Realizations

Realizations

Last entry was an introduction to me and the whirlwind trip of January and Febuary 2008 when I went from healthy guy to "heart transplant guy". It was not until I was at the UW that I had any type of realization of what exactly was going on. When the doc said you need a transplant I changed. Looking back on the events in hindsight it make sense what was going to happen. But obviously there would not be a blog if I just got better and went on my merry way.
For the first couple of weeks I was convinced that I would be back in the fire companies in a couple of weeks. There is no “smoking gun” from the biopsy that they did on my heart when I was cracked open. The medical term is idiopathic, or unknown. We are sorry Mr. Goforth but we cannot give you a reason why your heart blew up. But you hope for the best and fight.

When they made the discovery they put you on a lot of medications to help the heart pump more efficiently, move out any extra fluid, and keep your pressure low so that your heart has a chance to recover. But the side effect of these medications is that you feel like poop. It is like the air you move into turns to jello and you are slowly trying to move through it. If anyone has seen the old “Taxi” episode when they try to get the pot head to pass the drivers test and he is cheating on the test asking his friend “what does a yellow light mean” response “slow down” response “wwhhhaaattt dddoooeesss aaa yyyeelllooowww lliiiggghhtttt mmeeaaann?” you get the picture.

What I was doing was treading water. Then after a couple of weeks I was too sick even to be on light duty. I hurt all day all over. I would fill up with fluid and would puke every couple of hours at night. I remember finally just puking in the kitchen sink with the family in the living room watching tv. I could stay more upright and not have to bend over so far to puke. Then I would not feel so dizzy. How could a family of people in the EMS community not pick up on that this is sick. Well we did call every day and tell the clinic that I was sick. But its flu season, about a zillion people calling in for the same thing. I don’t think I really opened my eyes that much in the last couple days of that, it seemed like too much work. I would just try to freeze in a position that did not hurt or did not make me feel like crap. But what would I say when Julie or someone asked me how I was doing? “I am alright” response “No you are not”, my response “it is just the medications.”

Julie knew better and we would go to the clinic or the ER . During the day I would feel a little better and like everyone you try not to look like a wimp and you put your best foot forward when you are in public. The clinic/ER would say you need to see your cardiologist and the cardiologist would say go to the ER/clinic if you are acutely sick. They were doing what they could but really the clinic/ER is there to stabilize and not for long term care. The cardiologist is there to unwrap the big rubber band ball that was my condition. It was happening very quickly and I was still on the slope that comes before the cliff.

How do you tell your wife and look at your two boys and say that you had rather be dead than be in your current state. How do you arrive at that feeling without thinking that you must be the most selfish jerk on the planet. I have so many blessings in my life that I must really be losing it to be even considering this. But I was at the point that I was not functioning. I was existing but not living. I hurt. I felt like a burden. I could not think past my current pain because it was overwhelming.

Rich from the fire department called to check on me in the evening. I had worked with him and he was a straight shooter. When Julie gave him the skinny his answer was “should we come and pick him up right now?” That tells you that things had progressed which is hard to see when you are in it watching the decline. I did not want to bother anyone or cause trouble, SO I said absolutely not, I would not go. By the next morning I said I would go which caused a lot more trouble because of the shift change and what not. I should have just gone in the first place.
SO, in I went. The nurses were waiting when I got there because they had advance notice that I would be showing up. The fellas were waiting for me when I got there. The chief was there which was nice, but that worried me a little. Once I was in the room and saying that I was alright, I saw that I was not. The medics would just look at me and then at the monitor, I would not 'cause I could not turn that far and I did not want to see it anyway.

The Everett guys took me down to Harborview. I remember finally feeling like I could get some rest because they had given me some good stuff that took the pain away. Problem is that I relaxed so much that I remember someone saying “Steve….Breathe” a few times. This happens sometimes when you give pain meds because your target dose is different for everyone and everyone reacts differently. The medic has over 25 years under his belt and knew that stimulation would get me to breathe and that the effects would wear off quckly. But I remember thinking “JUST LET ME SLEEP DUDE….I BREATHE ALL THE TIME DUDE AND I DON’T NEED YOU TO REMIND ME…ITS MY HEART THAT IS THE PROBLEM FOR CHRISTS SAKE…”

The next week for me was sedation and a kind of “Alice in Wonderland skit” My eyes would pop open and I would see someone I knew, then I was out. They would pop open, I would see someone I did not know, then bye bye. A nurse would ask if would like some more ativan, I say sure, night night. Pink dinosaurs and scary clowns…okay now I am exaggerating….