How I joined the Zipper club.
Sunday - It was a lovely morning, pitched up at the houseboat early enough to avoid the preparation mayhem, snagged a mug of coffee and headed for the stable. The dogs picked me up long before I got there, obliged me to put the mug somewhere safe, sat on a log and had a good long ‘chat’ with ‘em. Clever folk, dogs, they just know stuff. The mystery of the uncooperative joints had been solved; the bench was now to be 40 mm shorter and, if I would assist the remaining four new tennons could be finished in no time. We worked in silence for a while, then – “how are you?”. It was not a casual question.
The short answer is ‘bloody marvellous’. The first week out of hospital is a bit tedious; but rest, food and quiet sorts that out and provided you are not inclined to wallow around the place, get out, breathe and don’t go too hard it all starts to work after that. I’ve been three weeks since the ‘op’ and am back to a normal pattern, which includes a days work and a dog walking; so – all good so far. But I have been lucky, I’ll tell you why, because if this happens to you, there are some things which matter.
For starters; make sure you are ‘fit and well’- for real. That was my first piece of luck; I’m not ‘fit’ like you would be for say a tough climb, or sailing in the Fast net; or, playing for the first XV; but I can do a days hard work or walk all day; you know the type of thing. That helped a great deal – I went in well, in reasonable condition, the body did the rest, I came out a little ‘groggy’, a bit sore and ‘weary’. But, as stated a quiet week at home was enough rest, the recovery began after that – bloody marvellous. Well done Medics, well done body. I will say – it isn’t a load of laughs and there are a few hours of it I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy, however, it is what it is. Just try not to sneeze – that really hurts. Oh, and the ‘itching’ is murder; they seriously ‘shave’ you – furless – all over and it grows back.
The real point to my rambling on is to bring you a message, one I feel is important. I have held a Class 1 medical for over four decades. During that time I have not missed a licence medical check, in fact, given checks for the issue of overseas licences, one way or another I have passed a heap of ‘checks’ – without so much as needing a wart removed – all good. Blood pressure, cholesterol, sound in wind and limb, reading glasses now required, a little down on hearing in one ear - . In short just the usual wear and tear on a body which is ‘active’. Not the slightest hint of impending doom, nary a whisper. First medical 2017, sound as a bell; second medical Avmed asked for a Stress test ECG. So, off I toddled to the treadmill. This is where I had my second bit of luck – a top dog Cardiologist just happened to be there and decided to watch his apprentice do the test (did I mind – course not). They wired me up and I stepped onto the belt – Whoa, calls the top dog – ‘hold on, this man has a problem”. Well they checked the electronic wizardry first (to be sure) then there was a long discussion; they decided the ‘problem’ could not be defined through the ECG but an ‘Echo’ stress test would do the trick. So, off I went. I have to say that if nine minutes on the belt the last three with the old ticker banging away at 200 BpS don’t induce a heart attack – nothing will. Test over.
In retrospect, I should have dropped dead on the belt. “Had I had a heart attack” they asked; Nope. “Ever had chest pains”; Nope. “Ever felt unwell or breathless”: Nope. “Well”, they said you have had a heart attack and the ‘widow maker’ artery is well blocked – Angiogram for you – tomorrow – be there. Ok says I. Thus children, I entered the world of cardiac surgery.
Finally, the point. Neither I nor Avmed had the first blind clue of the condition – none, zero, zilch, nada. Seems that for at least the last five years (10 static ECG’s and blood tests) the blockages had been building up and my heart had ‘knitted’ it’s own by-pass (which is ducking remarkable, when you think about it). The long and the short of it is simple enough; for five years I could, quite legally, have had a heart attack airborne. This is no where near good enough. ‘We’ have not finished the research yet, but one thing is for certain sure; the Avmed system failed me and my passengers. This needs to be addressed. Meanwhile, spend the money make certain that all is well; had I done so, then five years ago I could have spent a day in hospital, had ‘stents’ put in and been brand new within 24 hours instead of taking a six week holiday and having my new stainless steel zipper fitted. All’s well that ends well, but it is time to take a serious look at the ‘testing’ regime CASA insist on. Clearly – it ain’t effective.
That’s all; first and final time I shall bang on about it. Thanks for your patience - if you got this far. Mind you, that first Guinness almost made it all worth while, I’ll probably never drink another one now; just in case the next is not so good (as if).
Cheers.
Sunday - It was a lovely morning, pitched up at the houseboat early enough to avoid the preparation mayhem, snagged a mug of coffee and headed for the stable. The dogs picked me up long before I got there, obliged me to put the mug somewhere safe, sat on a log and had a good long ‘chat’ with ‘em. Clever folk, dogs, they just know stuff. The mystery of the uncooperative joints had been solved; the bench was now to be 40 mm shorter and, if I would assist the remaining four new tennons could be finished in no time. We worked in silence for a while, then – “how are you?”. It was not a casual question.
The short answer is ‘bloody marvellous’. The first week out of hospital is a bit tedious; but rest, food and quiet sorts that out and provided you are not inclined to wallow around the place, get out, breathe and don’t go too hard it all starts to work after that. I’ve been three weeks since the ‘op’ and am back to a normal pattern, which includes a days work and a dog walking; so – all good so far. But I have been lucky, I’ll tell you why, because if this happens to you, there are some things which matter.
For starters; make sure you are ‘fit and well’- for real. That was my first piece of luck; I’m not ‘fit’ like you would be for say a tough climb, or sailing in the Fast net; or, playing for the first XV; but I can do a days hard work or walk all day; you know the type of thing. That helped a great deal – I went in well, in reasonable condition, the body did the rest, I came out a little ‘groggy’, a bit sore and ‘weary’. But, as stated a quiet week at home was enough rest, the recovery began after that – bloody marvellous. Well done Medics, well done body. I will say – it isn’t a load of laughs and there are a few hours of it I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy, however, it is what it is. Just try not to sneeze – that really hurts. Oh, and the ‘itching’ is murder; they seriously ‘shave’ you – furless – all over and it grows back.
The real point to my rambling on is to bring you a message, one I feel is important. I have held a Class 1 medical for over four decades. During that time I have not missed a licence medical check, in fact, given checks for the issue of overseas licences, one way or another I have passed a heap of ‘checks’ – without so much as needing a wart removed – all good. Blood pressure, cholesterol, sound in wind and limb, reading glasses now required, a little down on hearing in one ear - . In short just the usual wear and tear on a body which is ‘active’. Not the slightest hint of impending doom, nary a whisper. First medical 2017, sound as a bell; second medical Avmed asked for a Stress test ECG. So, off I toddled to the treadmill. This is where I had my second bit of luck – a top dog Cardiologist just happened to be there and decided to watch his apprentice do the test (did I mind – course not). They wired me up and I stepped onto the belt – Whoa, calls the top dog – ‘hold on, this man has a problem”. Well they checked the electronic wizardry first (to be sure) then there was a long discussion; they decided the ‘problem’ could not be defined through the ECG but an ‘Echo’ stress test would do the trick. So, off I went. I have to say that if nine minutes on the belt the last three with the old ticker banging away at 200 BpS don’t induce a heart attack – nothing will. Test over.
In retrospect, I should have dropped dead on the belt. “Had I had a heart attack” they asked; Nope. “Ever had chest pains”; Nope. “Ever felt unwell or breathless”: Nope. “Well”, they said you have had a heart attack and the ‘widow maker’ artery is well blocked – Angiogram for you – tomorrow – be there. Ok says I. Thus children, I entered the world of cardiac surgery.
Finally, the point. Neither I nor Avmed had the first blind clue of the condition – none, zero, zilch, nada. Seems that for at least the last five years (10 static ECG’s and blood tests) the blockages had been building up and my heart had ‘knitted’ it’s own by-pass (which is ducking remarkable, when you think about it). The long and the short of it is simple enough; for five years I could, quite legally, have had a heart attack airborne. This is no where near good enough. ‘We’ have not finished the research yet, but one thing is for certain sure; the Avmed system failed me and my passengers. This needs to be addressed. Meanwhile, spend the money make certain that all is well; had I done so, then five years ago I could have spent a day in hospital, had ‘stents’ put in and been brand new within 24 hours instead of taking a six week holiday and having my new stainless steel zipper fitted. All’s well that ends well, but it is time to take a serious look at the ‘testing’ regime CASA insist on. Clearly – it ain’t effective.
That’s all; first and final time I shall bang on about it. Thanks for your patience - if you got this far. Mind you, that first Guinness almost made it all worth while, I’ll probably never drink another one now; just in case the next is not so good (as if).
Cheers.