Paul's Heart

Life As A Dad, And A Survivor

Archive for the category “Family and Friends”

Sleep Deprivation


Sleep is overrated.

As far as I can remember, I have always been always been a light sleeper, but never suffered from an inability to sleep.  That is until my heart surgery.  I always sleep on my sides, however, when I had the surgery, because my breast bone had been cut open, I was forced to lay on my back, which was a struggle enough to get into bed.  I could never have been more uncomfortable, and with Wendy’s help, and several pillows and positions, I finally found comfort.

But the day came that I was able to roll over onto my side.  Unsure and nervous how my rib cage would take this effort, I rolled over onto my right side first.  It went without incident.  But when I rolled over onto my left side, my heart nearly jumped out of my chest, or at least that was what it felt like.  Even though prior to checking out of the hospital, I was told that I was so much better cardiac-wise than before, I would have sworn I was having a heart attack anytime that I rolled onto my left side.  Thus I went from being a light sleeper, to a no-sleeper.  I would never get into a deep enough sleep, called REM sleep I believe.

Until recently.  Several things in my life have been occurring, simultaneously or pyramiding, but it is alot.  The strange thing is that I do not really acknowledge them necessarily as stressful.  At least not consciously.  But I do know that my sleeping has been dramatically effected to the point where I average two to three hours a night, and on at least three occasions in the last month, including this past weekend, I had zero sleep.

Here is what a normal and healthy person can expect without a decent amount of sleep.  Memory and cognitive functioning can be affected.  Logic can be thrown out the window.  Stress and irritability increase.  Lack of sleep can affect our job performance as well as safety.  One other activity that comes to mind when the mind is abused like this, consuming alchohol.  Do not even get me started on fatigue.  The body needs rest to recover from the day’s activities.

And what do you suppose will happen to a body that has been extremely compromised from cancer treatments and surgeries that have changed the physiology of the body?  But before I get to that point, I need to find out what happens when the brain just will not shut down?

It is pure coincidence I am certain, that the escalated insomnia occurred when I stopped drinking the large amount of Coca-Cola (up to three liters a day).  I keep a very busy and tight schedule, often missing meals.  I had no issue with this because I traded calories for soda.  I want to believe that perhaps my body reacted to the lack of sugar and caffeine by shifting into its own natural adrenaline gear.  The only problem with it, unlike the “down” that goes with the “up” of soda, I do not seem to have a “down” for this.

To complicate this matter even further, one of my late effect issues, which I believe has still not been narrowed down exactly, though procedures have definitely defined symptoms, involves a nightly battle with reflux.  It is frustrating to me, because I have made all of the changes that the doctors thought would resolve this issue (which is actually complicated with a difficulty of swallowing issue).  The head of my bed has been raised.  I have doubled the amount of PPI (a prescription to reduce acid production).  I have eliminated most foods that contain or produce acid, especially carbonated beverages.  And I certainly do not eat anything after seven o’clock in general (unless I have gotten home late from some event).

One thing that I have learned I can count on, it is in the early morning hours, I will begin to cough.  And that coughing will result in some production of reflux.  If I am lucky, I can go back to sleep.  If I am not, on at least two out of three occasions, I have landed in the emergency room diagnosed with pneumonia (one accompanied with sepsis, the other double pneumonia).  The causes of the pneumonias went undiagnosed, but one test that had been done on me, found an issue in my esophagus, called a diverticulum.  It was explained to me, that this fault had the potential to trap bacteria in my esophagus, which could then lead to what is called aspiration pneumonia.

Of course, I understand without looking in a dictionary, the word aspiration to be related to choking or loss of air, unable to breathe.  And that is what the two ER visits began with.  So, nearly every night, I wonder, is this going to be the night that finally gets me.  Am I paranoid or afraid to go to sleep?  Am I just too keyed up to turn my mind off?  With everything on my plate, whether willing to admit it or not, is my body under too much stress.

One thing I do know, I need to get a grip on this.  The most notable victim/patient of insomnia was Michael Jackson.

“Daddy’s Never Going To Let Us Have A Puppy”


I am biased, my daughters are beautiful and cute.  But they are also manipulative.  I caught on to just how powerful both are many years ago, and it was not long after that they realized how to deal with me, being aware of their powers of the mind.  For others however, you will not be as lucky.  Even Wendy has only caught on just a couple of years ago.

It was during dinner, when Madison blurted out, “Daddy, can I have a chameleon?”  In spite of being outnumbered by four-legged animals in our house, my answer was still going to be “no”, because I am only willing to go as far as furry animals for pets.  As usual, Madison turns on her negotiating skills, all animals appear to be reptilian in nature.  However, once she realizes that my answer is always going to be “no”, she changes her performance level.  She runs through nearly all emotions, beginning with cute, then disappointment, then anger, then sorrow.

Of course I am firm, and I am relying on Wendy to hold her ground, which she is not known for.  Just like that, tears start to fall from Madison’s one eye.  Dammit, Madison is taking this to a whole new level.  I know that I am still good.  My attention is on Wendy hoping she will not crack.  “Hold on Wendy, you can get through this,” I say to myself.  And then an odd thing happens and there is no reason for it.  Madison starts laughing, but the tears are still coming out hard and furious.

This is no longer funny.  This goes beyond crocodile tears.  Madison can cry on demand.  The only time I was not prepared for Madison and tears, was in the event of a painful event, whether physical or emotional.  But as a manipulation?  But what Madison did not realize, is that Wendy would now adapt to this new strategy.

Both Madison and Emmalie have great hearts, endless compassion and empathy.  But Madison has a whole other level of the emotions when it comes to animals.  I cannot recall if I ever wrote about our Pittsburgh kitten, if not, I will have to put that one down, because it is the classic tale of how to make Dad crumble, and in front of family and friends.

There have probably been at least a half dozen attempts by all the females in our house to increase the animal population.  There are many reasons at this point for me to say no, from expenses to safety.  Safety being sensativity to increasing the risks of developing allergies.  The more concentrated and amount of fur, the better the chances of the immune system turning on us.  Then there is the fact that Pollo is a much older dog, and may not do well with the energy of a young puppy.  While some may think he would do well with the company, the truth is, that it would be an experiment.  And finally, I want to give all my attention to Pollo at this point.  I do not know how much longer I can expect him to go at thirteen years of age for a golden retriever.

And so, another attempt was made last night.  With an upcoming birthday party for my younger daughter, I spent my evening cleaning up my yard.  My family has already gotten me once before with the “surprise pet trick,” and I still never see it coming.  But I figured that since they were coming home from karate lessons, and Emmy’s birthday coming soon, that when my daughters arrived back at home and said, “Daddy, you need to come and see,” I clearly was not expecting anything other than something to do with the party or birthday.  So evidently I was not moving fast enough, Wendy came outside to greet me instead.

She flipped open her phone to reveal a puppy.  Not just any puppy, but she had taken the girls into the one local pet store that we both despise, because we know where they get their animals and the conditions that the animals are subjected to.  But with two young children tagging along, it makes the job of the pet store a lot easier to sell the animals.

So, here I was covered in grass clippings from weed wacking, and two normally beautiful little girls filled to the brim with excitement wanted me to get into the car, and take the ride with them, back to the pet store.  The dog would be ours if we chose.  The problem for my family, it needed to be unanimous, and the decision was not going to be.

This is what I gave up for my selfish decision.  My youngest was going to make it the best Father’s Day ever.  Madison hugged me like I was about to be shipped overseas.  And then out came the stories on just how cute the puppy was.  It was a great assault on my empathetic system.  But as I am known to do, I made the difficult situation for all of us.  I had to say “no.”

Of course, the ten year old mind, and the eight year old mind do not understand my decision.  Together they have oversimplified the conversation in that Daddy will never allow them to get a puppy again which was not fair because Pollo was not a puppy when we adopted them.  I did my best to assure them, this was not the case.  But simply it was going to t take time.  I knew they would not understand that.  But I had to try.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Counting Grains Of Sand


I remember as a child, and I see it in my own children, the excitement that builds with an upcoming holiday, birthday or vacation.  If I recall, that is what motivated me to look at a calendar, so that I could do the actual figuring myself as the grown ups around me did not share my enthusiasm.  I miss those days, alot.

As an adult, we can share that same excitment.  It could be a wedding date.  There were two exciting dates that Wendy and I had been waiting for, the days that our daughters would be placed in our arms.

But what happens when the event that you are looking towards is not going due to a happy event or occasion.  There are no party favors or souvinirs.  Instead, fear replaces joy.  Emotions and temperment run short.

One such occasion for me could have been when I had my open heart surgery.  I was lucky.  I had less than fifteen hours to think about the major change that was going to occur in my life.  The majority of that time was spent still coming out of anesthesia and going through pre-surgical testing.  When all was said and done, I really only had approximately five or six hours to worry about what life would be like.  The fact is, many people face open heart surgery, and unless it is due to a heart attack, that surgery may take weeks to be performed.

My Father now finds himself in that very situation.  A couple of months ago, he went to his family doctor for a chronic cough.  We are talking several months.  His doctor having already tried various modes of treatment, made the decision to order a very expensive test, a CT scan, much to my father’s objections.  As it turned out, jumping right to that test may just mean the difference between life and death.  And I do not say it that way for dramatic effect.

A little over a month ago, my dad was diagnosed with lung cancer.  More importantly, and in his favor, Stage 1, meaning that the tumor has not spread to other organs or other parts of his body.  His cancer was caught early.  His best option for treatment is surgery.  Unfortunately, it will not just be the tumor that is being removed, but his entire lung.

He has another couple of weeks before the procedure.  He has gone through a lot more than one person ought to experience in one life.  This no doubt will be the biggest event in his life as it will result in a major lifestyle change for him, no more smoking.  He had been smoking for 57 years and even with a major heart attack, and the beginning stages of emphasema, he was not able to quit.  My dad has now officially quit.  He is quite lucky.  I remember the “blackened” lung that was always put on display back in elementary health class as to convince us smoking was bad.  My dad’s lung does not look like that, which is surprising for as long as he has been smoking.  His cancer is currently a small tumor.  And if watching the calendar was not bad enough, getting rid of the cancer must be done soon.

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