Paul's Heart

Life As A Dad, And A Survivor

07 Nov 2023

Brakes On A Rite Of Passage


It is a rite of passage. It is also one of a parent’s biggest fears. A teenager in the family reaches the age, to be eligible to apply for their learner’s permit, and eventually earn their driver’s license. I earned my license by the time I turned 16 years of age. So, it should have only been natural to expect my daughters to have theirs around that same age. But that is not the way the plan worked out. In fact, unfortunately for them, they are not likely to see a license until their early twenties. On one hand, yes, it sucks. On another hand, it is safer for them. On yet another hand, it makes great money sense. But just as apparently having three hands does not make sense, when you consider the safety and the money concerns, it actually makes common sense.

First there is the motive for getting a driver’s license… freedom. A teenager will finally have the freedom to go pretty much where ever and when ever they choose. The downside? Parents expecting quid pro quo. “You want the car, you need to run here and do this for me.” The teenager soon learns they have been played into a role of errand runner. I personally did not bite on that as a teen driver. I chose to walk to school (4 miles, yes up hills and down hills, in the winter in 2 feet of snow…literally) for two reasons. One, parking was a nightmare living in the city. But the other reason, I needed to drive my kid sister with me. This could not have been any more inconvenient as it interfered with any after school plans.

But before long, I found out driving was also expensive. Gas was pricing out around $1.25 per gallon. There was also car insurance to pay, and being a male teen driver meant I would pay a lot more due to “risk” factors. And then, car maintenance was added to my expenses. This of course meant I needed a job, something that would give me at least enough to cover the car expenses, which sucked because then I would need to work more, if I wanted to do anything with the car. But working more, meant I would not be available to do the things I was trying to do with the car. A vicious cycle.

For forty-two years, I have been a very good driver, safe. I have not been responsible for one traffic accident. I have been in two accidents, neither my fault, and both leaving an impression on me, how bad things could have been. I have had many friends in car accidents, and my first ex wife was nearly killed in a head-on car collision. So there was a lot to think about as my daughters approached their fifteenth birthdays.

There was one more complication for my daughters, no fault of their own. Their mother and I divorced by the time they were eligible to drive, adding two new drivers was going to be a huge financial burden on both of us, really neither of us could afford. Sure, there were fears about accidents which all parents go through, but for me it was simple, can we afford it?

When faced with a problem, I try to be rational, no emotions. I want to think of all the factors necessary to make the right decision, not necessarily fair.

Having established that parentally, financially it was not possible, that meant that my daughters would have to foot the finances of operating a car. That meant them getting a job, as mentioned above. But here is the thing. As a parent, as opposed to when I was an unguided teenager, I felt school was more important, which meant having time for homework and studying, than working at a job. Sure, there were social and skill building opportunities with a job, but any work would only be allowed on the weekends, not on school nights. Hard to operate a car, working only a couple days a week. And at that point, you are working only for car opportunities, and nothing else.

Looking at the expenses of the car, of course, buying a car, most likely a used one, meant there would likely be frequent trips to the garage for repair, along with a car payment, gas, and of course insurance. Financially this was just not possible. That aside, how much sense did it really make after all? To drive a car for two years, then head off to college, where they would not be able to drive as many colleges do not allow driving in the first year, and depending where attending colleges, driving is discouraged for many reasons, especially parking convenience.

While I cannot guess the expense of a used car payment, or how much gas would be consumed, let’s just look at paying car insurance for say, just the period of time between graduation, and the first two years of college. It is probably a good guess that the average cost would total around $2500 a year, just to be able to drive the few weeks during breaks. Now I do not know about you, but I know a lot more important things I could do with $2500 than just have that temporary convenience.

With ridesharing, comes an option that gave my daughters two types of opportunities. The first, if either of their parents were not available to drive, they could simply call for an Uber. Of course, being in a big city college, they will learn to take public transportation. Both of these are cheaper options than car ownership and licensing. But being young consumers, this also gives my daughters an opportunity to learn financial responsibility and living within their means, while they build up credit as young adults. Having a car in the big city, they would quickly learn about parking fees, and likely driving citations, added to the other financial things that come with a license and car ownership.

Yes, I am a parental buzzkill, seemingly having deprived my daughters the opportunity to drive. While safety is always a concern, even well into their adulthood, for me, it was much more important for them to learn financial responsibility and that what seems like an inconvenience, actually bought time for something better.

Posted in Adoption, Education, Family and Friends, Inspired By..., Recreation | Leave a comment
18 Oct 2023

Takes A Licking


A few stories came across my feed this morning from pages that I support in regard to heart surgery survivors. Though it has been over fifteen years since my emergency open heart surgery to perform a double bypass, I recall every detail as it if happened only yesterday (much to the dismay of those in my life frustrated by my inability to remember five minutes ago).

The first deals with aftercare, as in one of the first things upon discharge, or just before discharge. There is a huge scar in the middle of the chest now, protected by a bandage or sometimes called a dressing. Under normal conditions, when a patient returns home, there is most likely going to be a visiting nurse for the first week, just to make sure the incision is healing properly, and vitals (blood pressure, pulse) are still doing well.

This particular survivor’s dressing had not been removed prior to departing the hospital, so it was planned to be removed with the visiting nurse’s first visit. The nurse never came. And as most wounds heal, they have a tendency to itch, and the survivor became an impatient patient, wanting to remove the bandage on her own.

To many, this would seem an easy thing to resolve, but to someone recently dealing with the recent trauma of heart surgery, we look for either reassurance or direction. There is a reason a health professional should be the one to remove the dressing, and that is mainly, to examine the incision. While a patient looking out their chest wound may feel confident that all looks fine, a trained professional should be the one to make that call. The last thing that needs to happen is to have an infection develop, which would only lead to things worse than the heart surgery itself.

For me it was simple, make a call to the surgeon’s office, or cardiologist, and make them aware of the “no show” nurse. While the doctor may feel it is okay to remove the bandage yourself, there is still the need for the patient to be seen while recovering at home.

As we recover from heart surgery, there are many adjustments that need to be made, some immediately, like sleeping positions, and some over time, such as diet and activities. The next two situations deal with this.

One patient who is seven weeks post surgery, has thoughts on the upcoming Winter holiday season, which will mean a lengthy drive, both ways for them. While this is still two months away, comfort of the chest and overall comfort can still be a legitimate concern.

My ride home from the hospital was an hour long, bumpy and shaky ride. I often felt like riding in a covered wagon on a dirt road would have been a smoother ride. But travelling a couple months, while might still involve comfort, tolerance by the rest of the body could be an issue. Full recovery from open heart surgery, is not usually considered until three months, and that is when it is followed by cardiac rehab, possibly physical rehab. And honestly, you do not need to have gone through heart surgery to experience the fatigue of not just a two hour drive one way, but a two hour drive back, all in the same day.

There is a fairly good chance, that the patient will be fine, perhaps nothing more than a bit more tired, and then hopefully be allowed the opportunity to get the additional rest needed. But there is also a chance, that this kind of trip might still be too much to handle. I did make the recommendation that if they can, use the “heart” pillow they were given, to place it between the seatbelt and their chest to provide some cushion. Ultimately, it might even be a gameday decision whether or not to make that trip, and under no circumstances should they feel guilty if that morning they decide, it is just too much.

The final story is a bit more extreme, and unfortunate. While I disagree with the way the patient/survivor is acting, I do feel that his care team should have done more at least in the beginning.

When anyone undergoes a major lifesaving surgery, regardless what it is, it often gets referred to as a second chance at life. For some of us, we may need third, fourth, fifth or more, depending on the circumstances. Regardless, following this surgery, it is supposed to be about appreciation for something almost taken away, a desire to do things differently, a “want” to live.

The writer expressed that her husband had just passed seven years from a quadruple bypass. In spite of this effort to save his life, he chose not to give up smoking, drinking, and refused to take any of the medications given to aid his recovery and help his longevity. The day before she wrote, he was in bad enough pain, that he “dropped to his knees.” He uses a nitro “spray” at least twice a week and has been exhibiting other symptoms. These things alone are concerning enough to go to the ER for attention.

Instead, she was focused on a “Pandora’s Box” question, how long the bypass would hold up, and was told by the doctor that likely ten years. To be honest, doctors generally will not give a time frame, at least not exact, because every situation is different. Mine for instance was over fifteen years ago, and is still quite patent, meaning I have many more years yet. But his health is bad enough, that she is concerned with his lack of compliance to do what was in his best interest, might he actually have less than ten years. He refuses to be seen by doctors. Some of the replies she is getting are quite harsh, not what she needs to be hearing, though truthful, his seeming lack of appreciation for a second shot at life.

There is a key component to his case. I see no mention of any emotional support. And as anyone who has undergone open heart surgery, the emotional issues that arise, in nearly everyone, need to be addressed on some level at some point. And it is clear that his were not. And it is unfortunate that he simply chooses to have his wife and caregiver suffer emotionally as well. His outlook clearly is not good.

It has been over 15 years since my first heart surgery. It was four years ago since my second heart surgery, and tomorrow marks the 2nd anniversary of my third heart surgery, to replace my aortic valve.

If I lived my life by “how long” each surgery will last, I had already passed the first surgery, and have six years for the second, and five years for the third. But here is the thing. I am not throwing away the chances given to me to live as long as I can. There are so many counting on me, and they mean everything to me and I would never want to hurt them by not giving a damn. That is not to say, that even doing the right things is guaranteed to get me the maximum time, then again, it could get me longer. But it starts with me, having an appreciation for the efforts made, on multiple times, to save my life.

Posted in Cancer, Education, Family and Friends, Inspired By..., Side Effects, The Heart | Leave a comment
12 Oct 2023

A Child’s Grief


Sad news came less than a week ago. A close friend of mine, more like a brother to me, passed away. He was sixty-three years old. As the picture above, from over fifteen years ago suggests, he was clearly too young. He had been diagnosed with ALS, Lou Gehrig’s Disease earlier in the year, which progressed rapidly. It is difficult to feel anything less than relief for someone who’s fight against ALS comes to an end, because the progression and results of the disease are just so cruel. Nonetheless, all who knew him, and care about his loved ones, are devastated by the loss.

This is actually the fourth time in less than twelve years that I have lost someone close to me from ALS, and the second time for my daughters. They lost their Uncle Mike, my brother-in-law back in 2012 to ALS. The two others that had passed away were friends, a co-worker, and a school board campaign running mate. Three out of the four, all had young children or barely adult age, when their fathers passed away.

All of these men left wives behind, again, three of them to not only grieve the loss of their soul mates and best friends, but also to provide support for their young, grieving children. My brother-in-law’s daughter was in her mid teens, my campaign running mates children were not even teenagers, and the small children pictured above are now in their early twenties.

For me personally, I had not experienced the loss of a parent until nine years ago with the passing of my father from lung cancer. I was in my later forties at the time. I know the loss that I still carry today following our unique history with each other, with me wishing I could have had more time to make up for time lost in my childhood.

My daughters do not know this level of grief. However, both of them do have several friends throughout their childhood who have experienced a parent’s death, whether suddenly or following an illness. My children have been taught empathy and always gave that whenever any circumstance came up that was hard for one of their friends. And as I said, their Uncle Mike passed away before they were ten, so they do not recall how difficult it had been for him in his fight against ALS.

But for Chris, there is a special bond with my one daughter, though both of my daughters have always been treated equally as family by he and his wife. My older daughter had been adopted together with their younger daughter, as we travelled together. And I made sure that my children stayed in touch with them throughout their childhood, through visits and reunions. The picture above is just one memory of many that my daughters are able to remember him during a time that was much happier.

It cannot be helped however, that my mind retreats to a very dark place every time someone in my life passes away, especially when there are young children involved. My health has been a struggle for years, with one health crisis after another, life threatening, two near fatal events. As I dealt with the first one, a “widow maker” heart blockage, that resulted in the statement from my cardiologist, “it wasn’t a question if you were going to die, but when,” referencing the imminent fatal heart attack that could have happened. My main thought used to be at one time, “what would my employer do without me? They need me,” trying to stall or prevent the corrective surgery. Following that emergency bypass surgery, I found out. They carried on without me. And when I recovered, and returned to work, it was business as usual. But clearly, they had done without me.

Reality had set in however, when told that I was that close to death. Work may have been able to get on without me, but my daughters were five and three years old at the time. That is when it sunk in, the pain that they would have had to endure, without me in their lives. Unfortunately, this scenario has played out so many times now, and fortunately my daughters still do not have to deal with that type of loss. And as my friends are now dealing with the loss of her husband, their father, I know my daughters are thinking of all of them, while at the same time realizing how serious their father’s health is, and not to take any time for granted.

I have had many over the years tell me that I am depress them thinking about death all of the time. That I “could be killed tomorrow crossing the street.” I am sure you have heard that expression. And while that possibility may be true, there is one main difference. A person that says that, does not have someone “pushing them into the path of the car,” making reference to the conditions of my body, being so compromised from the cancer treatments I went through years ago.

Studies have shown, survivors of Hodgkin’s Lymphoma treated decades ago, like me, have bodies that are internally artificially accelerated in age, by twenty to thirty years. To put that into perspective, I am sure you have heard comments like “smoking takes away so many years” or “eating a diet high in fat decreases life expectancy”. My cancer survival is the same way.

The fate of my fellow survivors occurs one in three ways. The first, those who have no idea what is causing their unusual health issues, because they were never told of their likely late side effects. The second, those who faced one corrective surgery after another, and then one too many, impossible to overcome complications. And the third, those whose bodies simply had enough. This just recently happened with one of my fellow survivors I just wrote about. Though she dealt with several issues, she had not felt anything imminent, and proceeded on a vacation, when she suddenly passed away. I am not in the first category, and so far, I have gotten through all of my surgical procedures and health events. Which can only leave me wondering, if I might be in that third possibility.

So that brings me back to my friend, and those others who passed from ALS. There was a time, I honestly thought I would have outlived them. And they would then be comforting my daughters.

Getting back to the comment about me “thinking about death all the time.” No, I don’t. I think about living, all the time. In order to do that, I need to do two things. The first, I need to listen to my doctors treating all of these issues, and follow their recommendations. The second thing, I have goals driving me, and of course they are associated with my daughters. It has not been easy getting to each, but I have done so, and there are so many more that I want to be around for. So no, I don’t think about death all of the time. I think about living. I live for my daughters because I am arrogant to believe that I can prevent them from the hurt of grief, though I know I have no control of my fate. That much is clear.

My heart is heavy not only for my friend’s wife, but for his two daughters. The hurt I have for my father I am sure pales in comparison to what they are feeling this evening, having only such a short time with their father, and so much more to experience in their lives. I wish there were more than just words to help them during this difficult time. But as one comment that I have made to them, there are just so many great memories and stories that I have of my friend, that while his passing was indeed tragic, it will not be the end that dominates our hearts as time goes on, but rather all the good times we shared.

But you will definitely be missed my friend.

Posted in Cancer, Education, Family and Friends, Inspired By..., Recreation, Side Effects, The Heart | Leave a comment

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