So Gary and I had such a terrible week I can’t even put it on Facebook because that’s where my close friends and family are. I don’t think anyone reads this blog anymore except for when I put a link on Twitter so I’ll hide my post here.
Because you know when I’m upset I gotta write about it.
Long story short (though I am planning on writing a regular column about this for Medium.com), I flunked my routine physical, my alarmed doctor made me a STAT appointment for a chest x-ray and an echocardiogram after which I got an emergency appointment with a top cardiologist at Penn.
Yay.
So now I’m one of those retirement stories. Busted my ass working for 50 years, made it (so far) through a pandemic, and just as I’m starting to relax and travel and have a good time, I find out my left ventricle is malfunctioning and my aortic valve calcifying.
I have persistent atrial fibrillation.
So fuck fuck fuck, I need to have a mildly scary procedure which may or may not work, if it doesn’t work there’s a slightly more scary procedure, and if that fails, we’re talking pacemaker.
Wait, wut?
Me?
The vegetarian who right now weighs 134 pounds?
Anyway, if this isn’t a big enough nightmare, I have to be on blood thinners the rest of my life.
I also have a whole story about that.
All you need to know for now is that the medication I have to take is $600 a month and is not covered by my insurance.
I spent the week doing research and talking to insurance agents about this and luckily Medicare open enrollment starts 10/15. I can swap out Part D for insurance that will cover my medicine. I’m on the hook for $600 a month until 1/1/22, though.
Good times.
Luckily we can afford it but I can’t help but wonder what happens to people who can’t?
Without this drug, I will likely die of an errant blood clot.
Sooo, the week wasn’t shit enough, on Tuesday we get a frantic knock on the door, it’s the gas company, there’s a gas leak on our street. All day Tuesday and into Wednesday we had PGW workers traipsing in and out of our house. I had to stay upstairs with the dog.
We were both very unhappy.
On Thursday, I got a call from my new cardiologist’s office. We scheduled my procedure along with a Covid test two days before.
I also have to quarantine a week.
She also went over a whole new list of do’s and don’ts now that I’m a heart patient and on blood thinners.
The doctor had already gone over this with me but I think he saw my shocked expression and knew I was hearing nothing but white noise.
Oh yeah, I also have to wear a heart monitor 24/7 for the next two weeks.
Between that and everything horrible that will happen to me if I accidentally bang/cut myself while on blood thinners, I am never going to leave the sofa.
Scratch that, I was told I should be walking 30 minutes a day.
Welcome to my nightmare.
Thursday afternoon, Gary and I had a conference call with our financial advisor.
Yeah, I know.
I can’t believe we have one, either.
Sometimes for a stoner hippie I can be fairly smart, though. Everyone should have a financial advisor. It’s how we were able to retire and afford $600 a month blood thinners.
Arghhh.
We also had to fill out beneficiary paperwork which really freaked me out given the other developments of the week.
So yeah, that was a weirdly stressful phone call, too. Gary and I are not money people. Something something annuity something lump sum something. No clue, but we’re all set.
And then naturally this morning Jake woke us up at 4:00 a.m. with ear trouble again. I went downstairs with him and couldn’t fall back asleep. I was so exhausted that Gary took him to the vet without me.
For the first time, our vet mentioned possible cancer. I have to admit it’s been on my mind, too, but I’m trying not to think that way. His appetite is still great. He just seems out of it a lot and very low energy.
In a way, I was glad the vet told Gary without me there. I would have broken into sobs. Gary handled it stoically though he thinks Jake’s decline is old age, he’ll be 12 in a few months.
I’m so sad either way.
But we’re taking it a day at a time and as long as he’s still happily eating and not in pain, who cares if he doesn’t want to go for runs in the park.
Ms. AFib over here can’t chase after him anyway.
We’re always going to have a dog. If it were up to me, we’d have 2-3 rescues, more if we had a bigger yard.
So that’s my week.
My response at the moment is to regroup and hit the beach next week.
I mean, what the fuck else can I do?
I’m also gonna have a fun weekend before I have to go through all this stuff and start eating kale and shit 24/7.
Pizza tonight, french fries tomorrow.
Hahaha I should probably go to the beach now, huh.
Sounds like a plan.
Because you know when I’m upset I gotta write about it.
Long story short (though I am planning on writing a regular column about this for Medium.com), I flunked my routine physical, my alarmed doctor made me a STAT appointment for a chest x-ray and an echocardiogram after which I got an emergency appointment with a top cardiologist at Penn.
Yay.
So now I’m one of those retirement stories. Busted my ass working for 50 years, made it (so far) through a pandemic, and just as I’m starting to relax and travel and have a good time, I find out my left ventricle is malfunctioning and my aortic valve calcifying.
I have persistent atrial fibrillation.
So fuck fuck fuck, I need to have a mildly scary procedure which may or may not work, if it doesn’t work there’s a slightly more scary procedure, and if that fails, we’re talking pacemaker.
Wait, wut?
Me?
The vegetarian who right now weighs 134 pounds?
Anyway, if this isn’t a big enough nightmare, I have to be on blood thinners the rest of my life.
I also have a whole story about that.
All you need to know for now is that the medication I have to take is $600 a month and is not covered by my insurance.
I spent the week doing research and talking to insurance agents about this and luckily Medicare open enrollment starts 10/15. I can swap out Part D for insurance that will cover my medicine. I’m on the hook for $600 a month until 1/1/22, though.
Good times.
Luckily we can afford it but I can’t help but wonder what happens to people who can’t?
Without this drug, I will likely die of an errant blood clot.
Sooo, the week wasn’t shit enough, on Tuesday we get a frantic knock on the door, it’s the gas company, there’s a gas leak on our street. All day Tuesday and into Wednesday we had PGW workers traipsing in and out of our house. I had to stay upstairs with the dog.
We were both very unhappy.
On Thursday, I got a call from my new cardiologist’s office. We scheduled my procedure along with a Covid test two days before.
I also have to quarantine a week.
She also went over a whole new list of do’s and don’ts now that I’m a heart patient and on blood thinners.
The doctor had already gone over this with me but I think he saw my shocked expression and knew I was hearing nothing but white noise.
Oh yeah, I also have to wear a heart monitor 24/7 for the next two weeks.
Between that and everything horrible that will happen to me if I accidentally bang/cut myself while on blood thinners, I am never going to leave the sofa.
Scratch that, I was told I should be walking 30 minutes a day.
Welcome to my nightmare.
Thursday afternoon, Gary and I had a conference call with our financial advisor.
Yeah, I know.
I can’t believe we have one, either.
Sometimes for a stoner hippie I can be fairly smart, though. Everyone should have a financial advisor. It’s how we were able to retire and afford $600 a month blood thinners.
Arghhh.
We also had to fill out beneficiary paperwork which really freaked me out given the other developments of the week.
So yeah, that was a weirdly stressful phone call, too. Gary and I are not money people. Something something annuity something lump sum something. No clue, but we’re all set.
And then naturally this morning Jake woke us up at 4:00 a.m. with ear trouble again. I went downstairs with him and couldn’t fall back asleep. I was so exhausted that Gary took him to the vet without me.
For the first time, our vet mentioned possible cancer. I have to admit it’s been on my mind, too, but I’m trying not to think that way. His appetite is still great. He just seems out of it a lot and very low energy.
In a way, I was glad the vet told Gary without me there. I would have broken into sobs. Gary handled it stoically though he thinks Jake’s decline is old age, he’ll be 12 in a few months.
I’m so sad either way.
But we’re taking it a day at a time and as long as he’s still happily eating and not in pain, who cares if he doesn’t want to go for runs in the park.
Ms. AFib over here can’t chase after him anyway.
We’re always going to have a dog. If it were up to me, we’d have 2-3 rescues, more if we had a bigger yard.
So that’s my week.
My response at the moment is to regroup and hit the beach next week.
I mean, what the fuck else can I do?
I’m also gonna have a fun weekend before I have to go through all this stuff and start eating kale and shit 24/7.
Pizza tonight, french fries tomorrow.
Hahaha I should probably go to the beach now, huh.
Sounds like a plan.
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