So this morning as she woke, Sylvia joked: “We should set up a camera and start recording us.” She’s thinking we could make a reality TV show. Oh, Lord!
Actually, the way we’re coping with her ongoing recovery from heart surgery (quadruple bypass and heart valve repair last Tuesday: a ten-hour operation) is working out quite well, and we’re both of us satisfied with the decisions we’ve made regarding different elements of her recovery and encouraged by how much stronger she is getting – not only from day to day, but even as the day (or night) progresses.
We (my sister Carolyn, brother-in-law Mauro, and me) brought her home from the hospital late yesterday afternoon and she confidently walked from the car parked out on the street by our mailbox, up to the house and into the living room. She quickly fell in love with her new recliner chair.
For our dinner I served spring salad with a light olive oil dressing, shrimp cocktail, and apple slices with peanut butter for desert. She didn’t pig out, but she ate well from all three courses.
She enjoyed catching up on back episodes of some of the dramas she follows on TFC (The Filipino Channel) through the evening. Occasionally she would get out of her chair and walk around the house: her doctors have made it clear they want her to exercise regularly and she intends to do just that.
I’ve organised all her medications in those little weekly pill boxes with one compartment for each day of the week. She’s on so many meds that I use two of those: one with her morning pills, and another for her nighttime pills. And I helped her with her nightly regimen of checking her blood pressure and blood sugar level, and her nightly insulin injection.
This morning when she woke to go to the bathroom she decided not to stop at the master bathroom which is closer to the front room where we each slept on separate couches, but walked all the way to her suite of rooms at the end of the hall to use her own bathroom. We were both impressed by how much better she’s walking now.
And the adventure continues…
I’m mighty thankful that there was a comfortable chair nearby to catch me when I went down this morning in my room. Had I gone all the way down to the floor, well…
And yes, I saw my doctor about a week ago and I’ll be into his office again this week having some lab work done. So shut up about that already.
And I’m thankful to be doing most of my reading these days on a Kindle. Being able to adjust the font size up on those days when the eyeballs get screwy sure is nice!
But I’m mostly thankful for Sylvia. God only knows where I’d be without her.
While there is debate over how aggressively high blood pressure should be treated in older patients, the definition of a healthy blood pressure does not change with age for the general population.
Though I’m not quite 70 yet, I am getting pretty darned close. And high blood pressure is a major health concern of mine. We’re adjusting our diet, getting more exercise, trying to lose weight, changing the lifestyle to reduce stress, taking prescribed meds, and monitoring the blood pressure daily: all in an attempt to bring my numbers down and keep them in a healthy range.
And I’m keeping my eyes out for articles like the one sourced here, written for interested nonprofessional folks like me, in an attempt to keep myself educated about the latest news.
Source: Ask Well: Blood Pressure Over Age 70
Darned sinuses during allergy season, darned bad back and shoulders, darned 65+ year-old body that gives me segmented sleeps nightly, darned insomnia… BUT thank God for Eric and Gary, the hosts of Red Eye Radio, who keep me company when I’m up in the middle of the night, which I seem to be regularly.
My Sandman treated me well last night, perhaps to atone for the shoddy way he treated me the night before. Last night’s 10-hour sleep was segmented (the first segment from 21:00 to 23:00, and the second from 00:00 to 08:00) brought three very detailed dreams: one in the first segment and two in the second.
The first dream had me evicting a teen-aged boy from my apartment. He’d been trash-talking me for some time, insulting not only me but so many things that I respected and enjoyed. His mother allowed this kind of behavior from him at home, and he assumed he’d be able to continue it when visiting at my place. When I told him very clearly to stop, he looked me in the eyes and told me to go to Hell. So I escorted him to the door, ushered him out, and told him not to return.
The second dream had me trying to mediate between family factions that did not get along with each other on the day of a wedding between a young man and woman from each faction. The wedding ceremony itself went off without a hitch, but there had developed two separate wedding receptions, and it appeared that whoever attended one reception would incur the scorn of those at the other. Not a healthy situation, that.
The third dream had me tending to a very sick young girl. She was in a coma, in a hospital bed, and I was seated in a chair next to her. I’ve no idea who she was, and I wasn’t a medical person of any kind, but I was there doing what I could do.
Making up for the VERY short sleep of the night previous, last night’s segmented sleep was long and very dream filled. A total of ten hours came from 19:30 to 22:00, and from 00:00 to 07:30. And three very detailed dreams came, all in the night’s second sleep segment.
First dream: In this I was part of a volunteer crew helping a nightclub set up for a major show.
Second dream: Staying in a summer cottage with a group of friends, I had to fix a problem with the plumbing. Some fool had tried to flush a pair of basketball shoes down the toilet.
Third dream: I was taking a road trip and sharing driving duty with an attractive, black-haired woman.