WARNING: this may trigger an emotional response with respect to medically assisted dying or the end of the road for me. ========================================== Nothing quite says terminal like an approved MAiD application. After being interviewed by two doctors, I am now able to arrange for this procedure. You can see from what’s been checked off by the doctor on the MAiD form, I clearly qualify. One doctor even said MAiD was designed for people with conditions like mine. Decisions that remain are where I would like the procedure to take place (home, hospital, somewhere else) and when. I’m not quite ready to pick a date, but I have decided I would like the procedure to take place in the hospital. Another question is who I would like to be there with me. That’s a hard one. I continue to pursue the possibility of a lung transplant, but the outlook is pessimistic. All the preliminary tests have been completed and while I passed the heart and stress tests, I did not do well
Posts
I never ever thought I would be in the situation where I’m planning for a power failure, but being dependent on oxygen 24/7 changes priorities. If the power is interrupted for a brief period, I can switch to an oxygen tank. However, if it's going to last longer than a couple of hours, then I need to go somewhere I can plug in the oxygen concentrator. I wrote to Maritime Electric to find out what they do. Here is part of their response: "[We] will … flag your home address. This flag means that if there should be an unexpected power outage in your area your home would be on the priority list to get back on as soon as possible. Same thing for a scheduled outage but we would make sure to contact you so that you could make alternate plans if possible." And that’s what I’ve done. I contacted the CAO of Miltonvale Park, the community in which I live. Shari MacDonald tells me Milton Community Hall has a back-up generator that automatically comes on when the power fails. The Ha
The air faintly ripples with intense solar energy Is this the last heat of summer? I plant my bare feet on the grass And feel the earth beneath the scratchy weeds. No supplement D for this guy you see Gotta get my Vitamin D naturally. I slowly ease my near naked body Into a chair that is supposed to defy Gravity But we all know Gravity will not accept defiance Gravity only knows how to deliver A serious put-down Major Tom: does Gravity always win? Out of the corner of my eye Down a corridor of my mind Darkness lies And like Gravity refuses to be ignored.
It was intake day at the Pulmonary Rehab Clinic which is located at UPEI. The respiratory therapist and the physiotherapist had a raft of medical questions and as well as taking down my answers they also took a couple of vials of my blood. Among the doctors, the hospital, and now this clinic, my blood has had more analysis than Sigmund Freud’s first three patients. The exercise part of the clinic work begins next Tuesday afternoon and happens two days a week. These folks will design an exercise program which we hope will help me recover some of my strength. I’ll not only have access to a respiratory therapist and a physiotherapist, but a dietician as well. I’m looking forward to this and unlike Amy Winehouse, I want to go to rehab, yeah, yeah, yeah. The afternoon started with a consultation with a doctor who evaluates people applying for Medical Assistance in Dying (MAiD). It was a conversation that lasted over an hour and explored my attitudes, my passions, my hobbies, my reasons for
Looking At What's Next Sunday, September 11, 2022 6:22 PM I knew the decline in my overall health was precipitous, but until I began looking back through photos from four, five and six months ago, I don't think I fully understood where I'm at. Six months ago, I was out and about, fully mobile, walking several klicks a day. Now I'm housebound. I am so oxygen deprived even on oxygen just about any activity leaves me winded or coughing or both. To get some homemade soup out of the fridge, into a bowl, and re-heated it in the microwave was a major effort. I'm weak. I have little energy. Getting out of bed is a ten-minute production. We all know where this is heading. I still enjoy reading. Watching a little TV now we're back in town is a treat. If you have not yet seen CBC's Race Against The Tide, treat yourself. I think the first season with Shaun Mjumder is more fun than Season 2 with Maestro Fresh Wes as host. To be fair, Season 1 had a PEI con
Lord Alan Craig Mackie Thursday, September 8, 2022 10:34 PM Little known fact about Craig. On June 16, 2021, I was granted the title " Lord" by Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II. ** This came about when my son, Scott, purchased, as a Father’s Day gift, a plot of land (5’ x 1’) in my name in Scotland. While the Proclamation uses the title “Lord”, I much prefer the Scottish title, “Laird”. The difference between the two is a lord has a blood link to the toffee-nosed aristocracy whereas a laird is a Scot who owns some land. I was deeply moved by Scott’s gift. To own a small bit of land in my ancestral Scotland gave me a connection I never imagined. My Scottish grandfather arrived in Canada at the port of Montreal in 1910. He was 18 years old, the eldest of five. His father, my great grandfather James, was the village blacksmith in Fyvie. He was also the village herbalist. His framed collection of moths and butterflies still hangs in the halls of the University
Test Results Friday, September 9, 2022 1:22 PM I've been slow to post my update from Wednesday at the hospital. The death of Elizabeth took me on many different tangents. As you'll recall from a previous episode, I had to return to the QEH for the second part of the nuclear stress test. This involved having an IV "installed" in my right arm and then having more radioactive material slipped into a vein with some chemical cocktail that caused all my arteries and veins to dilate simulating me exercising. Since I couldn't walk on a treadmill, this was the approach the medical team took. I was hooked up to an octopus of wires that were checking heart, pulse, breathing, etc. There were four on the team: the doctor, the nurse, the tech, and a medical student from Mun. The doctor explained the possible effects from the IV could be an instant headache, nausea and/or vomiting, or feeling flushed. The procedure took about 15 minutes. Along with a variety of di
Drugs Wednesday, September 7, 2022 9:55 PM I’m certain that in the past three months I have taken more prescription drugs than in the entire 71 years I've been alive.
Discharged Tuesday, September 6, 2022 9:28 PM Today, I had to return to the hospital for several reasons. The most important was to be officially discharged. I also had to undergo some tests, which are required as part of the process when applying for a lung transplant. Mary and I arrived almost in time for the Nuclear Medicine Myocardial Perfusion Stress Test, but apparently someone had cancelled it. So we headed back to Unit 2 where I am still a patient. This particular test involved some considerable sacrifice: fasting 4 hours before and no caffeine for 48 hours. One of the nurses on Unit 2 asked if I wanted some breakfast and given how hungry I was, my answer was, definitely. The tray arrived and I was about to dive in when another nurse came around the corner like Kramer entering a room and yelled, “Don’t eat!” I stopped the spoon midway to my mouth. The test had been res-scheduled. Not another minute later, yet another nurse came in and told me it was ok to
Out on a Weekend Pass Saturday, September 3, 2022 7:44 PM The doctor promised and delivered on a weekend pass out of the hospital. This is me on that Pass absorbing Vitamin D, naturally, in the front yard with the grandpuppy, Rowdy. The discussions with doctor and nurses, the preparation, the packing up and moving out of the hospital and finally arriving home this afternoon took a lot out of me. I’m weaker and more prone to becoming breathless with activity. It’s taking me a little longer to recover my 90%+ blood oxygen level. If I thought I was moving slowly before, this version of me is akin to trying to run underwater. I even think my voice has that slow-mo quality you hear in movies. The number one reason I’m home is to catch up and rest and sleep. As everyone knows, a hospital is no place for those two important elements for recovery. The constant barrage of noise from voices, coughs, crying, yells, monitors, machines, beds moving, dishes clattering means