Connoisseurs of my Facebook status updates cannot have failed to notice that in September last year I took up ice skating, although they may be a tad more mystified as to my motives–I have struggled to identify those myself, which is one reason for this blog entry. (more…)
January 22, 2010
August 23, 2008
Time to Get Serious–Calling Disillusioned Yasmin Users
I’m here at Bread Loaf for a few more hours, and I just pitched my non-fiction memoir, Letters from the Body, to an Editor, who was very interested. Last night at dinner I also pitched it to a wonderful Agent, who invited me to send her the m/s to date (currently standing at about 30,000 words.)
So, I need some additional material. If you are a woman of child-bearing age who has had a bad experience with Yasmin (or indeed, any other hormonal contraceptive) I invite you to tell me your story. I am particularly interested in incidences of blood clot and of course, stroke, plus any withdrawal symptoms experienced from the drug. Please email me at evnsanna_at_comcast.net including your full name, age, location, a brief gynecological history, and the main facts of your experience.
Check back here for updates as the book progresses. More about Bread Loaf anon.
August 5, 2008
Tuning the Heart
So, today I went to Jefferson for my one year post op check up.
Typically, the stress involved in getting me there was about enough to give me a heart attack. I had to drop Lorna at Hainesport Recreation as early as possible (8.53 a.m.) then drop Becky at Gymnastics ridiculously early, armed with iPod and DS (9.10 for an 11 a.m. practice,) then drive into Philly, attempting to beat my GPS predicted journey time by about 5 minutes to make my 10 a.m. appointment.
Of course, roadworks on I-95 meant I arrived around 15 minutes late. Nevertheless, I sat in the waiting room for almost twenty minutes (rating 14×14 sonnets–better pickings in the final two batches for this issue) before I was called back for my bubble ultrasound.
The echo tech was a German guy called Heinz, with whom I immediately struck up a “Europeans vs Yanks” type rapport. A bubble ultrasound is an almost embarrassingly intimate affair, requiring the subject (me) to be naked from the waist up while the tech presses the ultrasound scope to various points around the ribcage (read: above and below the breasts.) Like most of the staff in the Cardiac Institute, Heinz was not used to having to do this with a woman who potentially still made his sonar blip, but he dealt with the situation with admirable aplomb. As for my part, it helped that he was, like most of the Jefferson Staff, pretty damn cute. I also learned a new word: I am, apparently, “echogenic.”
The good news is that the hole is completely closed. No bubbles are crossing the former PFO site whatsoever. Dr. Savage was very pleased, and wants me to try weaning myself off the beta-blockers, and phasing down to a Baby Aspirin (81 mg vs 325 mg–hopefully this will reduce the ridiculous bruising I have suffered over the last 18 months!)
Also in good news while I’m at it, Rattle took “Crash,” the poem about the motorbike which hit the back of the van in March. Yesterday, the careless driving trial against the motorcyclist, at which I am a witness for the prosecution, was postponed for the umpty-fifth time.
And I wrote a sonnet today! First poem since the day after my fortieth birthday, when I wrote “Midriff Crisis”, a triolet about the potential navel piercing a good girlfriend gave me as a gift. I got the piercing a week ago, and the poem was accepted for publication today.
Sometimes, life has a pleasing symmetry…
September 21, 2007
Heart, One Small Hole (Repaired, should not affect function…)
At 6.30 on Thursday morning I turned up at Jefferson Hospital to sign myself over to their Cardiology Department for the closure of my PFO.
Note: this early start time could have been a major problem. They were supposed to call me the day before with my reporting time. When I hadn’t received a call by 9 p.m. I called them. Turns out they had left a message on the wrong answerphone. I then had to arrange something for the kids at extremely short notice. My friend M. stepped into the breach, and as I know she is hardly a morning person, I appreciate this more than she knows.
In a surprisingly short time I was sitting on a bed in one of those dreadful hospital gowns with a print that looks like rorschach ink blots and the lovely ties that leave it flapping open at the back. I signed consent forms, chewed a 325mg Aspirin (turned out I should have already taken it that morning after all), had a drip put in, and pretty soon after that I was being wheeled down to theater. Oh I also learned some good nursing jargon. I believe I have mentioned the problems medical personnel have finding a good vein of mine from which to draw blood. Well, apparently I am a bad stick!
This, my second OR this year, looked much like the first one. Another sense of deja vu arose when a) I realized I was going to have to repeat the TEE as part of the procedure, and b) that the same cute young doctor was officiating over that part. He had a different assistant however, whose bedside manner left something to be desired: “There is a two in fifteen thousand chance of DEATH from this procedure…” (Capitals reflect the emphasis of delivery!)
But that’s pretty much all she wrote as far as the procedure was concerned. I sucked on the dead sea creature lollipop and by that time they were already pumping very strong medication into my IV.
I woke up in the recovery room, my long-suffering husband by my side. The next unpleasant part was when they had to remove the tube they had inserted into my groin down which the closure device had been wiggled. A heavyset male nurse called Tim told me that he was the ‘pressure’ nurse. When the tube was removed it was his job to apply pressure to the vein in order to staunch the bleeding. Bloody hell that hurt! Poor Tim, if that was really his job–doesn’t sound much fun doing that all day!
I then had to keep that leg as still as possible for six hours. Ick. I’m going to gloss over the next few hours but it involved cramps and bedpans. Meanwhile the staunched vein was bruising up nicely, and my throat felt like I’d swallowed the dead sea creature, and that it had been a rather scaly one at that. (Of course I’d really only swallowed the ultrasound probe.)
The interesting thing is that my heart didn’t hurt at all. I had thought I would be able to tell that there was now a foreign body sealing the flaw in the living tissue, but no.
They moved me to the ward and here I struck up an acquaintance with my roommate, C, who had also had a PFO closure on Thursday after a series of strokes and TIAs. C is 10 years older than I am and was not on the BCP at the time of her incidents, but in a way that was a good thing to know. Perhaps, if I hadn’t been taking the BCP I would have been her in 10 years time when an age-related clot made its first appearance. She had also suffered some minor but bothersome long term effects from her attacks. (Her PFO was 7mm to my 5.)
K disappeared and returned later with the kids. In his absence I was treated to a glorious ‘heart-healthy’ hospital dinner: roast beef and pearl onions in watery gravy with chipped potatoes and tinned carrots. I was starving though so I ate every mouthful. Fortunately K came back with chocolate.
Then I was left to a Law & Order fest on TNT. Oh it was a joy at around 9.30 pm to move my leg at last, even if it was only to shuffle to the bathroom with my drip!
I slept as well as you can in a hospital, with the nurses waking you every three hours to check your vital signs. When they did this the third time at 7 am, I gave up on sleep and read my book until it was time to go and have my chest x-rayed.
Everything checked out, so by lunchtime I was ready to leave, although I am not allowed to drive until Monday, lift anything more than 10lb until next Thursday, or take any exercise for 2 weeks. I’m still going to Liam’s memorial, though. I can walk okay for short periods and not fast, but I think I’m going to take the wheelchair to be safe.
So, thanks again to M for stepping in there, Twinings and the QNDs for the gift basket and flowers respectively, and to all my friends who have left me messages of support and encouragement. Hopefully this episode of House is now over. I’ll let you know when I’m done writing the book.
September 19, 2007
Health Update
Tomorrow I am going into Jefferson for my PFO closure. I haven’t blogged about this because I don’t really know what to say. I’m confident it’s the right decision to minimize my risk of future stroke-type incidents. (The risk of serious side-effects is <2%.)
I got some good news today to help keep my outlook positive. Nancy Scott of US1 Worksheets called me to let me know that they are accepting “The Proof Reader.” She’s also going to see about getting me a featured reading for the group.
In a peculiar knock on effect this means I can let Gina Larkin of the Edison Literary Review have “Archetype,” which she heard me read last Wednesday and requested.
That means I have now had 16 of my thesis poems accepted for print publication. Rattle & the Harvard Review are perhaps the most prestigious credits; other print credits include Raintown Review, Mad Poets Review & Iambs & Trochees, while e-zines include Literary Mama, Mezzo Cammin, Umbrella and Lucid Rhythms.
They are keeping me in overnight tomorrow, but I will try to check in here on Friday afternoon and let my readers know how everything went.
June 13, 2007
Relative Values
As I am off to Bennington for my residency tomorrow this could be my last entry for a while so I want to touch on a few things.
Firstly a note about yesterday evening, when I gave a combined formal poetry lecture and reading to the good folks of the Fanwood Arts Society up in Northern NJ. This event was organized by the excellent Adele Kenny and I was pleased by the attendance on a rather thundery night. The honorarium was $50 and I sold 4 chapbooks, which you might think made it a profitable evening financially as well as spiritually.
Not so. I had to hire an adult babysitter for the girls. She arrived at 5.45 and stayed until 10.45 so I paid her $60, and of course there’s gas, and those chapbooks cost me $2.50 each.
Of course it’s not about the money. We all do it for love, and I’m not short a bob or two, but isn’t it ironic that I am less valuable as a poet than as a babysitter (a job, let’s not forget, that I personally do daily for neither recognition nor money.)
On a similar theme, a word about the ridiculous behavior of Health Insurers. As I am going away for ten days tomorrow, I went yesterday to request a refill on my Levothyroxine prescription because I only have about a week’s supply left. I never wait for the pills if I can avoid it, because it takes forever, so I told them I’d pick it up today.
When I got back to the house there was a message on my answerphone from the pharmacy telling me they were unable to process my refill because the Insurance Company wouldn’t pay for it until June 13th.
Hang on a sec, I thought. June 13th was the next day, and anyway, I had said I wouldn’t be picking up the pills until June 13th. So their miserliness cost CVS the phone call and me the time/gas of an extra trip to the pharmacy to put the refill request in again this morning, with the net result that I got the pills on exactly the same day. Someone needed to apply some common sense on that one I think.
Finally, a word about my childcare arrangements for this residency. Probably the most expensive childcare arrangement I’ve yet made, actually. Becky is going to the International Gymnastics Camp in Pennsylvania for two weeks starting Sunday at a cost of $1400. Bless her! She doesn’t seem at all fazed at the prospect of two weeks away from the family, new coaches, bunk life or even doing her own laundry. Lorna has the much less frightening (and cheaper!) choice of going to her best friend Carley’s for the days Keba will be unable to take off.
So, to all my Bennington friends, I can’t wait to see you. Thank goodness the wine is cheap…
June 5, 2007
A Few Things I Did Today
- Wrote a poem.
- Had an EKG.
- Got lost trying to get from Jefferson Hospital to Manayunk.
- Recorded some Voiceover ads for those good folks at Skin Radio.
- Got lost leaving Manayunk
- Officiated at the pagan burial rites of Sandy the hamster. Sniff.
May 29, 2007
Things to Do While Wearing a Holter Monitor
This is my second 24 hour Holter Monitor experience. The first occurred way back in January 2006, around the time my thyroid issues were diagnosed, back when I still thought I would live forever.
Anyway if I ever get around to writing that book I’m sure my Blog will provide useful notes, so I thought on this occasion I’d write about this test in more detail.
I have seven electrodes taped to my torso. Three form a triangle on my upper chest above my breasts. One is on my left breast and two on the rib cage beneath and around it. The final one is on my right side. Wires from these plug into a joiner, which hangs at my upper thigh. The single thick cable from the joiner leads into a device a little larger than a standard iPod. This sits in a black canvas pouch held by a strap which passes diagonally across my body, much like I would carry a shoulder bag in a well known mugging zone.
Obviously this device records my heartbeat on a removable chip. If I experience any irregularities I am supposed to press a button on the unit which will help them zero in on the part of the recording to examine. Nothing so far.
I can’t get the device wet, and the loose tee shirt (no bra) I am wearing does not fully cover the mess of wires or the black pouch. So, I won’t be making many trips out today. (Of course, I have to do the gymnastics run later.)
So what can you do while wearing a Holter Monitor? Laundry, drink tea, whine and write. That pretty much sums it up.
May 15, 2007
Channel 6 Action News Update
Watch the clip. I do look a bit earnest and chubby but at least the message is out there.
May 12, 2007
Why You Should Watch Channel 6 Action News on Monday at 11
Because I’ll be on it, in a nutshell.
Basically, a while ago I was chatting with my friend P and she was telling me a long saga of woes about her problems with Sears. Things had gotten so bad that eventually she lodged a complaint with Channel 6 Action News Consumer Hotline.
Hmm. I thought. Perhaps they would be interested in hearing about my health problems and suspicions that Yasmin is the root cause. So I did the same.
Now, I don’t believe they ever got back to P about Sears, but about a month ago a very nice reporter called me and we had a long chat. She said she needed to follow up independently and would get back to me.
A week later she called again. Apparently she had found another young woman (32) in the Philadelphia area who had died of a stroke after being on Yasmin, and she wanted to run with the story.
So the following week she turned up at my house (Yes, in the Action News van) with a cameraman and interviewed me. It was a fascinating experience. They shot most of the footage of me sitting at my kitchen table, but then they wanted to get some additional footage for voiceover: me taking my daily aspirin, me making a cup of tea, me reading to the kids, the kids playing with the dog, and the family group photo we had taken before Christmas. (yes, even Keba isn’t safe!)
They asked me not to blog it until they had started running the trailers for it, which apparently began last night. So I didn’t, but now I am.
I may sound terrible (I hate my voice in recordings normally) and look like an earnest frumpy housewife, but I don’t care. Women need to be warned that they should think more about the hormones they elect to put in their bodies, and no one else seemed prepared to tell them.
So I did.
