Monday, February 11, 2008

A STORY I HAVE TO TELL

It was the Summer of 2003 and I was up in our log yard measuring logs coming in from a big tract a finacial backer had bought for us and was wanting paid for. I started feeling weak and sorta sick. Not being a sissy I just went down to our big garage and sat in a chair. Sorta felt to take it easy. But I didn't start to feel any better. In fact I started to feel worse. I left the garage and went outside to my car and thought I would sit in there and get better. I sat there for a while and got real tired. Very tired.

I thought to lay over in the seat and maybe fall asleep and let what ever it was that was wearing me out pass from me and I would wake up feeling better. But as I strted to lay over in the seat I got a thought, "You go to sleep and you're a dead man." That brought me straight up in my seat. The thought of death concentrates a man's attention.

By this time I was not feeling better, but worse. Didn't know what the hell was wrong but I knew I needed help so I dialed 911. I got the dispatacher and they sent an ambulance pretty quick. Not much hassle. I backed the car around to where I could talk to the guy in the garage from my door window and asked him if he would go to where he could direct the ambuance to me when it came in. There was no way I was going to walk to wave to an ambulance. Strength seemed to have left me.

The ambulance got there and one of the paramedics cme to my door and asked me what was wrong. I told him and he said I had to get into the ambulance where they could check me out better. But they brought a gurney and made me get out of the car, on to the gurney and then to the ambulance. 20' max. But themn they had to get me into the ambulance and I weighed about 250 pounds at the time. But I helped them and we got my big ass in the back of the ambulance. The Paramedic started checking me out immediately and found out I was having some kind of heart problem. So the driver of the ambulance got the machine headed out the mill yard to the road. The Paramedic who was working on me said I had a fast beating heart and they were going to have to use the paddles on me. You know: The shockers. I said to go right ahead and do it. If that was what it was going to take then lets get to it. We no sooner had gotten out teh gate of the Mill and the guy said "Clear! and WHAM I got hit with the juice. Christ on a crutch it hurt! Then he checked my heartbeat again and found it had not stopped my fast beating heart. He said we had to use the paddles again only this tme DOUBLE the voltage they had done before.

We had pulled out on to a four lane highway from the road the Mill was on and headed toward the hospital. I told the guy running the paddles to go ahead and give me the juice. And God help me, he did. Doubke WHAM on the old chest. What a smash it was. About like geting hit on the chest with a ball bat swung by Ted Williams or somebody like that. I mean, it really clobbers you. By this time I am laying there on their little cot, feeling like I have been run over by a tank. Make that a tank retriever! But the gauges and scopes and all that stuff said my heart was beating normally again. Good news to my ears. I didn't want another round with the paddles.

They got me to the hospital and into the emergency room. I was feeling a little better. They first took me in a little room and a Cardiologist came to look at me. We determined that I had been in this Tachycardia for about 45 to 50 minutes. Tachycardia just means it was beating like crazy. It was sped up a bunch, as in 215 beats per minute. Then they told me that you can only be in this condition for four and a half to five minutes and then you die. The Cardiologist then announced to a group of 30 or 40 people that they were witnessing a miracle. The emergency ward had collected quite a few people who had come done to see what the deal was.

Then they hooked me up to the IV of stuff called Ameoderone. They said it was to allow my heart to be controlled and not take off again. I was immediately suspicious of this stuff. I don't like pills and shots and medicine in general. I don't get along very well with the doctors and nurses. The Paramedics had essentially saved my life, not the hospital. They had gotten me into a little bit bigger room in the emergency ward and most of the curious had gone about their business. Just my wife was hanging around, crying like a sick puppy. I hate that crying stuff. She finally quit. So I am laying there amd my cell phone rang and it was one of my ex-wives, the mother of my children, calling me from Nevada. She said, "Don't you dare die you mean old sonovabitch!" I assured her I would not die. You must comfort the feebleminded. And don't ask me how she found out I was in the hospital. Somebody snitched me out.

So much to the discomfort of the staff at the hospital I was admitted to the intensive care unit for over night. Man oh man, was that ever a drag. And I smoke and they said I couldn't so I said I was going outside to smoke any way and they said it would cancel my insurance coverage (lie) and I said I'll see you in a few minutes. They brought me a wheel chair and I commenced to go smoke a cigarette. Simple enough. But I decided at that point to do all my medical nonsense on an outpatient basis. I hate hospitals. Don't like all the fools telling me what to do. Bright and early the next morning the let me go home. Man! Was I ever glad to get down to the Barn to talk to the fellas.

In 2004 I had a defibrillator put in my chest. It doesn't cure you of a damn thing. It merely shocks the hell out of you if your heart starts going to fast. I got hit with it 3 or 4 times in 2oo4. Same old ball bat hitting my chest. I got on the Internet and found out that there was this medicine called a beta blocker invented by this Doctor Black from Scotland and it might stop my heart from taking off. I started on it late in the year 2004. I went through 2005, 2006, and 2007 with no shocks being put to my heart. I like those beta blockers. Especially when I found out that I could get generic beta blockers from Walmart for $4 per month. Then I found out I could get them for $15 for 3 months supply at K-Mart. It's around 30 miles round trip to town and back. At 17 miles to the gallon and gas at $3 per gallon you can understand why I buy from K-Mart.

I am now in my fourth year of no shocks to my heart. I am pleased as hell about this and have thanked God and will continue to thank him. But I will never forget that Doctor telling all those people, "Ladies and Gentlemen, we are witnessing a miracle!" I just feel it's right and proper to say that I ain't gonna depart this plane until God says it's time. Think about it. It's true.

Stay with God and stay alive.

Michael
mboone@rtccom.net

2 comments:

Yay ya said...

who developed pacemakers and telephones and ambulances and drug manufacturers and all those skaggy things like that... Your arrogance appalls those who see God in life’s abundant diversity…. Pray God has a sense of humor and thinks your fat ass is funny.

Yay ya said...

oops cut off some of the post... here it is all together....

"Don't you dare die you mean old sonovabitch!" I assured her I would not die. You must comfort the feebleminded. And don't ask me how she found out I was in the hospital. Somebody snitched me
Not sure that is what I said but regardless…
Yeah the feebleminded who took care of business which, as Daniel (who you so like to quote) always said, what the men don't take care of the women have to ... you are a stupid old sonofabitch and I don't really care if you croak or not - but was reacting as mother's do to their children... While you are busy thanking the almighty give a credit or two to the men and women who developed pacemakers and telephones and ambulances and all those skaggy things like that... Your arrogance appalls those who see God in life’s abundant diversity…. Pray God has a sense of humor and thinks your fat ass is funny.