Send in your BEST.. send in 2 or more and they will not be printed The best only Please 6-10-09 Sent in by Marcia Thompson "Our journey into sleep medicine began in 1994, and our lives changed forever. I had been a Registered Nurse for many years, but sleep medicine had not been taught at the college I attended or mentioned at the various jobs I had held. My husband had 4 heart attacks from '94-'98. He underwent open heart surgery in '98. During the surgery his heart went into atrial fib, cardio version was attempted numerous times, but the heart remained in an abnormal rhythm despite the cardio version and numerous medications. He was scheduled to come home 4 days after the surgery. However, due to the complications, he was not discharged for over two weeks. Congestive heart failure (CHF), followed suit since his heart was more or less “jiggling like jello instead of beating” explained the doctors. His ejection fraction was very low when we brought him home (ejection fraction measures how much blood is pumped out of one’s heart each time it beats – normal is 50 or above). For the next three years, he was admitted to the hospital for CHF and other cardiac complications on the average of 8-9 times per year (not counting the ER visits). The cardiologists were unable to stabilize his heart back into a normal rhythm, his blood sugars were like a roller coaster, he was in a wheelchair, needed assistance with personal care, etc. His depression grew deeper. He went from a vital truck driver, hunter, fisherman, sports fan, to a "sick old useless man" (his quote, not mine). In 2001 he said "something" felt funny. He was a dusky gray color. We raced to the ER. A heart catheterization showed one of the two bypasses performed during his open heart surgery had occluded. The cardiologists stated there was no chance of further surgery due to no healthy heart tissue left in which to place a new graft. This hospital eventually told us they would discharge him, and "make him comfortable". They were sending him home to die and he knew it. One of the cardiologists I spoke with in desperation offered to send him to the University of Kentucky Medical Center in Lexington to be seen by a retired cardiologist which had been his “mentor”. We grabbed the bit of hope he offered. A few days later the heart transplant surgeon and his team walked in surrounding my husband’s bed. He had hope in his eyes for a few minutes as they introduced themselves, then he hit bottom again. The heart transplant surgeon told him he was on the "B" list, meaning he had “one shot in a billion of receiving a heart”. We asked why bother? He said their job was to keep him alive until technology could catch up - maybe tomorrow would bring new drugs, or new surgical techniques. My husband took the chance they offered. After they left, we learned he was being sent to the sleep lab for a sleep study. Being the “sleep medicine illiterate” person I was, I thought "What the heck does sleep have to do with his heart???" (Yeah, right...we were in for quite the education). We filled out the questionnaire and checked YES he snored (we had our best fights in bed!), YES he quit breathing in his sleep (I would elbow him in the tummy until he turned over and stopped snoring, then shake him when I realized he no longer was breathing). He or I would end up on the couch. This had been going on for years! Arriving at the sleep lab the next morning to see how he was, the techs knew I was an RN and raced to tell me all about the study, using medical terms I had never heard of. Some of the terms I grasped, and finally realized he had been slowly dying while lying next to me in our bed for over 14 years!!! During the study, he had stopped breathing 79 times per hour, his oxygen levels dropped as low as 60%, and his heart rate was in the 30-40’s!! I had to find a chair and a box of tissues when those numbers registered in my brain. He was sent home on CPAP therapy. Within three months his ejection fraction was up from 13 to 15. Within 6-9 months, he was out of the wheelchair, and walked to the surgeon’s office! (He sat for awhile on each bench on the way to the office, but he made it on his own steam!). During the nine month appointment with the heart transplant surgeon we learned he no longer met the criteria to be on the transplant list!!!!! His ejection fraction had risen to 17!! This was cause for celebration!! Until the doc explained his theory of my husband's illness to us....and when our eyes were fully opened, we were never the same. He stated the drugs had helped, the cardiac rehab had helped, but in his and his team's opinion it was the CPAP therapy taking the stress off the heart that was the key for his steps back to a better quality of life. He added the following statement: "IF ANY of your husband's previous cardiologists had sent him to a sleep lab and found the OSA after the first heart attack, he probably would have avoided the additional three MI’s, the CABG, and he sure would not be sitting in my office today". I thought my heart would break. I was supposed to be trained in the medical field, I was a professional!!!! But I was an ignorant professional. Instead of beating ourselves up, we promised lf if we ever had the opportunity to save someone from going through what my husband had, we would! We came home and immediately began telling everyone we knew about OSA and CPAP therapy – especially his family members due to OSA being common in certain families with risk factors such as obesity, cardiac disease, diabetes, and strokes. (Unfortunately his youngest brother who refused to be treated for hypertension died of a massive stroke in 2008 before we could convince him to make an appointment for a sleep study.) In 2005 I was given the opportunity to be a sleep technician at a sleep lab opening up in our small community. After hearing our personal story, I was hired, hopefully because my employers recognized my passion for sleep medicine placed there through my husband’s experiences. Since coming off the heart transplant list, he has had a pacemaker and defibrillator inserted and ablation done to try once more to place the heart back into a normal rhythm. Unfortunately, they didn’t work. However in November 2008, his cardiologist inserted a newly invented smaller cardiac stent and opened up the occluded bypass from 2001!!!!!!!! His ejection fraction rose to 25 - 30!!!!! Additionally, the part of his heart all of his cardiologists fondly refer to as the "dead zone", is today actually growing tiny blood vessels....who needs a new heart when his "original" is being so cooperative??????? As the years passed, CPAP therapy was switched to BIPAP therapy. In 2010 due to developing Cheyne Stokes breathing patterns, he was switched to ASV therapy to control the central apneas he had developed. The last time his ejection fraction was measured, the number had climbed to 35, a long way from 13!! Today on this nice fall day with the sun shining and the breeze blowing on his face, he is out riding our nieces on his 4-wheeler. The wheelchair is in the attic gathering dust. Every night when I go to work, or during every support group we are asked to speak at, we pray for the opportunity to tell someone my husband's story. We pray for at least one person to hear it, act upon it, and avoid what he has been through. He's my hero and by sharing his story we believe many lives have been saved. He’s also a veteran, and the latest statistics state the Vietnam Veterans are dying at a rate of 300+ per day, and OSA has been diagnosed in over 60% in this group of vets in the past 5 years. We know there are more vets out there that do not know these risks; this is our goal now, to educate my husband’s “brothers in arms”, and hopefully improve their quality of life with their families. Marcia L. Thompson, RN, RPSGT Sleep Elite KY State Sleep Society Board Member strawberri@gmail.comSent in by Doug Hendrixson > LEAVING THE JOB AND BEING A VETERAN > To All My Veteran Brothers: > > When a Veteran leaves the 'job' > and retires to another life, many are jealous, some are > pleased, and others, who may have already retired, wonder if > he knows what he is leaving behind, because we already > know. > > 1. We know, for example, that after a lifetime of > camaraderie that few experience, it will remain as a > longing for those past times. > > 2. We know in the Military life there is a fellowship > which lasts long after the uniforms are hung up in the > back of the closet. > > 3. We know even if he throws them away, they will be > on him with every step and breath that remains in his > life. We also know how the very bearing of the man speaks of > what he was and in his heart still is. > > These are the burdens of the job. You will still look > at people suspiciously, still see what others do not see or > choose to ignore and always will look at the rest of the > Military world with a respect for what they do; only > grown in a lifetime of knowing. Never think for > one moment you are escaping from that life. You are only > escaping the 'job' and merely being allowed to > leave 'active' duty. So what I wish for you is > that whenever you ease into retirement, in your heart > you never forget for one moment that you > are still a member of the greatest fraternity the world > has ever known. > > NOW! CIVILIAN FRIENDS VS. VETERAN FRIENDS > COMPARISONS > > CIVILIAN FRIENDS: Get upset if you're too busy to talk > to them for a week. > VETERAN FRIENDS: Are glad to see you after years, and will > happily carry on the same conversation you were having the > last time you met.. > --------------------------------------------------- > CIVILIAN FRIENDS: Have never seen you cry. > VETERAN FRIENDS: Have cried with you. > --------------------------------------------------- > CIVILIAN FRIENDS: Keep your stuff so long they forget > it's yours. > VETERAN FRIENDS: Borrow your stuff for a few days > then give it back. > ------------------------------------------------- > CIVILIAN FRIENDS: Know a few things about you. > VETERAN FRIENDS: Could write a book with direct quotes from > you. > --------------------------------------------------- > CIVILIAN FRIENDS: Will leave you behind if that's > what the crowd is doing. > VETERAN FRIENDS: Will kick the crowd's ass that left > you behind. > --------------------------------------------------- > CIVILIAN FRIENDS: Are for a while. > VETERAN FRIENDS: Are for life. > --------------------------------------------------- > CIVILIAN FRIENDS: Have shared a few experiences... > VETERAN FRIENDS: Have shared a lifetime of experiences no > citizen could ever dream of.. > --------------------------------------------------- > CIVILIAN FRIENDS: Will take your drink away when they > think you've had enough. > VETERAN FRIENDS: Will look at you stumbling all over the > place and say, 'You better drink the rest of that before > you spill it!' Then carry you home safely and put > you to bed... > --------------------------------------------------- > CIVILIAN > FRIENDS: Will talk crap to the person who talks crap > about you. > VETERAN FRIENDS: Will knock the hell out OF THEM... for > using your name in vain. > --------------------------------------------------- > CIVILIAN FRIENDS: Will ignore this. > VETERAN FRIENDS: Will forward this. > ---------------------------------------------------- > > A veteran - whether active duty, retired, or reserve - is > someone who, at one point in their life, wrote a blank check > made payable to 'The Government of the United > States of America' for an amount of 'up to and > including my life'. . . > > FOR THOSE OF YOU LUCKY ENOUGH TO BE > ONE; From one Veteran to > another, it's an honor to be in your company! > Sent in by Tim Dube We have the standard 6 ft. fence in the backyard, and a few months ago, I heard about burglaries increasing dramatically in the entire city. To make sure this never happened to me, I got an electric fence and ran a single wire along the top of the fence. Actually, I got the biggest cattle charger Tractor Supply had, made for 26 miles of fence. I then used an 8 ft. long ground rod, and drove it 7.5 feet into the ground. The ground rod is the key, with the more you have in the ground, the better the fence works. One day I'm mowing the back yard with my cheapo Wal-Mart 6 hp big wheel push mower. The hot wire is broken and laying out in the yard. I knew for a fact that I unplugged the charger. I pushed the mower around the wire and reached down to grab it, to throw it out of the way. It seems as though I hadn't remembered to unplug it after all. Now I'm standing there, I've got the running lawnmower in my right hand and the 1.7 giga-volt fence wire in the other hand. Keep in mind the charger is about the size of a marine battery and has a picture of an upside down cow on fire on the cover. Time stood still. The first thing I notice is my pecker trying to climb up the front side of my body. My ears curled downwards and I could feel the lawnmower ignition firing in the backside of my brain. Every time that Briggs & Stratton rolled over, I could feel the spark in my head. I was literally at one with the engine. It seems as though the fence charger and the piece of shit lawnmower were fighting over who would control my electrical impulses. Science says you cannot crap, pee, and vomit at the same time. I beg to differ. Not only did I do all three at once, but my bowels emptied 3 different times in less than half of a second. It was a Matrix kind of bowel movement, where time is creeping along and you're all leaned back and BAM BAM BAM you just crap your pants 3 times. It seemed like there were minutes in between but in reality it was so close together it was like exhaust pulses from a big block Chevy turning 8 grand. At this point I'm about 30 minutes (maybe 2 seconds) into holding onto the fence wire. My hand is wrapped around the wire palm down so I can't let go. I grew up on a farm so I know all about electric fences.....but Dad always had those pieces of shit chargers made by International or whoever that were like 9 volts and just kinda tickled. This one I could not let go of. The 8 foot long ground rod is now accepting signals from me through the permadamp Ark-La-Tex river bottom soil. At this point I'm thinking I'm going to have to just man up and take it, until the lawnmower runs out of gas. 'Damn!', I think, as I remember I just filled the tank! Now the lawnmower is starting to run rough. It has settled into a loping run pattern as if it had some kind of big lawnmower race cam in it. Covered in poop, pee, and with my vomit on my chest I think 'Oh God please die... Pleeeeaze die'. But nooooo, it settles into the rough lumpy cam idle nicely and remains there, like a big bore roller cam EFI motor waiting for the go command from its owner's right foot. So here I am in the middle of July, 104 degrees, 80% humidity, standing in my own backyard, begging God to kill me. God did not take me that day.....he left me there covered in my own fluids to writhe in the misery my own stupidity had created. I honestly don't know how I got loose from the wire...I woke up laying on the ground hours later. The lawnmower was beside me, out of gas. It was later on in the day and I was sunburned. There were two large dead grass spots where I had been standing, and then another long skinny dead spot where the wire had laid while I was on the ground still holding on to it. I assume I finally had a seizure and in the resulting thrashing had somehow let go of the wire. Upon waking from my electrically induced sleep I realized a few things: 1- Three of my teeth seem to have melted. 2- I now have cramps in the bottoms of my feet and my right butt cheek (not the left, just the right). 3- Poop, pee, and vomit when all mixed together, do not smell as bad as you might think. 4- My left eye will not open. 5- My right eye will not close. 6- The lawnmower runs better than new now. Seriously! I think our little session cleared out some carbon fouling or something, because it was better than new after that. 7- My nads are still smaller than average yet they are almost a foot long. 8- I can turn on the TV in the game room by farting while thinking of the number 4 (still don't understand this???). That day changed my life. I now have a newfound respect for things. I appreciate the little things more, and now I always triple check to make sure the fence is unplugged before I mow. The good news, is that if a burglar does try to come over the fence, I can clearly visualize what my security system will do to him, and THAT gives me a warm and fuzzy feeling all over, which also reminds me to triple check before I mow. Sent in by Richard Ferguson As I came out of the supermarket that sunny day, pushing my cart of groceries towards my car, I saw an old man with the hood of his car up and a lady sitting inside the car, with the door open.The old man was looking at the engine. I put my groceries away in my car and continued to watch the old gentleman from about twenty five feet away. I saw a young man in his early twenties with a grocery bag in his arm, walking towards the old man. The old gentleman saw him coming too, and took a steps towards him. I saw the old gentleman point to his open hood and say something. The young man put his grocery bag into what looked like a brand new Cadillac Escalade and then turn back to the old man and I heard him yell at the gentleman saying, 'Youshouldn't even be allowed to drive a car at your age.' And then with a wave of his hand, he got in his car and peeled rubber out of the parking lot. I saw the old gentleman pull out his handkerchief and mop his brow as hewent back to his car and again looked at the engine. He then went to his wife and spoke with her and appeared to tell her it would be okay. I had seen enough and I approached the old man. He saw me coming and stood straight and as I got near him I said,'Looks like you're having a problem.' He smiled sheepishly and quietly nodded his head. I looked under the hood myself and knew that whatever the problem was, it was beyond me. Looking around I saw a gas station up the road and told the old man that I would be right back. I drove to the station and went inside and saw three attendants working on cars. I approached one of them and related the problem the old man had with his car and offered to pay them if they could follow me back down and help him. The old man had pushed the heavy car under the shade of a tree and appeared to be comforting his wife. When he saw us, he straightened up and thanked me for my help. As the mechanics diagnosed the problem (overheated engine) I spoke with the old gentleman. When I shook hands with him earlier, he had noticed my Marine Corps ring and had commented about it, telling me that he had been a Marine too. I nodded and asked the question, 'What outfit did you serve with?' He had mentioned that he served with the first Marine Division at Tarawa, Saipan, Iwo Jima and Guadalcanal . He had hit all the big ones and retired from the Corps after the war was over. As we talked we heard the car engine come on and saw the mechanics lower the hood.. They came over to us as the old man reached for his wallet, but was stopped by me and I told him I would just put the bill on my AAA card. He still reached for the wallet and handed me a card that I assumed had his name and address on it and I stuck it in my pocket.. We all shook hands all around again and I said my goodbye's to his wife. I then told the two mechanics that I would follow them back up to the station. Once at the station I told them that they had interrupted their own jobs to come along with me and help the old man. I said I wanted to pay for the help, but they refused to charge me. One of them pulled out a card from his pocket looking exactly like the card the old man had given to me. Both of the men told me then, that they were Marine Corps Reserves. Once again we shook hands all around and as I was leaving, one of them told me I should look at the card the old man had given to me. I said I would and drove off. For some reason I had gone about two blocks when I pulled over and took the card out of my pocket and looked at it for a long, long time. The name of the old gentleman was in golden leaf and under his name 'Congressional Medal of Honor Society.' I sat there motionless looking at the card and reading it over and over. I looked up from the card and smiled to no one but myself and marveled that on this day, four Marines had all come together, because one of us needed help. He was an old man all right, but it felt good to have stood next to greatness and courage and an honor to have been in his presence. Remember, OLD men like him gave you FREEDOM for America . Thanks to those who served...and those who supported them. America is not at war. The U.S. Military is at war. America is at the Mall. If you don't stand behind our troops, PLEASE feel free to stand in front of them! Remember, Freedom isn't "Free" -- thousands have paid the price so you can enjoy what you have today. |