatever His plans for my future may be, I'm good with 'em.

Thank you. For everything.

Rowan said...

I'll be thinking of you as you go through this procedure, I'm sure that all will be well and that you will soon be feeling full of energy again.

Wanda..... said...

Thank you for such a kind reply...Richard came home last evening, mending well.

Grizz………… said...

Rowan…

Thank you. I'd sure like to have a bit more zip back. Time to kick up the beat.

Grizz………… said...

Wanda…

That's really great news! I know he's tickled to be home and not in the hospital. Tell him to take care, mend well, and live with the intention of enjoying the blessings of every single day.

KGMom said...

Scribe, well--the heart is the center of healthy living, isn't it? If it beats as it should, all is well. When it misbehaves, then things go awry.
Having had a year of experiencing atrial fibrillation, I can attest to the fact that one's heart needs to function properly.
I will be thinking of you, & your ladylove as you go through the weeks ahead. Here's to all's well that ends well.

Robin said...

Keepin' Heaven busy. It's good to get His attention early.

Grizz………… said...

KGMom…

I appreciate the thoughts and all—and understand the "fun" of A-fib. The heart does set the rhythm for life's dance, and like any good timekeeper, to get the most from your turn around the ballroom, it must maintain the beat.

Thank you.

Grizz………… said...

Robin…

Yup, no use suddenly needing to state your case and finding you gotta take a number and wait in line. Best to pre-registar. Thank you. :-)

Scott said...

Good luck, Grizz. My failing father has had two pacemaker surgeries of late--the second because the first didn't work. He's 87 and in terrible shape, and he came through the surgeries alright; you should by just fine!

Grizz………… said...

Scott…

Well, that's comforting…I think. :~\

No, really, I feel okay about this—but I'm thoroughly bummed about not being able to drive for a month—and I probably won't be able to do a lot of the chores around the cottage that I'd planned, either. Of course if I don't do the pacemaker, I won't be doing much of anything other than a bit of composting.

Thank you.

AfromTO said...

Composting that is so funny!!!

Grizz………… said...

AfromTO…

In spite of the new pacemaker I believe was still into a bit of the composting mode…at least until I got back to the cottage and managed an awkward-but-serviceable clean-up in the bathroom sink. (No showers for two weeks!)

AfromTO said...

No showers for 2 weeks -I think your ladylove will have to throw you into the river for a refresher.

Grizz………… said...

AfromTO…

They just don't want me to do anything that might increase the risk of site infection. Plus it's only until the Steri-Strip skin closures they used in place of stitches, come off on their own.

Besides, I've spent enough time living out the back of a pickup, on the road, and in wilderness camps, to know how to do a pretty good no-tub/no-shower bath and clean-up…but I'm still going to miss the showers. (I can't speak for anyone who might venture close.)