HEALTH MATTERS

FIRST REAL WALK

OKAY.  We walked today.

SOME MIGHT SAY IT'S NO BIG DEAL.  But to me it was huge.  Come tomorrow it will have been thirty days since my husband's heart attack.  Doctors wanted him up and walking 18 minutes a day the first week home from the hospital.  Didn't happen.  Too weak.  He couldn't get any breath at all when he stood up.  Gasped for air.  It was scary.

The second week he was suffering from fatigue, and of all things, excruciating hemorrhoids.  No walking was done.

Yesterday we spent the day trying to figure out why his blood pressure hovered around 75/53.  After consulting the doctor, we took him off BP meds, his blood pressure went up to 114/78.  That was good.  I didn't take it this morning.  I waited till we got home from the outpatient clinic. I had to take him for an echocardiogram today and so we decided to go to the mall afterwards.  His pain was finally manageable and his breathing easier.  He just had to walk slowly.  We made two trips around our mall and I think that it measures about one mile all the way round.

The second trip was a bit slower than the first but he made it all the way around.  When we got to the exit door, we stopped to chat with a lady we knew and I looked up and my husband's nose was bleeding.  That in itself might not have been a big deal if not for the blood I saw when he upchucked his pills the day before.  Two and two made trouble in my mind.  So we get home from walking the mall and I take his blood pressure, fully expecting it to be at least what it was last night.  Nope.  98/73.  What does it all mean?  I don't know.  Do I keep calling the doctors?  Or just let it go?

I think about letting it go, but you know what?  We ignored his fatigue and tiredness for over five years.  We ignored his lack of energy and occasional pain in his back between his shoulder blades.  And then one early morning in May, he had a major heart attack which ended with 5 by-pass open-heart surgery.  We discovered not only was his heart a mess, but his thyroid was non-existent on the low end of the chart.  So maybe we shouldn't take little things for granted.  Maybe the little things will point us to the bigger things.

I think we should be vigilant in our Christian lives too.  It's not the big things that come into our lives that destroy us.  It's not the crises of life.  It's the little things we neglect to monitor in our lives.  A little white lie. (are any white or little?)  A bad attitude. (does a person cutting you off in traffic count?)  A longer wait than necessary in the doctor's office, the cafeteria line, the restaurant? (is patience really a virtue?)

What is God doing with all these little inconveniences in our lives?  I think He's building up our muscles of self-control, trust in Him, reliance upon Him, love and temperance.  If not for those things, we won't be ready for the big crisis.  And if we aren't ready, the crisis can be daunting...overwhelming and incredibly difficult to endure.

Well, I've gotta go call the doctor and see if nose bleed after walking is something to be concerned about.  Let's hope not.  selahV

[copyrighted, SelahV Today, 2007] 

IF YA HAVE AN ITCH...DON'T SCRATCH IT

CHIGGERS.  EEEEYUK!

IT'S THAT TIME OF YEAR AGAIN!

[This blog is written in honor of my Aussie friend who's never heard of Chiggers in the Land Down Under.  He'd rather battle poisonous snakes, and scorpions.  Shucks, knowing Grosey, he'd probably rather wrestle a croccodile!  Ha!  By the way, Grosey, no those buggers aren't in your continent.  They reside in middle America.]

So, what's a body to do in mid-America when these creepy carniverous enemies of Spring and Summer pleasure come calling?    The whelps chiggers cause are monstrous when my husband is bitten.  He is allergic to them.  A dime-size spot of irritation to most folks, is a quarter-size blistering madness for him.  I have found the best treatment is vinegar baths and scrubbing with Lava soap right after any outing which puts you in contact with even the possibility of the hide-and-strike creatures.  Other than that, an ointment with 1% cortisone is the solution to a long wait for them to go away.

In case you don't know what in the world I'm talking about there is a site that explains it quite well.  Check it out:   http://mdc.mo.gov/nathis/arthopo/chiggers/

SHINGLES IS A PAIN

I called the doctor yesterday.  The pills he'd prescribed were not helping relieve the pain.  I could take them every four hours instead of every six.  If that didn't help, I could call again and he'd prescribe something else.  Didn't help.  Will have to call first thing this morning when the office opens.

In the meantime, what do I do?  Well, last night at the peak of my pain, I applied ice and cold facecloths to the area.  Within ten minutes the facecloth was warm.  I mean warm like you'd-wash-your-face-with-running warm-water warm.  BUT...cold compresses do help for a bit.  I slept with wet washcloths on my waist and hip.

I found that the Aveeno 1% Hydrocortisone anti-itch cream is just as effective for $4.95 at Wal-Mart as the special Shingles gel concocted at the pharmacy for $33.00.  They both soothe for about 15 to 20 minutes.  The greatest source of relief is with the cold washcloths.  DO NOT RUB.

The blotches, themselves, feel like I've stepped into a bed of cactus.  The poking, burning sensation does not go away--even with 20 mgs. of Hydrocodone tablets.  So what do I do?  Not much else one can do.  I take my 800 milligram anti-viral Acyclovir 5 times a day to persuade the Shingles not to spread any further and to reduce the probability of residual neuralgia after the rash is gone.  Other than that?  Suffer.  Endure.  Tolerate.  Speculate.  And most importantly?  WARN.  Since Shingles erupted into a full-blown volcanic molten pain that permeates every fiber of my nerve cells on my left side, I've learned some stuff.

I shared in another blog about my Song of Suffering, that there is a Vaccination advised for people over age 60 which strongly reduces the probability of contracting Shingles.  The one-shot to the arm vaccine is called ZOSTAVAX.  If for no other reason in this world, I am grateful to get Shingles in order to suggest that YOU get the vaccination.  It is hailed to ward off Shingles and, in the event you still contract them, the case is milder.   ANYTHING that could have helped me I would probably have ignored.  I would have pooh-poohed the preventative as something I should get--but I wouldn't have.  I'm one of those folks who think, "I'll never get that.  It happens to everyone else."   I'm here to tell you today, don't be like me.   Call your doctor and get the vaccine.  Don't have a doctor?  Call your local clinic.

I am not 60 years old.  Fifty-nine pops around in about 3 more months.  Would they give the vaccine to me?  I don't know, but having gotten this tormenting case of Shingles, I certainly wish I'd known about a vaccine.  I certainly would ask to get the shot--just in case they'd give it to me.  It's worth risking a "NO" to the possibility of avoiding this annoying, tortuous inconvenience in my health.

My stepmother use to say, "an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure."  Wow what an epithet!  Consider yourself warned and advised.  [copyrighted, SelahV Today, 2007] BY THE WAY:  Shingles is no respector of gender.  Women, make your husbands get this shot--you won't want to care for them if they get Shingles.  Men, be kind to your wives--insist they get the vaccination.  Your life will be better for it.  It's a gift that keeps on giving.