Twenty Ten. Two thousand and ten. Two thousand, ten. 2010.
No matter how many different ways I write it or say it, it's the same number. According to the most widely accepted calendar, those of us here on Planet Earth at this moment are living in the year 2010, two thousand and ten years after the birth of Jesus Christ.
In the first place, it's a remarkable year. We have entered the second decade of the 'thousands, sometimes written the '00s. I'm sure that many amazing things have happened over the past ten years that I have no knowledge of; they happened when I wasn't looking.
I think most of us are oblivious of most of the things that go on in the world outside of our own sphere.
It's the time of year when a lot of us stop to take stock of what has happened to us during the preceding year and to decide whether there is anything we want to change about ourselves or our lives.
Last year at about this time, I had a heart attack. Just eight days into 2009, I found myself feeling extremely ill, very nauseous and unable to catch my breath - almost not able to breathe. My face was swollen and a deep red in color. I was barely able to get dressed. I was at my mother's house in Red Bank, NJ, where my son, Chris and his girlfriend, whom we had never met, were visiting from Oregon. Also, my sister, Ginny, was visiting from her home in England. My husband, Bill, was at our home in Maplewood, about forty minutes away. My Mom, very worried about me, called him. I don't even know if he left right away. My sisters, Mo and Susan, arrived at Mom's house because they had planned a day in the City with Ginny.
My sister, Maureen (Mo) said, "Wow, Ellen, your face is really red." That was her single contribution to my dilemma. I think Susan was a bit more helpful.
I remember my son, Christopher (also called, Zeke) was terribly worried.
Finally, Bill got there. I could barely find enough strength to walk, but I made it to the car. Bill wanted to take me home so that he could bring me to Overlook Hospital in Summit, which is much closer to Maplewood, but I was afraid I wouldn't make it to Summit. I was really scared. So he took me to Riverview Medical Center, in Red Bank, which was only twenty minutes away. As soon as I got to the lobby of the hospital and Bill told a nurse that I was short of breath, they put me on oxygen.
It felt so wonderful. I did not have any chest pain. My back hurt, I was exhausted and still very nauseous. When I was admitted to the ER, at first the doctors and their team treated me as presenting with problems with my gall bladder.
That progressed and they took and EKG, some blood, a chest x-ray and an ultrasound or x-ray of my gall bladder and began an IV. Then, they came back to take more blood.
Then, a few hours later, they took still more blood. I know that I have veins which are very difficult for the hematologists and techs to work with - it's hard to draw my blood. Wow, did those people find that out! Sometimes, three or four technicians had to try before they could get any at all. Not a picnic, that's for sure. I never complain, though. They are all just trying to do their job - they never mean to hurt anyone.
I like to learn everyone's name and call them by their names. Everyone deserves to be treated at least with civility and should be treated with kindness. We all deserve that. I was in the ER for ten hours before being moved to a room.
After I was settled into a bed, hooked up to wall oxygen and had my IV stabilized,
they came to take another EKG. With all my medical problems: obesity, crippling degenerative joint disease, major depression, type 2 diabetes and high blood pressure - I have never had two EKG's taken, so I knew that something was going on. I asked and was told that my heart enzymes were elevated. It seems that elevated heart enzymes means just one thing. Heart problems; perhaps a heart attack. I was more scared now. Bill had gone home - I was alone and frightened.
I knew that my having a heart attack was my fault. The life I'd led up until then, even under the care of my own doctor, Dr. Dawn Calimari (whom Bill and I call
Dr. Squid) and whom I love and trust implicitly, I hadn't been doing the things I should to keep my body in good condition. Neither has Bill. I can't worry too much about him any more. I can only tell him what I think he should do and then he is the one who has to do it. I have to worry more about myself, now.
It sounds selfish, yes, but I don't want to die. Not yet, anyway. I was 59.
As much as I hate being 60, I'm glad I am!
A doctor came in the next morning to tell me that I'd had a heart attack. That's an impressive thing to hear. Bill was there, and he asked her, "on a scale of one to ten, how bad was the heart attack?" The doctor's name was Dr. Ponti, and she answered, in a middle Euorpean accent, "Heart attack is heart attack. Is all bad."
I had the feeling then, that Bill did not believe that I'd actually had a heart attack.
I found out later, that he decided to believe that it wasn't serious, so he didn't have to worry about it.
I was in the hospital for five days and I had an angiogram, which showed no damage. When I saw my own cardiologist a few weeks later, he wasn't sure I'd had a heart attack, because there didn't seem to be any damage to my heart muscle or damage to my arteries. He said it was, "a mitsvah." A miracle sort of heart attack, because when he did finally get the paperwork from Riverview, which showed that, according to the blood work; the heart enzymes, I did have a small heart attack.
I always remember what Dr. Ponzi said. "Heart attack is heart attack. Is all bad."
I changed the way I ate, lost some weight. I have gone down a few sizes, I definitely look a little thinner - I feel better. But I could be working harder.
I have stopped being careful about my blood sugar. I hardly ever take my blood sugar and I eat less, but I still too often eat things that are bad for me. I need to do better. Last year, a physical therapist told me that I can only exercise in the hot water pool. However, the co-pay is just too expensive for us. I need to find someone at Horizon/Medicare to help me with that. We still owe lots of money for medical care that Bill and I have had, but we can't afford to pay any of it and still be able to pay our other important bills, such as, gas and electricity, water, gas and upkeep for our old jalopy of a car, food, upkeep for the house, taxes, double taxes, outstanding other bills, Bill's medications and mine- which add up to hundreds of dollars a month.
This year, I resolve to try to take better care of myself. I resolve to try to eat better and to try to walk more, no matter what the pain. I resolve to try to get Bill to take the de-cluttering of our house and lives seriously. We are going to begin to clean our bedroom and the back bedroom and divest ourselves of everything we won't use. I promise to get rid of the lion's share of my books. That will be painful, too - but it has to be done and I will do it in 2010.
