Still Counting

December 2020:  still counting

When she read my last blog, my wife, Lorraine, complained that I should call it not “Living with heart failure”, but “Gardening with heart failure.”    Fair comment, will try to do better. My message was :  with heart  failure you could still do important things you always did, you just had to learn how to do them m differently and more slowly.

            One way I do things differently and more slowly is climbing stairs.  I could do this, but my, it was hard work, and a long period of shortness of breath awaited me at  the top.  So I took the plunge and bought a stair lift.  Not as straightforward as I expected.  I tried a local company; they had  good salesman, but what a price!  Tried a different one, another great sales spiel, quoted the best part of  £4,000, for a straight stair lift, without  problems.  Tried a third, decided to haggle hard.  Eventually got an offer for just over £2,000, from a reputable firm.  Accepted this as so much better than the other offers, though I suspect I could have got a better deal if I had persisted, though doubtless sacrificing some quality and reliability.  Still I have had a year’s use of the stair lift, not a hint of trouble;  costly but I am so glad we bought it. 

            The vaccine has brought welcome hope towards the end of a difficult year.  Being over 85 and “clinically extremely vulnerable” is sobering, but a small consolation is we shall be among first to receive the vaccine.   A  lot of patience is required, and a lot more hibernation, but there is the prospect of a holiday and most important, seeing my lovely family again – and the opportunity to catch up on long overdue hugs. 

            So, another year, a difficult, often depressing year, has gone by.  I am a little more breathless on exertion, a little slower, more easily fatigued, but still going, more or less independent, and still COUNTING. 

 

Intermittent blog returns

Many apologies to the one possible reader of this blog.  Must do better. 

Plus ça change.  4 years ago in the blog I wrote: “Every year  since I returned from working abroad, I have set myself the target of adding a good dose of compost to the vegetable beds, sowing mustard (green manure), digging it all in when the mustard had gown well, then sowing some more mustard and letting it grow and then die over the winter.  Once upon a time I could manage this effortlessly.  The last few years it has required a big effort, and frequent stops.  But little by little, and a bit later than usual, I have completed the tasks.   There is nothing to match home-grown vegetables; this requires attention to the soil.  Not cost effective, no doubt, but well worth it.  Tomatoes, potatoes and runner beans were this year some of the best ever. 
Suffering from cardiac failure, however inaccurate the term, leads to some soul searching.  Will I still be here next year? If still here, will I be fit enough to do all the raising from seed, planting and tending etc?  Am I foolish to waste valuable time preparing veg beds that may not be used next year?  Who knows?    I prefer to be positive.  However tiring, I actually enjoy managing the beds.  I would be extremely sorry if in a fit of pessimism I left the veg beds untended, and found next year I was fit enough to do the usual garden work, but the beds were not properly prepared."

I have prepared the vegetable bed for runner beans,  adding compost, also for the raspberries.  For greenhouse tomatoes, I now replace old soil with a bucket of compost where each tomato will be planted.  This has worked extremely well, and this year’s crop was one of the best ever.  Potatoes I plant in ten litre buckets, draining of course, which means replacing the soil each year with fresh soil that has not grown potatoes.  Then sowing caliente mustard.    Just like four years ago, this was a slow business, now even slower.  But completed!    Other areas are neglected; there are too many weeds and pruning is behindhand.   Fortunately the weather on the whole has permitted some gardening, itself a welcome relief in lockdown.

Perhaps next year, perish the thought, I shall have to get the help of a gardener. 

I haven’t been doing as much exercise as I used to, have to try to do better. But here I am still,  approaching a rather ancient birthday, but COUNTING.

 

 

Emerging from the slough

It is more than six months since the last blog, once again apologies for long delay. Much of what I wrote last time could be written again. Since I last wrote, it took weeks and weeks to get over the recurrent chest Infections, with attendant lethargy. But eventually it ended. Always remain positive; it takes patience, which with me is in short supply. I got back energy and determined to exercise as much as possible while health remained good. I resumed regular bedex, and slowly (because aging muscles need treating with care) increased repetitions.

Recently I have added light weights (about 4 Kg) to sit/stands, and even 1.5 Kg ankle weights. I have several times beaten my time for the round the block walk, several times under 11 minutes, and even one specially exhilarating day when I managed 10.30 minutes. As nothing for the fit, but near miraculous for a heart patient like me. Three months ago I had endured a dispiriting period of low energy and shortness of breath which I feared would never end. The point of writing this is to encourage fellow sufferers that even a long period of ill health, lassitude and depression can come to an end. Then grab the improvement and steadily increase exercise.

This weekend, Lorraine and I went to London to celebrate the birthday of my grandson, Tim. He is a teacher, young and fit, and walking a few miles rapidly is nothing to him. Travelling round London, finishing up with the amazingly wonderful An American in Paris, involves lots of changes of trains, lots of stairs (escalators not working), and generally lots of walking. We managed, walking in total far more than we had done all year. I won’t claim we kept up with Tim, he adjusted his pace to ours, but we did keep going, including one short burst of fast walking to catch a train with literally a minute to spare. I must add that I salute Londoners. Three times over the weekend we got into a train when all seats were occupied. On each occasion someone promptly gave up their seat for the old gent with a stick, and twice for Lorraine as well. Much appreciated.

I have emerged from “The slough of despond” fearing it would never end. Now I am experiencing a period of energy and wellness. I am determined to do all the tiring autumn garden jobs: loads or compost to vegetable beds, digging it in etc. We are so encouraged we hope to go to on holiday Tenerife this season. Fellow sufferers, remember Sir Winston’s words: “Keep b*****ing on”.

Long-lasting lethargy

Long-lasting lethargy

I originally intended to write the blog fairly regularly, though not setting myself any target frequency such as once a month.   I feel a bit guilty that the gap since the last one is so long.  Partly this is sheer laziness, partly this was due to a lack of energy on many days such that it took a huge effort to do more than read the paper and watch TV;  and partly that there has not been much to write, cardiac-wise as it were.   I am relieved that my ICD has remained silent, though thoroughly checked to ensure it was working properly.   My pulse rate is still irregular, but thanks to bisoprolol controlled pretty well around 60 – 70.  .I was feeling so well that we booked a holiday in Tenerife, mainly for the sunshine.  The flight was no problem, but lengthy walking at the airport can be tiring.  It was .nothing to do with the heart, but I did have a successful cataract operation at the end of November.

        The last few weeks have been uneventful as far as my Chronic Cardiac Dysfunction (CCDF) is concerned, though this can be difficult to interpret, as my medical condition is complicated by co-existing COPD.  I caught the prevailing adenovirus infection around Christmas; as usual this went to my chest.  I had terribly distressing coughs, and much worse Shortness of Breath than usual.  I had to give up even my bedroom exercise (bedex) programme.  Gradually I improved thanks to a course of Co-amoxyclav.   However as has happened before, after a wonderful period of gradually getting better, back to bedex, the wretched cough and SOB returned.  I am now on a course of Clarithromycin, and gradually improving.  I have even resumed bedex, gently.   The lethargy is getting less.  Whether this awful lethargy is caused by CCDF, COPD, depression or lasting effects of the adenovirus infection  I do not know.  I have resumed my walk round the block.  I can’t measure the distance, probably about half a mile, mostly flat, but the inclines, though slight, can be a bit challenging.  Last week it took me 15.18 minutes, today, a trivial triumph,  14.05 minutes.  I know most people could probably do it in half that time, but to me it is a sign of progress; I like to think a harbinger of recovery to “my usual normal.”  Is it too much to hope that the period of cold and damp will soon be over, and we can welcome Spring? 

Autumn garden chores completed

Autumn garden chores completed

Every year  since I returned from working abroad, I have set myself the target of adding a good dose of compost to the vegetable beds, sowing mustard (green manure), digging it all in when the mustard had gown well, then sowing some more mustard and letting it grow and then die over the winter.  Once upon a time I could manage this effortlessly.  The last few years it has required a big effort, and frequent stops.  But little by little, and a bit later than usual, I have completed the tasks.   There is nothing to match home-grown vegetables; this requires attention to the soil.  Not cost effective, no doubt, but well worth it.  Tomatoes, potatoes and runner beans were this year some of the best ever. 

Suffering from cardiac failure, however inaccurate the term, leads to some soul searching.  Will I still be here next year? If still here, will I be fit enough to do all the raising from seed, planting and tending etc?  Am I foolish to waste valuable time preparing veg beds that may not be used next year?  Who knows?    I prefer to be positive.  However tiring, I actually enjoy managing the beds.  I would be extremely sorry if in a fit of pessimism I left the veg beds untended, and found next year I was fit enough to do the usual garden work, but the beds were not properly prepared. 

I am keeping reasonably fit, though wonky knees make walking hard on some days.  I am sticking to bedroom exercises (Bedex) several times a week, and have now refined them:

Warm-up: alternate knees up, then legs up and back, heel raising (single leg raising much harder for me) and deep breathing.  Aim for at least 10 repetitions for each. 

Main exercises.  Sit/stands, slowly with control), wall press-ups, single arm curls with dumbbells rather than bands, single arm  dumbbell presses (lying on back to reduce pressure on back) and the “dead bug” exercise for the back (watch the elegant demo on U-tube), and more sit/stands.  For each I aim for at least 10 to 20 repetitions

Cool down: marching and lots of stretches, especially hamstrings. 

Unfortunately there are days when lethargy makes even these exercises hard.  I work on the notion that even doing some of them is better than doing nothing. 

Hooray!

I don’t normally use many exclamation marks, they are often unnecessary and it is easy to overuse them.  Today I make an exception.  I have just come back from Worcester, and got the all clear from the arrhythmia clinic.   I have been extra careful the last six weeks, in fact over seven weeks, since the implant; during this time.  I have not been allowed to vacuum, mow lawns, lift anything with my left arm heavier than a book, or to raise the left arm above shoulder height.  Even putting on a jacket or tying a tie needs concentration to keep the left arm below shoulder level.  One of the doctors put the fear of God into me if I didn’t observe these restrictions, how the electrode could become displaced, when the device would need reinserting. 

         However this morning, with great speed and efficiency, the cardiac technician had her machine talking to my implant.  “All good, no runs of fast beats, just what we want.”.  Then she mentioned something not included in the mass of literature provided at the initial consultation.  She made my implant vibrate.  This is rather subtle, a gentle buzz by the ICD, easy to miss if I hadn’t had the test.  If this happens it is not serious, but the clinic should be informed so that they can check and make adjustments to the implant if necessary.  So my next appointment is six months away; I can mow lawns, dig veg patches,and do wall press-ups with both arms.    Hooray!  This is an Oyster Bay day.