I had planned a very different post for today. Instead, I am finally up and about after a long night.
Last night was a fairly normal night at work. One of our labs needed an oxygen concentrator, so I put one of ours in my car and made the 30 minute drive there. I dropped it off and returned to my lab.
I was sitting at the computer when I got this extremely strong pain in my neck and the back of my head. Anytime I tried to look to the left, it got worse. I turned and asked my coworker if I looked ok. She said I did and asked why. I told her and she began all the “heart attack/stroke” questions.
She asked if I wanted to go to the ER and I said I was fine. I turned around and began to work again. 8 minutes later I experienced a nauseating wave of dizziness. I told my coworker that maybe she should call.
The team all worked like clockwork. One took my blood pressure, one waited for EMS, and the other called 911 and documented everything.
I felt like I was sweating, and my blood pressure was sort of high. When EMS arrived they threw EKG leads on me and said something looked off. My coworker said there was elevation in a couple leads. They thought it might be a slight heart attack or mild stroke.
My coworker used my phone to call my wife. She called her mom to come over and watch the kids and made the house drive to the hospital. On the way she called my dad.
In the ambulance, they did an IV and asked a bunch of questions. I guess there were things I remember and things I didn’t. They got me right into a room at the ER.
I laid in there with occasional waves of pain in my neck and head. They ran blood work and there was no indication of a heart attack. Glucose was a little high but they said that was nothing to worry about.
I wound up getting a CT scan of the brain and neck, which apparently was normal. “We checked your brain and found nothing .. ” LOL
They put a lidocaine patch on my neck and gave me pain pills. They discharged me shortly after. They had run all the tests they could. If anything changes, I’m to call ER or my primary doc, who I have to see in the next couple days.
So, my fun post will have to wait. Meanwhile, the doc has me off work the rest of the week. Not exactly the vacation I hoped for…..
Monday morning, I sat on the couch after getting the kids some breakfast. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and saw that I had missed a call. There was a voice mail message so I listened to it.
“Hello. This message is for Keith. This is ______, from Dr. _______’s office. If you could please call us back as soon as you get this message at (phone number). It’s concerning your test results. Thank you.”
Here is where my almost heart attack happened. The doctor’s office who called was my urologist. He’s the one who performed my vasectomy. I started to freak out a bit because after I had dropped off my “specimen” I was told I would have results in about a week as to whether or not the vasectomy was a success.
10 days after the drop off, I hadn’t heard anything, so I called the office. The called me back the day after and told me that everything was a success. So just what where they calling to tell me?!?!
I’m not going to lie, the fact that the office was calling and it was “concerning your test results” had my heart racing. Sam heard the message, too, and she was a bit freaked out too.
Office: (Ring) “Dr. _____’s office, this is ______.”
Me: Hello, I am returning your call. They said it was about my results.
Office: Oh, yes. Did you get your results?
Me: Well, I thought I had. Someone called me about 10 days after I dropped things off and told me that everything looked good.Things still look good, right?
Office: Oh, yes. Dr. ______’s assistant is no longer with the office and we weren’t sure who she called with results and who she didn’t call. We’re just making sure everyone that was supposed to get a call, does get one.
Me: Oh thank goodness. I was starting to wonder if I was given the wrong results.
As I was going through my Facebook memories, I realized that it was 40 years ago today that he passed away. It was the first time in my life I ever had to deal with someone close to me dying. As an 11 year old kid, this rocked my world. It was one of those days that is forever etched in my memory.
I recall the phone ringing early that morning. I remember my mom frantically running around, calling my dad at work, and waking my brother and I up. The call was from my grandmother, who had received a call that my grandfather was in Muskegon hospital and had a heart attack. There obviously were many other phone calls to others as everyone rushed to get dressed and out the door.
My brother and I were obviously NOT going to school that day. My parents dropped me off at my other grandparents house for the day. They immediately headed to my grandmother’s to pick her up. I believe my aunt and uncle met them there and they all drove to Muskegon (an approximately 3 hour drive).
Along the way, if memory serves me correctly, my dad was pulled over for speeding. Once the officer heard what was going on, they received a police escort to the hospital. By the time they arrived, however, it was too late. My grandfather had already passed away.
1980 – Christmas Eve – Grandma and Grandpa at the familiar dining table with the huge wooden spoon and fork on the wall.
From the time we were dropped off at my grandparents, my grandma tried to keep us occupied. While much of that time is a blur, I remember when the phone rang and my grandma answered the phone. I remember seeing her get visibly shaken and asked many questions. I recall being anxious to find out what was going on. That is when my grandma slowly got up from the table, hung the phone back up on the wall and sat down next to us on the couch.
“I’m sorry, boys. Grandpa died at the hospital.” I remember crying and not even knowing why I was crying! None of it made any sense to me. I asked when he was coming home and was told that he wasn’t. I remember hoping that it was all a dream or just some false information. I just couldn’t comprehend it all.
I had never been to a funeral in my life. I had never seen anyone in a casket. I remember the days prior to the funeral and a lot of people in and out of my grandma’s house. I recall standing out in the driveway in between cars questioning God as to why this was happening. I just didn’t understand it.
I saw how upset my grandma, my mom, and my aunts were. I saw how it affected my dad and his parents. My cousins were still really too young to grasp any of what was going on. I am not sure my brother really did either. While watching all of them, and seeing how they were feeling, I still couldn’t figure out what I was feeling either!
Grandma holding me while Grandpa looks on …
As with most funerals, there is a time for just family to come in. I recall my mom, my aunts, and my grandma crying. I was scared to go up to the casket. I remember my dad asking me if I was ok and if I wanted to go up there. He knew I was scared and told me it was ok. I remember it being very weird. There was my grandpa, who was always so full of life and laughing, just laying there. I touched his hand and remember being freaked out at how cold he was. My dad did the best he could to explain things to me. I just didn’t get it. Perhaps, I didn’t want to get it. I think deep down, I didn’t want any of it to be real!
One thing that really stands out in my memory about that day was the amount of people who paid their respects to him. There were SO many people there. Family, friends, sales associates, and more. I met many people that he knew while at the funeral home. My grandma, or my mom, or my dad would introduce me to someone and they all had nice things to say about him. “You’re grandpa was a great friend,” “You’re grandpa loved you,” “You’re grandpa was very special to me,” and on and on. I knew how much he meant to me, but to see all the people that knew him, loved him, and respected him … I had a whole new view of him. His life crossed paths with many people and he made an impression. He was loved by more people than I realized.
Grandpa and me – Christmas 1970. I am 7 months old here
I remember going to church with him as a kid. I often sat next to him and would draw pictures in the church bulletin. I would draw pictures of Jonah and the whale, Jesus coming out of the tomb, or just pictures of rainbows and such. I have long forgotten what his voice sounded like, but I remember his voice booming when he sang a hymn at church.
My grandma had an end table in their living room that had doors on it. Inside the table was a stack of coloring books and crayons. I didn’t often listen to what the adults talked about, but one conversation I over heard parts of and I vividly recall my grandpa saying to someone, “One day I’ll see my Savior face to face and that will be amazing.”
I don’t really know how I came to be the one who got this, but I know that this was something that my grandpa carried around in his wallet. It was folded in half. The cross is a bit crushed now, but I still have it:
In a way, the above poem brings comfort to me. I know that my grandpa has indeed met his Savior face to face. I also know that in the future, so will I. There will also be a wonderful reunion in the future, and I will see him again.
40 years have flown by. So many milestones and changes have occurred. Yet so many things surrounding the events of September 24, 1981 are as clear as ever in my memory. As I stated in my previous blog:
The first real life lesson was learned by me that September. If there is someone special in your life who means something to you – tell them! If you love someone – tell them! Never pass up the opportunity to hug or kiss someone! You may never get the chance to do it again.
I was truly lucky to have had 11 wonderful years with him in my life.
For 5 days, I have opened my blog with every intention of writing. I have stared at the blank page, not really knowing what to write. How do I begin to even tackle what has been on my mind? I mean, I didn’t even tell my wife about it until just a couple days ago. I guess I didn’t realize just how much I was thinking about it until a couple weeks of constant dreams and a discussion with my therapist.
Maybe it is the “rising Covid numbers.” Maybe it is the fact that I am now required by work to get vaccinated or lose my job. Maybe it is the fact that death just seems a whole lot more common on my Facebook news feed. I’m not sure, but it seems like I am thinking a lot about it.
I have sleep apnea and wear my CPAP every night. That should allow me to sleep through the night without waking up every couple hours due to apnea. I have checked the CPAP app on my phone and according to it, I am not having enough apneas to wake me up, so why am I up every hour? It’s bad enough to constantly wake up, but when you lay there and fight to go back to sleep, it can be aggravating.
Even trying to fall asleep, my mind will not shut off. My prayers are interrupted with random thoughts. As I close my eyes, I begin to have bizarre thoughts. I find myself screaming inside my head “STOP THINKING ABOUT THAT!” I have tried those apps that play music and “talk” you to sleep. I have tried to put myself in my “happy place,” but my mind just doesn’t want to shut off.
In the past year, I have seen too many people pass away. Not all of them had Covid, but some did. Heart attack, sepsis, old age, cancer, and other illnesses have claimed the lives of friends, former teachers, and former co-workers. Just this week a friend from high school lost her life to Covid.
There is that old quote that says something about the only two certainties in life are death and taxes. A pastor friend of mine always says that the “death rate is still one apiece.” In the Bible, it reads: “And as it is appointed unto men once to die, but after this the judgment” (Hebrews 9:27). In a book I was reading this week it said “You’re only one breath away from eternity.” All of those quotes are true.
I can’t even explain the uneasiness and anguish I have experienced over the past couple weeks. I’m not even sure why! Without getting theological or anything, I will say that I am not afraid of death, because I have settled that issue and know where I am going when I die. That may sound pompous, but I stand by my faith and trust that my Savior, Jesus Christ, died for me.
Despite the fact that I have peace with this, I have found myself laying in bed wondering about things. I have literally laid there with my eyes closed thinking about what I need to write down in a letter to my each of children should something happen or a love letter to my wife. What would I need to tell my dad or my brother? My mind races with these things for absolutely no reason.
As I look around at what is going on in the world, I see things happening that don’t sit well with me. I see such division. I see so much hate. I see (and feel) distrust for the government. There is way too much of the “I’m right! You’re wrong!” mentality. It makes me sad.
I have talked to people “for” and “against” the vaccine. So much uncertainty. I worry. I’m scared. I shouldn’t be, but I am. Is this where it all stems from? God only knows. God give me peace in the days and weeks ahead, please.
Various Ramblings of a Nostalgic Italian 