Week 32, no less: Loose ends

I'm now in my 32nd week, no less, since The-Day. On another level, oh, to be 32, again.

Perhaps, I should have said, nearly 8 months after The-Day. And only 7 months to Christmas: Surely, there must be an equinox somewhere in this equation.

Whatever the alignments, lots happened this week while in rehab.

First, I got my EXIT announcement, which is good news on several fronts. My Stress Test evaluation is now confirmed for June 12, a little earlier than expected. On the upside, no blood extraction, is sought. There have been a couple of missed opportunities and small advancements on this side while in rehab, which I will elaborate upon next month, after my ticket has been punched.

Taa-Daa! I'm now officially 'The Oldie' after Gabriel's graduation a week ago. It was inevitable. So far, I've only slacked off two days while in rehab. Unfortunately, one of those AWOL afternoons was last Wednesday to see Rod Stewart in concert, and I missed his last day in rehab. Dang. Good luck, Gabe. Pick your pace and your books. We'll chat over the summer period, my friend. James also had his stress test and good heart keeping badge punched the other day, as well.

Archie, Robert, Graham, Frank, Anthony, Marvin, Gabe, James. Too many to remember these days, for all of the right reasons. Whatever the final tally, one thing is for sure: We may all be survivors of one sort or another, but there's now no one left from the original 'Mon-Wed 3-4pm' core snow bank crowd.

It's not been the same in rehab, now that the original gang has left. Our new group are getting into their own groove and are friendly enough, but... it will soon be time to move on.

I also had the good fortune yesterday of being asked to a retire- ment luncheon with two dear ladies, and eavesdropped upon what ladies with credit lines discuss, in these time-hallowed events. One being Patty (not the retiree, yet) and a long time mutual friend. By coincidence, both happen to be current caregivers. Our good friend to a husband with cancer, now thankfully in remission.

Cancer is a bad word these days, there's no doubt about that. My initial thought when referring to cancer, is that this is predomin- antly a lady's event. And cardiac related matters are of a masculine domain. Not so, as I've already lost three male friends in this millennium to that dirty bugger of a disease. Four more buds are currently in various degrees of remission or recup- eration. That's an unlucky seven, folks. All guys!

It might also be timely to mention what many health professionals miss, and what most female patients are not fully aware, is that heart disease is the number one killer of women. In fact, six times more women die each year of heart disease than breast cancer. But then, who's gender counting? It doesn’t end there. You would think there has never been a more pressing time to raise aware- ness of heart disease among women, to change their lifestyle habits and make it easier for them to choose healthier options. Yet, you’d be wrong.

Unless you or a close loved one has recently become a winged statistic, then who’s listening, anyway? Not enough, apparently, often a dollar and a day late. Women who survive the initial heart attack fare worse than men, with a statistically higher mortality rate and a risk of experiencing a second attack within their first year of recovery.

There is never a better time than now, to start educating and motivating a generation or two who equate cruising the burger joints to exercise, to reduce their risk of heart failure.

But I digress. School's out. There are times, kid, when you have got to stop being a little too preachy.

It was nice to hear that my luncheon date's husband is in a stable place. Finally. She reports she has "absolutely no retirement plans beyond a golf game on June 1st." Warm thoughts to you both, on several levels. I see a well deserved 'hooky phase' over the summer months, and no doubt, good plans formulating before the leaves fall.

Arrgh! There's still no go-forward strategies as envisioned earlier to report on the travel side, as my medical folk are dragging their buts big time, with any paperwork. Hopefully, this will be resolved within the month. It's hard to imagine that the LEISURELAN site and Winter '07 hosted tours were developed some 13 months ago. We're about a year late on the entire project. If there's no medical / insurance clearance by early July, then it will all have to be scrapped.

I thought it about time to also brush the dust off my golf clubs. As most of you know, I always had contemplated 18 holes of golf as part of my rehab strategy. Well, I'll hold that thought until mid-Summer. The putting came back fast, the seven and nine iron chip shot, too. But first, we have to get the ball to the edge of the green, right? I simply can't comfortably follow through with my swing using the driver, as yet. It can wait.

On the upside, says he with time on his hands, I'm now in early stages of crafting a book outline about the last year lost and reclaimed. More details to follow. I'm knee deep, literally, in the research phase to drop 50 pages or so, into a book outline. At that time, I'll put it down for several days, and then revisit the project to determine the 'tripe level.' At that juncture, we'll circle the wagons for serious go-forwards to a possible Fall / Winter publication. Or quickly deep-six it entirely, for vanity purposes alone.

We'll see where it all goes. I'm about half way through an Introduction and Chapter One.

Volunteerism

It is the little things in life that say so much
Anonymous

I BELIEVE there are many things in life we can quietly undertake without any fanfare or a prevalent societal quid-pro-quo WIIFM -- "What's In It For Me" experience -- that can deliver positive experiences in spades.

Volunteering for example, comes to mind.

"I'll be there" for you, implies on a certain level that your best friend would jump in front of your foe and take a bullet for you. Being there unselfishly for others is the next best thing -- frankly, a gift anyone can give. The potential rewards of being there for others, could be equated to being on the giving end of Christmas Day, every day. It could be likened to the greatest gift anyone can give.

VOLUNTEERING COULD BE CONSIDERED the very core of civility. Thus, the output of small efforts of time and energy can often return superior emotional and spiritual gains to all stakeholders, particularly while 'walking a mile in the shoes' of those persons less healthy or fortunate.

What a potential rush!

Earlier this month, I was asked by my hospital to review, and possibly place input into, the new volunteer cardiac patient program they are about to launch. This is exciting -- both for their dedicated volunteer group, and of course, for the never ending count of recovering cardiac patients.

Midway through the morning session, I unexpectedly blurted out a small confession to their volunteer team leader and assembled group, about an earlier unannounced trip I had taken to their H cardiac recovery floor...

I had purposely stopped in the hallway outside of my room 311. There was no playbook to refer to on that nippy February day, for what might be considered in some circles, as a Typical-Tony ballsy decision -- almost on a level of pausing before walking unannounced through that huge Stargate ring, into the unknown. Or checking on the possible medical or legal ramifications, beforehand. This brought about a brief period of hesitancy to enter a room full of strangers. On another level, there was no turning back, either. I calmly walked in, introduced myself first to an elderly gentleman, and then to his two concerned sons, both about my age. It was evident there was a lot of tenseness in play within these four walls. The gent in 'my bed' was about to have I believe a valve operation the following day. This timing seemed a little strange, as I thought you ended up on the third floor, after your operation, not before. But, hey, I was the unannounced visitor with no program on that mid-winter morn. Not them.

I explained how I had been in this very room, several months earlier recovering from triple by-pass cardiac surgery. Room 311 was the lucky room on the ward. And here I was in the pink, so to speak; to retell the tale, healing stitches and all as living proof. No more than a lot of 'been-there-done-that' unrehearsed banter from the heart, actually.

A FUNNY THING HAPPENED after a few minutes. Unbeknownst to me at the time, my presence was perfect, as the off-springs had seemed to have exhausted any further motivational chats they could muster with dad. Somehow, as a past and current patient, he and I connected. You could noticeably see his stress levels recede. His kids noticed it as well, and both personally thanked me afterwards at the entrance doorway when leaving.

I felt good after that quick hello, and have no doubt, the gentle- man survived with precious little effort on my part. From my perspective, it was sort of squaring off that life circle, giving back to the community, unannounced and unrehearsed. I wasn't even going to tell the story to anyone. And don't know why I did earlier this month. However, walking to the H parking lot afterwards on that mid-winter morn, I felt an inward warmth that was hard to explain after helping a total stranger.

It wasn't at a heightened level of perhaps Allister Simm joyously playing the irreplaceable part of Scrooge while dancing on his head early Christmas morning, but a good feeling, nonetheless.

I don't mean to suggest for you to stand on your pointed little head and spin like a top to be a starbright. But you should try quietly helping someone, sometime. The WIIFM payback is awful. The rewards are priceless.

I guess in some small way, this is what they call the essence of volunteering.

I received this unexpected e-mail later in the day from their Director of Volunteer Services, which I felt was very touching. With thanks, J.

Tony,
Thank you so much. As we proceed, I will be in touch for your insights...I will always remember one of your final comments at the meeting about the father and the two sons. You summed up the value of the volunteer involvement with one story and I thank you for that.... J

Good luck, you merry band of volunteers...