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As the rain descends bringing its reviving essence to the waiting garden and fields the sound on the tin roof creates an inviting time for reflection. The anticipation of the cardiac procedure a few days before led this palpating patient through multiples of thoughts about the nature of such an event. I barely know the doctor. I had only met him once, and yet I was about to willingly submit my life into his hands (along with an Anesthesiologist). Why would I do such a thing? I pondered. There was a rational answer that I quickly concluded: This was a potential means to re-setting my heart into normal sinus rhythm, thus eliminating the potential of stroke or heart attack from this source and returning to a life without anticoagulants and their potentially harsh side effects. But, “why this doctor at this medical institution?” I queried. Then I began to fantasize about asking the doctor if he would undertake this procedure on me if he weren’t being paid to do so. I could envision the man laughing in my face, but the question was a serious one to me. I wanted to be more than patient number X. I wanted to be the person who has a medical need to be attended and would be attended because the person attending would welcome the same from me should he have the need and I the experience. Suddenly the whole notion of “love your neighbor as yourself” began to take on a different meaning than I had seen before. The abstraction of that Biblical command suddenly had a very personal meaning that I had forgotten. What if our culture supported Doctors, Dentists, Teachers, Lawyers and even Politicians, who trained to become such simply because the world was full of people who needed their expertise and skill? What if Dentists performed extractions or implants simply because there was a human being who needed that help and the dentist would be secure in knowing that if he or she needed it, someone else would be there to provide it? I don’t possess the formula for resolution to those questions or circumstances and I could think of hundreds more, given the time. I do hold the potential for a step in the direction of a solution. That potential begins with me. Others will answer for themselves (or not) but I must contemplate where I am being called to act in love toward others as I also would need them to act on my behalf. Whether Parkinson’s disease, heart arrhythmia, or a person just needing to feel heard and understood, there are others who yearn to know they would be worth the giving of time, expertise, or understanding. It appears that gratitude is the harvest that the seed of pondering has rendered during a time of doubt and fear.
Wake up and preparation are but a faint memory of that day when “cardioversion” was scheduled. We were at the hospital outpatient center by 7:30 a.m., and taken swiftly into the procedure room after signing all the required forms. Among my companions were uncertainty, an attempt at emotional distance, a bit of fear and anxiety, but each was packed as neatly as I could muster within my pocket of faith and trust. The prep nurse was a delightful young lady with two small children who had moved to the area to be near her father and stepmother. Her husband was so grieving their previous home in Panama City that they were in the process of finalizing their move back to Florida. She facilitated my comfort as best she could while securing an EKG and the necessary hookup to the heart monitor showing pulse and blood pressure. Inserting the needle for the IV was a bit more challenging as the first site started to swell immediately. An apt apology and a resignation that this was a part of the day’s journey created the space for a successful second attempt. While the nurse was securing the final diagnosis of atrial flutter, the CRNA arrived and introduced himself before securing answers to questions already rendered upon check in. I posed the question as to his residential background and learned that he had grown up in the area, had graduated from a well known college in the State and was married to a pharmacist at the hospital who was also from the local area. They have one son in his freshman year in college not far away, and they have a farm on which they raise goats with intentions of acquiring beef cattle. He shared with me that they were looking to buy some more land, perhaps in the county in which we live in North Carolina. I gave him a couple of locations that I know have been for sale just before the Cardiologist arrived. The Cardiologist and I commiserated on the excellent talent of the young folks in the recent performance of Godspell, the musical we both attended the previous weekend. As he placed the “electrode” pads on my chest and back he reflected how good the comedy performances were at the same theater. The anesthesiologist suddenly arrived and introduced himself as the nurse anesthetist informed me that the “propophol” was being administered. I jokingly said “I guess it’s time to say good night.” At first I only experienced an odd taste, and then the heavy weight of sleep descended upon me. In what seemed like only seconds, I was slowly waking to an empty room except for the young nurse who was telling me that the procedure had not accomplished its intended end. The Cardiologist had four times stopped my heart to then “shock” it back to what was hoped to be a normal rhythm. All four times my heart returned to its previous fluttering state. My blood pressure was exceptionally low and as soon as it began its ascent to a reasonable state of normal, I would be allowed to leave. My left shoulder felt as if it had been hit by a semi. Where the pad was located on my chest, about the size of one’s hand, the skin was tender and raw. I felt completely exhausted as I put on my clothes and was led to the waiting car so lovingly driven by Ray. The Pensacola bound nurse handed me the “after procedure” instructions along with an appointment date for the follow-up visit to the Cardiologist. Exhausted and thankful for being alive we sped away from the hospital to arrive at home for an afternoon of recuperation. Tucking the question of “what next” in the bag of gratitude, this Parkinson’s palpating patient laid down for a long afternoon nap!
Broccoli slips planted two weeks ago are thriving and asparagus should be sprouting up any day. The time is arriving soon when the rest of the garden can be planted without concern for frost or freezing. Spring has emerged full force from the throes of winter bringing with it warm days and cool nights and random showers to moisten the fields. Birds are at times frantically preoccupied with the building of nests virtually anywhere safe from the elements. Life’s cycle in nature is manifesting itself yet again as it demonstrates the wonder of creation. In two days I too will take a step toward renewal as I submit to the cardiologist’s skill at “cardioversion.” Through either medication effects or my unique cardiac perception of time and space, my atrium has engaged consistently in flutter and fibrillation. The winter of rapid pulse rate is soon drawing to a close and the spring of normal sinus rhythm is around the corner. As I anticipate the procedure that will literally stop my heart and “shock” it back to a normal rate I must do so with a metaphorical heart placed in the hands of gratitude for the opportunity to have this done. I have studied the risks of such a procedure as well as the consequences of doing nothing and I have chosen to engage the former. Trust and faith are both at work as I look ahead to an outcome that is both renewing and rewarding. Grace will sustain the outcome however it may unfold!
Clouds hover as they disrupt the rays of the sun. Peering through the window it seems apparent that the temperature is cold and uninviting. A walk outside dismisses the thought of cold as the warmth of the air embraces one’s face. Adjusting to the weather change is inviting, but sometimes challenging. Adjusting to change with Parkinson’s is challenging as well. Each person’s experience is uniquely different, much like each person’s experience with today’s weather is patently their own. Years ago I studied the various manifestations of this neurological disorder known as Parkinson’s disease. It was then part of my job educating pharmacists on the nuances of diminution of pyramidal cells in the brain and the subsequent loss of dopamine, an essential neural transmitter. Then it was clinical and distant, much like the view of the weather from inside the house. Now it is up close and personal and nothing like what my “clinical” version rendered. Thankfully, none of the symptoms are as bad as I had once imagined. Some say “just wait, they will get there.” I think they may or may not be right, but as the symptoms “progress” they will again be experienced within my unique perception. The journey is one of passage through the various stages described as grief. Sometimes I experience anger at the discomfort, pain, stiffness and patent slowness in movement. Other times I press forward in denial that anything could keep ME from accomplishing my heart’s intent. Then again I slump in my chair of despair and shed tears at the loss of agility. The most blissful of times are those embraced by acceptance that challenges may come and go, but there are responses to those challenges that may brighten the day when wrapped as the gift of gratitude for yet another opportunity. No matter the metaphorical condition of weather outside, the joy of life’s experience is uplifted by the level of gratitude and thankfulness nurtured on the inside!
A fire like glow emerged over the eastern landscape as dawn made her way into the morning. Night had passed along with random dreams and the cocoon-like warmth between the covers. With a new day came gratitude as memories of the week past flooded this grandpa’s mind. The crystal blue waters of the Caribbean embracing our granddaughter as she held hand to fin with a dolphin in Cozumel; the smile on her face as she dove once again into the cruise ship’s pool with the friends she had made the first evening aboard that ship each gave me pause to be thankful for vicariously sharing her joy. Lifelong memories were created in her experiences and some life sustaining memories enrich “Poppi’s” recollection today. Memories become all the richer as we celebrate today the birth of our son thirty years ago. The contentment on his little face as he peered from the cozy blanket in which he was wrapped upon his arrival in New York still fills us with grateful joy to be a part of his wonderful and thriving life. Every one of our children and grandchildren are blessings with which we lift grateful hearts for their presence in our lives. A journey filled with gratitude lights the path toward the future as we thankfully take each step toward tomorrow.
Sun brightens the day as the wind brings much welcomed warmth to the farmland. The goats and chickens revel in the sprigs of fresh grass emerging from the still chilled but moist earth. Grubs, earthworms and tiny blossoms serve as the foundation for orange rich yokes in the freshly laid eggs. Trees and shrubs are sending forth their springtime buds that will soon blossom into full flowers bearing witness to spring’s arrival. We wholeheartedly embrace the new found warmth knowing that yet more days of deep chill are yet to manifest themselves. Even so, we greet this warm reprieve with a mind filled with gratitude. Thankful for relief from the icy cold of winter, we enjoy that which is today’s gift. We are reminded in the throes of untoward symptoms of Parkinson’s disease that relief of rigidity and resting tremor comes and goes like the change in seasons. A grateful heart greets the relief of symptoms as surely as the budding daffodils greet the warmth of spring.
A steady drizzle descends upon the nearly saturated fields. Birds previously gorging on emerging earthworms find sustenance elsewhere. The humidity when combined with temperatures in the low forties embraces one with a chill to the bone. An assertion that we’ve had enough cold weather does nothing to bring about a change. The rain’s steady beat continues as the clouds surrender their heavy load upon the countryside. Knowing that “this too shall pass” gives reason for thankfulness and hope, but does nothing to satiate the desire for warmer climes and bright sunshine to fill the daylight hours. When unwanted and unwelcomed symptoms of PD emerge, even in the face of full medication, we assert that we’ve had enough of the pain and stiffness that impedes our otherwise purposeful activities. Assertions alone do not drive away the passing through of the clouds of symptoms that have to “work their course” toward at least partial restoration. Experience has shown that “this too shall pass” with knowledge that the presence of symptoms must be endured. A heaping helping of thankfulness from the table of gratitude helps to stoke the fires of hope that warm the heart.
The glistening sun shining bright on the browned landscape conveyed the impression that warmth had finally come to the air around us. A stark cold snapped us firmly as we ventured from the warmth of the farmhouse into the bright but deceptive sunshine. Today the bright light of the sun is hidden behind the invading clouds that hover above, giving the impression of cold and foreboding weather outside. An embrace of warmer air when stepping from the door corrects the temperature misperception. It seems that in this time of season change the temperature may not always be as it appears from behind the insulated panes of the window looking out. Symptoms of Parkinson’s seem to act at times like that of the deceptive weather being viewed from a place of insulated experience. All things seem normal and calm, but when challenged with movement, resistance may show its ugly head. From my vantage point, the destination seems clear and straight ahead. The reality of movement disorders and the ever challenging dopamine depletion gives enlightenment in a different experience and the destination is not so easily achieved. Just as stoking the wood into the old stove helps keep the indoors warm, timely and routine ingestion of dopamine replacement helps to modulate agility and involuntary movement. Frustration invades the undertaking of tasks that are movement challenged and impeded. For times when freedom of movement seems restored in part if not in whole, brings forth a sense of gratitude. What had for so many years been taken for granted is now an opportunity to experience thankfulness for realizing it was and is a gift from the Creator!
White patches dot the landscape as remnants of the last snow storm remind us that winter is not yet over. Fog permeates the field of vision as cold snow and earth collide with warmer moist air moving through our region. Predictions of spring like temperatures squeezing out rain are followed with those of sub-freezing climes for the following week. As nature behaves as is her way we attempt to keep the small environment in which we live steady in our preferred way. We cannot bring on summer in the outside environment, but with the help of petroleum and dried wood we can create a comfortable space in which the ravages of winter are not present. As PD symptoms begin to ratchet their winter like presence, intensifying pain, stiffness, and tremor, we know that we cannot as yet eliminate the cause. We have made friends with this physiological season in which we live, but we also strive to create an environment in which those “seasonal” challenges do not become the rule. Gratefully, medication and exercise provide the fuel that helps to moderate the environment making the “living” space more inviting. Maintaining a mind embraced with thankfulness enables it to look beyond the symptoms of constraint into the field of hope that is a new season. May the season in which you reside be one that brings hope embraced in the arms of gratitude.
She sprang from the door to pounce on the frozen white covering of the back yard. What had yesterday been a powdery white snow had become overnight a sheet of ice, resistant to the paws of a playful Golden Retriever. Soon she got her grip to frolic over the frigid ground cover that would lead her to her desired spot in the yard. Silence reigned in these early hours of the frozen morn uninviting even to the crows usually foraging for sustenance. Adaptation to change has been necessary for survival. When physiological change takes place one adapts to that change. Whether a positive or negative adaptation is engaged is ultimately the decision of the one challenged. Seldom does anger, frustration, resistance, or withdrawal lead to a healthy adaptation. Each may have its motivating genesis, but seldom will either lead to an outcome of a thriving nature. Gratitude for the opportunity to engage actions that will build adaptive strength and vigor leads to greater understanding of what those adaptive strengths are. Acceptance that change has occurred bridled with thankfulness for options that embrace new ways of adjusting to that change lay the foundation upon which a thriving life may be upheld.