Paul's Heart

Recovery From The Big Storm

The last 96 hours will go down for me as one big blur.  Everything happening without time to take a single breath.  Having to continue on with care for the children, and working to put food on the table, in spite of the horrific storm that was called Sandy.

Prior to the arrival of the storm, we had prepared our house for as best as we could.  Last year’s Irene dumped a lot of rain on us, and we figured that was what would happen again.  We had flashlights, lots of dry firewood, coolers with ice, clean clothing, and plans on how to deal with the kids.  Then Monday night, around 9:30pm in the heat of the storm, the power went out.

Our story for the next two days in this area  is probably very similar to so many others.  But for those in our lives, miles away, in New Jersey and New York, especially close friends of mine in Manhattan, once again they are faced with a monumental recovery effort.  The Jersey Shore must rebuild.  Manhattan needs to get its tranportation back up and running.  A neighborhood in Queens must console each other with the loss of an entire neighborhood up in flames.

There will be plenty of rhetoric about climate change.  There will be accusations of taking advantage of tragedy for political gains.  And I am sure that there will even be zealots who will claim to cry out in God’s name, that somehow we are being punished.  The fact is, none of that stuff matters at this very moment.  With a lot of us having power restored, we can now see a lot of the devastation left behind. 

For the most part, the majority of us are now in clean up mode.  Many will be rebuilding.  Others will just sit and wonder “where do we go from here?”

Just before the power was restored in my home, a stranger, who happened to be a friend of one of my Facebook friends, reached out to me yesterday to offer to help me drain my flooded basement, as he had a generator.  I gladly accepted his offer, connected everything, and then shared a couple of beers while we watched the water pour out of the hose.

Bryan took time away from his wife and children to help out a total stranger.  Having the water drained made a difference as the water was just an inch away from my furnace box and the electricals of my washer and dryer.  In spite of the safety of the stagnant rising water, I walked through to unplug everything just in case the power came on so nothing would short out.  About two hours after he left, our power came back on.

It turns out, this could have made all the difference in the world as water had returned to my basement prior to the electric being turned on, which clearly would have destroyed my furnace making a bad situation even worse.  Instead, the power came on, the sump had an easier job to do, and tonight I got started on clean-up instead of dial-up (to the insurance company).

This was an awesome gesture, and will not be forgotten.  It is also a good news story in an awful time period.  In time, after the media is done sensationalizing Hurricane Sandy, there will be much better stories such as random acts of kindness or miracles.  Perhaps a baby will have been born during the storm, pets being rescued and reunited with their owners.  It is only a matter of time.  Snookie will finally have to get a real job.  Good news will come.

Keeping Things In Perspective

The last twelve hours have probably been the scariest I have seen in a number of years.  We have just faced our second major weather storm in two years.  Last year’s Irene packed a lot of rain to her.  But this year’s Sandy had all the makings of a real hurricane to hit this area in a long time.  Howling winds, streets littered with debris, and water collecting in our basement were all reminders of what we were going through.

For the second time in two years, I could not sleep.

At the time that I would normally wake up for work in the morning, I was already awake, never really drifting off to sleep.  After last year’s Irene I was too worried about the possibilities of spawned tornados or any other danger to our home.  With two small children and several pets, along with my wife, we knew our priorities, to keep everyone safe.

So before I left for work, I grabbed the flashlight, and searched around the inside of the house.  I had already heard the girls were awake, but fooled by the late darkness this morning, they went back to bed.  Our garage was dry.  Our basement had quite a bit of water in it.  Our dog had been anxiously waiting to go outside to take care of business.  It was fairly calm at that time, and I glanced around the back and front yards.  Everything seemed in place, trees still standing.  All our outdoor belongings stored on the porch for the storm remained as they were placed.  The trees mostly stripped of their leaves which now lay on the ground.

My family is safe.  I hope yours is too.  When I get home from work, myonly hope at this point, is that my roof is intact.  The things that are down in my water soaked basement will be dealt with as soon as I get home, provided the power has been restored by then.  If anything is damaged, it can be replaced.  Food that did not survive in the refrigerator/freezer can be replaced.  My family cannot be replaced.

My Doctor, My Friend

“Health care costs are out of control!”

“Doctors need to stop ordering wasteful tests and pushing prescriptions!”

“They are all in ‘bed’ with big pharmaceuticals and insurance!”

Nearly everywhere I turn there is a constant assault on the medical profession due to neverending cost increases.  This assault unfortunately discredits a field many of us are not qualified to do, and many owe our lives to.  Society wants to have someone to blame.  And in order to blame something, you have to be able to see it to judge it.  We do not really get opportunities to see big pharm and insurance companies in action to see the millions in profits that they take from risky bets on our health.  But doctors are located everywhere, and we know where ours our located.

I have had exactly three doctors in my short life of 46 years.  My first doctor died still practicing medicine at the age of 86.  His hands were quite shaky so it was as good thing that I only needed care for common colds.  But he was the perfect example of the old “house call” physicians.  No matter time of day or night, day of the week, or holidays, if he had been treating your for some ailment, you could expect follow up calls no matter what.  There was an artifact in his office that I will always remember him for, an uncancelled ticket for the Hindenburg.  Yes, he was that old.

My next doctor only saw me for a couple of years before he retired.  But it was he that made one of the biggest discoveries in my life, my diagnosis of cancer.  Well, not exactly.  Based on the symptoms that I had, he treated me for a common cold.  Go ahead, rapidly shake your head back and forth and go WHAT!?!?  Confuse cancer with a cold?!?!  What kind of doctor…

My answer, he was a great doctor.  Medical history would show, that diagnosis of Hodgkin’s Disease was difficult, and rare.  It was his persistance with me, when I did not respond to low level treatments that led him to press me to see my first of several oncologists where I would be introduced informally to cancer.  Then several doctors later, formally introduced with Stage 3b Hodgkin’s Disease, nodular sclerosing, very serious.

But my third and as far as I am concerned, final family doctor took over my last doctor’s practice.  I have been her patient for over twenty years.  Our age is similar, so I have warned her that when she chooses to retire, I will retire from seeing doctors.  Her husband practices with her, yet it is she that I insist on seeing (though to be quite fair, he is just as good a doctor – I have never asked if they have ever wondered who was better).

Up until the 1980′s, you went to “a” doctor, one.  To help ease overhead costs, doctors took on partners.  Eventually the term “clinic” would be included in the name with the doctor’s practice.  Doctors would be able to extend hours, take certain days off each week, and probably much more conveniences.  But it would also mean that doctors could see more patients.

Currently, I live an hour away from my family doctor.  Admittedly, I have tried to find someone I could be comfortable with locally, but gave up trying a long time ago.  I will even put off an appointment with her husband or the other partner, and wait for her first opening perhaps three days later.

My stubbornness is quite easy to understand.  Dr. J is more than just a doctor to me.  She is an advocate for me.  Her knowledge of me, makes her more valuable than the latest diagnostic machinery.  Her persistence and commitment with my health is never questioned.  And though we have never hung out with each other, I consider her one of my closest friends.  She is loyal, honest, and definitely cares.  Dr. J knows me well enough, if I complain about something, even if it does not show up on an MRI, she will find the cause, not just throw a prescription at me to see if it will do the trick.

Unfortunately, critics state, in general terms, doctors order too many nonsense tests and prescribe way too many drugs.  This statement is shouted so loud from disgruntled patients to politicians.  And because of its generality, it unfairly characterizes the great doctors such as Dr. J (and her husband too!).

I would like to give an example of just how good she is as my doctor.  I was hurt at work, and going through the Worker’s Comp program, there could be no firm diagnosis of the injury so I had been treated with cortico steroids.  Still in pain, the WC doctor told me there was nothing more that could be done.  After the time limit expired, releasing me to see the doctor of my choice, I went immediately to Dr. J who ordered an MRI.  I ended up being referred back to the orthopedist that told me he could do nothing more for me.  He scoffed at the idea of doing a second MRI on me and refused.  When I explained to him that this order came from my physician outside of WC, he complied.  And guess what?  A small tear in a minor piece of cartilege in my wrist was the cause.  The cartilege itself was not a big piece, but the tear was enough to cause the pain.

But I will give you a better example of just how good my doctor is, and that as far as I am concerned, I am worth every test that she orders.  A few years ago, after dealing with chest discomfort for nearly four months, I placed a call to Dr. J’s practice.  There were no other obvious symptoms, yet she ordered a test that is not normally given to a 40 year old man.  Immediately following that scan, I was discouraged from even leaving the office and was advised to check in immediately to the hospital next door.  I would have emergency life-saving heart bypass surgery.  They call the type of damage to my artery a “widowmaker” because people do not normally survive this situation.  It typically leads to a fatal heart attack as EMT’s are not prepared to do open heart surgery in the field which is what would be needed.  Her being able to judge me, and know me, led to her preventing my fatal heart attack.  As I was warned by the cardiologist, “it was not a question if I was going to die, but when”.

Dr. J will be my doctor for the rest of my life.  I trust her not to presribe anything that I do not need.  In fact, she goes as far as to research any meds that I do take, to make sure that they do not interact or interfere with each other.  She does not see me often, perhaps once or twice a year at most, so she does not make hand over fist from me.

That does not mean that I am naive as to billing practices of pharmaceutical companies and insurance companies.  I have seen my bills.  But when it comes to the rising costs of health care, Dr. J (and her husband) are off limits!  And I am certain there are other doctors in the world just as good who are unfairly lumped into the administrative crisis of health costs.