near death

I found this in my drafts folder and apparently whatever or whoever I was writing it for didn't get it because it was still in my drafts folder.  So, here's what I wrote...

 

My family has a history of heart disease, which is the number one risk factor, except for eating bacon sandwiches dipped in bacon grease with a side of fat every day of your life.  My grandfather, who I never knew, died of a heart attack at the age of 44.  My father's brother died of a heart attack at the age of 33 and my father had his heart attack at the ge of 52.  I would later find out that my cousin had heart surgery at just about the same time I did.  Here's the story...

I started having wierd pains in my right shoulder in May of 2004.  I remember the first one happened when  I was picking the kids up from school very near the end of the semester.  It was a sharp pain, almost like a hot ice pick going through my shoulder and into my shoulder blade.  I have a pretty high tolerance for pain so I didn't think much about it nor did I tell anyone about it.  I went home, took an aspirin and laid down.  The pain subsided in about 15 minutes.  I continued having the same pain every now and then.  I also had developed a rather enormous neck area, my left ankle was swolen and when I laid down I had a gurgling noise in my lungs.

Stacy had a meeting in Denver in October of that year,  so we went a few days early and hung around Breckenridge for a couple of days.  I noticed that it wasn't very easy to breathe that thin mountain air,  but I made do.  Stacy still didn't know about the "pain" I had been having.  After dinner one night in Breckenridge we were walking back to the condo when the pain hit me.  It was worse than I had ever had before.  The pain was so intense that I threw up in the bathroom by the pool of the hotel.  Shortly after, the pain went away again.  The next day we decided to go a little higher in elevation since mountain air was so easy to breathe, he said sarcastically.  We had our picture taken at the Continental divide, 12,095 feet.  We didn't hike very far that day.

I dropped Stacy off at her meeting near the Denver airport and I headed out for the 9 hour drive back to Kansas City.  Probably not  the best idea for someone who was having heart attacks on a regular basis.

Shortly after Christmas Stacy decided to get me a doctor's appointment.  Shortly after the first of the year, my regular doctor did an in office ECG and asked me to go right upstairs to see Dr. Bissing, a cardiologist.  We spent about ten minutes speaking with Dr. Bissing when he told us he was admitting me to the hospital as he believed I was having heart attacks, more than a dozen by this time.  The ankle swelling, the swelling in the neck, the gurgling and the pain were all indicative of congestive heart failure.  I went directly into the hospital next door and the testing began.  The sonogram told the story.  I had an enlarged heart, congestive heart failure and an ejection fraction of 20 to 25.  An ejection fraction is the percentage of blood the heart is pumping.  A normal EF is 65 which means your heart closes 65% to pump blood.  The ineffiency of my heart was causing fluid to be backed up into my body causing the swelling and the fluid in my lungs.  They did an angiogram after that and then the news from the cardiologist and the heart surgeon...the bottom half of my heart was non-viable, dead.  There was nothing they could do but send me home.  They didn't think putting me on the heart transplant list was an option either.  So, home I went, to die I suppose.  Hard to believe, but I tried to stay upbeat about the whole situation.

It was Super Bowl Sunday and we had some friends over to watch the game and after everyone had left we went to bed.  I awoke at about one with chest pains.  We decided to go to the hospital.  This time they decided to do a nuclear stress test and when they stressed my heart, the part they thought was nonviable began to work, a little.  Dr. Castlemain came to my room and told me the "good" news.  He said he believed he could help me live another twenty years or more.  He wanted to crack open my chest the next morning at 7.  I told him to go for it.  Either I am fearless or possible naive, but I wasn't worried in the slightest.  I guess deep down I knew I hadn't felt well for a long time and now I would feel good again.

The surgery lasted until 1 pm and went fairly smooth, except for the 13 transfusions during the procedure.  I remember laying in the intensive care unit listening to Stacy talk with the nurse on duty.  She assured Stacy that I was not aware of anything.  I know that because I could hear every word.  But I was in no pain whatsoever at that point. 

The next thing I remember is a woman's voice saying something about "no blood pressure" and I could hear whistles and bells and sirens going off.  It was either getting very busy in my room or I was at the state fair.  Stacy later told me they rushed them out of the room, pulled the curtain and closed the door at about 4 pm.  My family would not hear any word on what was going on for four hours.  In the meantime, I was aware of everything going on.  Later, Dr. Bissing would explain to me that the last thing to go is your hearing.  As an aside. if you are ever in this situation with a loved one, rest assured that they may look unconcious but there is a very good chance they can hear every word.  Be encouraging!

As I laid in the darkness, listening to the doctors and staff in panic mode, I remember wondering to myself what might be going on.  I thought to myself that I diidn't believe it was a good time to die as I had not said goodbye to my wife, kids and friends.  The doctors kept asking about the anesthetician.  They were literally beating on my chest.  At one point they pushed on my chest and I let out a groan.  I remember thinking that it must have sounded odd to them.  Still no pain whatsoever.  In fact, not only was there no pain, I was actually having a very serene feeling.  I felt very peaceful, thinking random thoughts about my life and things in general.  As I mentioned earlier, my hearing was apparently the only thing that was working.  I pictured myself lying in the dark.  I looked upward, in my mind's eye and there was a beautiful field of blue.  The kind of blue that you can't really see if you look directly at it.  It reminded me of a couple of summers back when Stacy and I were laying on the dock at Table Rock Lake, where we hang out alot during the summer, looking up into the pitch black night and seeing every star in the sky.  It was quite beautiful.  A death counselor would later tell me that some folks see the field of blue and some see the "light".

This went on for the living in the waiting room for four hours.  For me, time didn't seem to matter.  Then came a point where I was in complete darkness.  I was away from everything that was happening, detached, like  was now observing but not in a visual way.  Does that make sense?  Then I felt a hot liquid running down my cheeks and neck and someone asked, "Where did thatcome from?".  It was like this hot liquid had awakened me.  It was very quiet and the last thing I remember is breathing on my own and panting like a dog.  They had removed my breathing tube which apparently was in me incorrectly and I was drowning.  I woke up the next morning sitting in a chair in intensive care and seeing my friend Dan Holiday at the door.  I said, "Hey Dan, what's up?"

I would spend the next two weeks sleeping in a chair because I had trouble breathing on my back.  It was during this time, sleeping in a chair, that I remember visiting many people I loved who had already passed.  My father, my friend John Sternad, my grandma GG and many others.  I would visit with them often during the ensuing weeks.

I asked the doctors what happened that night in the ICU nad they just didn't want to give out many details, and that was alright, after all, I was there.  I have to say that whatever happened to me that night was the most peaceful, serene feeling I have ever had.  I was not afraid, I was not worried, I was just at peace.  I died that night according to the doctors, but Dr. Bissing told me later that I didn't go because I wasn't ready.  I had the will to live.  I gained some knowledge that everyone should have at this point in our lives. 

My daughter has some doubts in her faith.  I tell her all the time to just believe and we can all be together forever.

I won't spoil the ending, but it ain't too bad.  Someone asked me after that experience if I felt like I had cheated death.  I told them "no".  What I feel, is that I was given a second chance, and I took it.  No regrets.

Nearly Full Moon...

As I sat on my deck tonight listening to the buzz of the power station and seeing how brilliantly the nearly full moon reflected off the thousands of insulators I wondered who else was looking at the very same nearly full moon and not even close to thinking about me.  Probably quite a few....more like everyone who was looking at the nearly full moon. 

It was a week ago tonight that I was driving back to civilization in the rain when I experienced another event that makes me wonder about life itself.  I believe things happen for a purpose.  Whether its an event or old friends crossing paths or what ever, everything has either a consequence or a benefit.  Anyway, as I drove south on I-29 I suddenly realized that an oncoming driver had lost control of their car on the rain soaked highway and were coming across the median and I was in their path.  Strangley, I did nothing evasive and they crossed the road right behind me.  I didn't stop, I just kept driving wondering why I had been spared again.  Remembering last December 7th when I totalled my car in an accident on I-470 and was left with little more than a bruise from the seatbelt.  The airbag did not deploy as it was not replaced by the driver that had wrecked the car before I bought it.  Can you visualize the kind of cars I drive?

So, what do these events mean if there is a reason for everything?  Why do I keep getting second chances?  Is there unfinished business that I am supposed to be tending to?  Maybe, maybe not.  I know after my brush with death following heart surgery five years ago, someone asked me if I felt like I had cheated death.  To cheat death, I believe you have to have some kind of control over the outcome and I clearly did not, so I told them that I had not cheated death but was merely given a second chance.  I'm starting to think I've had more than my share of second chances.

Anyway, my point is, maybe I need to take care of some unfinished business whatever it may be, close some left open doors or make sure no one is left hurting because of me.  I don't know.

Maybe, living so close to the power station has made me dumber.  Maybe it was Dr. Phil who said, "Either get busy livin' or get busy dyin"."  Did I mention that the moon was nearly full?

That is all...Peters out!

 

Blast from the past....

I know, it's been a while but I've been really busy....uh....or somethiing like that.  Actually, I feel as though every drop of creativity has drained out of my brain.  So, let's get caught up.

A week after my last entry I totalled my car.  A young man decided it would be a good idea to drive his pickup truck on fumes until it quit running and then he would just park it on interstate 470 and wait for cars to hit him.  I was third in the line of approaching cars.  Cars number 1 and 2 were able to slam on their brakes, but as many people know, the further back in the line you are the more likely you are to hit the car in front of you, which I did, and then proceeded on to bury the front of my car under his pickup.  Except for a diagonal bruise across my chest, I was unhurt.  I got the ticket which I have been to court for and am now on probation/diversion.  That story is ongoing.

Christmas was uneventful as there were no fights at the in-laws house this year, only a minor skirmish, neither involved firearms.  We attended the get together in Wichita for about 12 hours and returned home.  We will celebrate with my family sometime in the future.  We plan to take down the Christmas decorations on the inside and outside of the house before the first day of Summer.

January was dull and snowy and without sunlight here in the midwest.  My vitamin D levels may be low as I constantly feel like staying in bed until the sun comes out in June.  Then, on the worst weather day of the year,  in February we had a reunion of all the talented people that made up the Long/Pride reign of superior radio in Wichita in the 80's.  Despite the ice storm/blizzard, people from as far away as Georgia, Florida and Nevada attended.  I think this reunion may have brought a new relevance to my life.  That particular period left an indelible mark on my career and my life. 

Now it's the middle of March and we are supposed to be getting up to 15 inches of snow this weekend.  I will be taking invitations for adoption from anyone living in a tropical locale.  I'm not much trouble except for the bitter sarcasm and sketchy past.  I am cuddly and I don't mess up carpet and wouldn't mind living in a closet in case no one else knows I'm there.  Let me know.

That is all...Peters out!!!!!

I'mmmmm Baaaaaccccckkkkkkk!

 

I guess I didn’t realize it had been that long since I wrote that last piece of random thoughts.  Catherine is the only one who commented on it.  If this is the Catherine I’m thinking of then I am inspired that a real scientist reads my ramblings.  She wanted to know if I would be coming to Wichita any time soon.  To answer the question, I was there yesterday for Thanksgiving.  I have to admit though, that I had my greatest successes on the radio in Wichita, I also had my lowest points there also.  I consider Wichita as the end of a wildly successful career.  That is why I seldom make the trip with Stacy. 

 

Even though I worked there in 2007 on 92.3, the station management could never seem to keep that station on a transmitter that anyone could hear.  I hear from people all the time now that never even knew I was there.  Then the same management passed me by when they decided to hire a new morning show for KFDI.  That was a giant slap in the face as far as I am concerned.

 

I am however, really excited that some former KEYN alumni have put together a reunion for all the people who worked at KEYN during the Long-Pride Broadcasting reign of success.  The reunion will be in February here in Kansas City.  The people I worked with during that era of my career have a special place in the area where my heart used to be.  I think about them often and smile, most of the time.  I miss that time of my life, it was very special.

 

If you know of any KEYN people from that era, 1980-1990, please tell them to get in touch with me. 

 

Now, I need to go and fix a faucet, or something domestic.  Spell check just told me I wrote this on a 7^th grade level.  I laughed out loud.  Good thing I don’t care what spell check thinks.

 

That is all…Peters out!

 

 

Very Random Thoughts

 

My left back tire is square, I think. Pete Rose should be in the Hall of Fame. Put one computer hacker to death and I bet virus activity would slow down. Do you think elevators smell different to very short people? Why do I look different in a mirror than I do in photographs? John Denver may have been a genius. Does anyone know someone high up in the McDonalds Corporation?

 

When people honk at me I usually wake up and go thru the intersection as if I hadn't fallen asleep at the red light. I only do what I'm doing because NASA isn't hiring. Do you think selling roasted corn on the cob at carnivals would be a good way to make money...on the road?

 

I still only use a couple of fingers to type.  I think the light in the refrigerator goes out when you close the door.  I like crowds because a lot of people always show up for them.  I can pinpoint the exact date I ended a successful career.  Do you think the President has read the Constitution...of the United States?  I have friends whose kids are rocket scientists.  Is it so wrong to mouth the words "I love you" to the guy in the next car?  I am still having trouble getting used to wearing underwear. 

 

People think I'm not listening to them when I'm trying to think.  I tend to remember the good times and people of  my past.  I say hello to senior citizens everyday when they may not hear those words for days or weeks.  Most of them smile, some ignore me.  I have memorized where clean bathrooms are in my area of town.  I stopped hating needles a while back.  My cats like me because I take fish oil.  My dog likes me because I'm nice to her.  I sometimes wonder how far I could kick the other dog. 

 

Sometimes I remember intricate details of an event in my past and other times I can't remember my name.  I grew up in a blue house on 77th Avenue.  I accidently pee-d on an electric fence on a snowy day in ninth grade.  I can tell you who the first person I gave a ride in my corvair the day I got my license.  I feel lucky to have died once in my life.  My Dad hated rock and roll music, I still miss him.  Sometimes when I'm alone at home, I run though the house with scissors in my hand.  Can carnival life be that bad?  I can change my own disc brakes.  I once had a friend that drove his car in reverse to work to take miles off the car. 

 

I almost ran over a friend of mine after a graduation picnic because he had passed out in the street using the curb as a pillow.  In college, I was a bouncer at the Aquarius Lounge at 72nd and Pacific in Omaha.  I've been stabbed twice by a burglar, but I won the fight when I knocked him out with my ninth grade shop project.  My forehead is much larger than it used to be.  As I get older I realize that regularity isn't that bad of a conversation subject.  My very first girlfriend from 5th grade found me on Facebook.  The late Terry Mason, KOIL 1979, once told me he woke up that morning and his socks were wet. 

 

I loved being on the radio.  I miss being on the radio.  (sigh)

 

I'm really tired.  Have I been typing in my sleep again? Good Night.

 

That is all...Peters out!