"Healthy"

"You're healthy," my not-a-doctor doctor told me the other day.  (He's a P.A., or physician's assistant, and he looks like Anderson Cooper.)  He was referring to my overall condition: I'm not undernourished, anemic, and weak, as I was when I got here, thanks to three unstoppable nosebleeds (which came out of nowhere) within two weeks.  The P.A. was ignoring the nastier problems that keep me here for the long term, but it was still good to hear him say I'm healthy.

The chief nasty is emphysema, which ties me to my oxygen tank and prevents any form of exertion. I  walk slowly, avoid heavy lifting, etc., etc.  So routine housekeeping is beyond me, and that's why I'm staying here at Casa Real.  (The term "nursing home" is now politically incorrect: Casa Real is a "healthcare facility," sans hyphen.)

My heart plays a nasty trick on me now and then -- palpitation -- which creates a good deal of drama.  An ambulance arrives; five handsome firemen or EMTs arrive and inject me with adenosine; my heart stops dead in its tracks for about 30 seconds while my chest feels as if an elephant herd is stampeding across it; and before I can fathom how anything could be so horrific, the elephants fly away and my heart resets to normal.  Then off we go to the hospital (just across the road) for about five hours, for EKG, chest X ray, and blood work.  Finally I return home.

I write all this because a number of people have asked about my medical condition.  For my part, I'm more content than I've been in years.

Pictures

We've finally got Internet access in every room.  It's very slow (1.5 MB/sec) but the plan is to raise it to about 10 MB.

Here's me outdoors in the the courtyard in better weather, along with my new BFF, the oxygen canister.

 The courtyard at Casa Real is quite pretty.

 Vicki is my partner in crime.

 

My roommate, Augustine (rhymes with now-goose-TEEN), is a Native American from San Juan Pueblo.  His brother was vising today and they were speaking Tewa!

I've decided to remain here, since there's no way I can live independently.