Tag: medication

Do you have an ‘ology’ collection

Ian Hunter1 Comment

The very first ‘ology’ I recall was in my school days in biology classes

We dissected frogs and studied anatomy

Those classes had a profound effect on me

Whenever I saw a frog in nature, it conjured up images of it being pinned spreadeagled on a board and poked with a very sharp scalpel

Many years passed before my next ‘ology’ encounter when a severe intestinal issue required a meeting with a gastroenterology specialist

Fortunately he did not pin me to a board to treat me and I soon got better

Although I am not truly aware of exactly what they do to me while sleeping through all the colonoscopies I have endured

Vision problems added yet another ‘ology’ into my life as I attempted to read very minute letters on a distant screen

There were lots of certificates on the wall with the word ophthalmology in big bold letters

I could not make out the small print in those certificates

I imagined it said things like ‘if you can read this then you don’t need glasses’

I left his office wearing glasses

My next ‘ology’ encounter was necessary to investigate issues with my heart. My cardiologist did mostly blood work with occasional stress tests but I eventually succumbed to surgery to control my AFib

My gradual loss of hearing introduced me to another ‘ology’

The audiologist put me in a sound proof booth with headphones and very faint beeps

Thankfully the hearing aid fitting did not require a sharp scalpel

I recall the occasion when my regular doctor flagged my PSA blood results

I added the urologist to my list of ologies

He preferred the needle over the scalpel as he performed multiple prostate biopsies

This was certainly not my favorite ‘ology’

Moving on to strange markings on my skin which required me to see yet another ‘ology’

The dermatology doctor was for many years the most non-invasive of the gang

He simply looked at my skin and lectured me about sunscreen until one day he found a small bump on my forehead

His eyes lit up as he explained that this basal cell growth must be removed

And yes, he did it with a very sharp scalpel

My aging joints had me creaking across the room to see a rheumatology doctor who has so far also spared me from the scalpel

It seems like my general doctor is always looking for an excuse to add another ology into my life

Some deficiencies in my blood tests had me trotting off into the world of endocrinology

I was relived to see no signs of sharp cutting instruments in her office

I have now collected so many ‘ology’ doctors that my calendar is littered with ongoing ‘ology’ appointments

Its time the medical profession combined forces to create the ultimate multiologist

Then I would only have to see that person once a year for checks my skin, eyes, ears, bladder, prostate, hormones, joints, heart and colon in one sitting

It would certainly require an anesthesiology person to put me under for this mass probing

While unconscious, I will probably have strange dreams about a giant frog wearing a vest that says pathology

As he pins me to a board and sharpens his scalpel

Cardiac prison

Ian Hunter4 Comments

seven years ago I first experienced Afib

A sudden rapid heartbeat woke me at 3am from a deep sleep,

no warning, no preface,

just the violent knocking inside my chest

as if someone had broken into my body in the night

I was tossed into a frightening tachycardia prison,

dazed and confused,

with no explanation why

there were hospitals, doctors, tests and examinations.

bright lights, cool hands, monitors blinking in coded language

the first episode lasted twenty-four hours

an entire day measured in racing pulses

after that, it came back at random times,

an uninvited warden with a master key

I took medication each time it flared up,

and within a few hours relief would arrive,

quietly unlocking the cell

my cardiologist is a great detective,

sifting through evidence and clues,

piecing together the pattern of my captivity

he helped uncover the lifestyle triggers

that threw me into the Afib jail:

dehydration,

caffeine,

alcohol

I learned to avoid their bad company

I passed them by like known criminals on a corner

my Afib jail time became much less frequent

the pill in my pocket became the lawyer

springing me out on bail

I could live a normal life

with that small tablet resting near my hip,

a quiet reassurance against my side

then, lest week, I was suddenly slung back into the Afib jail

wrongful arrest, I cried,

knowing none of my triggers had been around

calmly, I reached for the magic pill in my pocket.

I waited and waited and waited…….

as my heart beat incredibly fast,

like a trapped bird battering its cage

many hours passed

more intense and longer than usual

the pill had lost its magic, Mr Afib was running amok inside me

a hospital visit ensued

doctors, nurses, tests and I was admitted for observation

I lay in a hospital bed, motionless for long days and nights,

imprisoned within another prison,

walls outside and walls within

eventually they found a way to lower my heart rate with more medication

I was still in the Afib jail

but released from the hospital on bail

Afib took over my life

sleep became fragile and unreliable

exertion was impossible

relaxation unreachable

there was nowhere to escape

the new medication made me very tired

I became a couch dweller,

impatiently waiting for relief

more long days passed,

trying to live a normal life

while my heart fluttered and skipped,

every movement felt negotiated

with the erratic rhythm inside me

I prayed for relief, searched the internet for remedies, hoping my cardiologist would find a cure

The drums in my chest beat out a crazy tune 24/7

After seven days it abruptly stopped

no ceremony

no warning

no explanation

Mr Afib had left without saying goodbye

or leaving a note

Perhaps it was Mr Afib that was in jail,

locked inside his cardiac cell,

banging on the walls of my heart

demanding his release from me

Somebody sprung him free last night. 

he roams  elsewhere now,

looking for trouble in other places

I suspect he will be back sometime

next week I will see my cardiologist

I hope his detective skills are still sharp

we must work together to tame the beast

and keep me outside the tall walls of the Afib prison

In the meantime,

I am basking in the morning glory

of waking up without the pounding in my chest

My heart is bruised but not battered

Prayers have been answered

Normal service has been restored

Life is sweet

with a normal heartbeat