Featured Post

by Mike on March 11th, 2012

Hot:

After nearly two months of waiting for the appointment, I finally got to see the cardiologist on Friday to review the results of the cardiac MRI, blood work, and 30 day heart monitor that I had to endure in an effort to determine why there had been a decline in the function of my heart and if I would need a defibrillator.

I woke up late and had to scramble to get ready and head out to the medical center on the other side of town.  Normally if I’m in a rush and stressed like that it shows up when the nurses check my blood pressure, etc.., but not this visit.  My BP was normal and by the time the doctor came in to see me, I was oddly peaceful.

To my relief, the doctor confirmed that the cardiac MRI  indicated that my ejection fraction is at 47%. That is in stark contrast to the 35% that previous tests had indicated. And since defibrillators generally aren’t prescribed for patients with ejection fractions over 36%, that means I will not need one.  The doctor stated that a normal ejection fraction is around 55%, and since mine is 47%, he considers the weakness of my heart muscle to be mild.  Since I’m already taking the best medications for treating congestive heart failure and improving heart strength, the doctor wants to continue with the regimen that I’m on now and see how things progress.

The results of the blood work done to check my potassium, iron, thyroid, etc… all came back within the normal ranges.  While I’m thankful that those results were good, they are also frustrating because we were hoping to find a treatable cause for the decline, like an iron overload or something like that.  Alas, there’s no evidence of that, and I’m really not going to spend much time dwelling on it.

There were a few points of interest on tapes from the heart monitor I wore for a month, but the doctor said they seemed to indicate normal elevations in heart rate that anyone can expect from time to time.  Nothing to really worry about.

I can’t begin to explain how glad I am to finally have some of the answers that I needed, and how thankful I am that the results from the tests were worth the grief I endured going through them.  And as frustrating as the wait has been, it’s been worth it.

As for that odd peaceful feeling I was feeling on Friday?  It’s still with me as I write this.  I’m more at peace with things now than I have been in a long time.  And, along with the improvement in how I’m feeling mentally, I’m also feeling better and stronger physically.  And that, my friends, is saying something.

And speaking of friends, I can’t begin to say how much I appreciate the love, support, good thoughts and prayers that I’ve received from everyone in the Diabetes Online Community over the last few months.  If there were any doubts in my mind as to whether I’m loved or not, they are long gone.  To all of you:  Thank You, and Lots of Love, my friends!

Popular Post

by Mike on March 20th, 2011

Hot:

In previous blog posts and conversations over the last two years, I’ve made no bones about the fact that I’ve battled with bouts of depression and anxiety since I was diagnosed with congestive heart failure and type 2 diabetes.

The daily routines of medications, blood sugar testing, meal planning, and other related bullshit, combined with the constant worry of trying to figure out how to pay for all of those medications and testing supplies, are simply overwhelming at times.

Add to that all of the typical stuff that goes along with every day life, you know… work, bills, chores, relationships, etc… and you’ve got yourself a great big barrel of fun.

Then top that off with dealing with a loved one being diagnosed with stage 4 cancer and going through all of the activities and emotions that go along with that, and being forced to put a near 9 year relationship on hold while your best friend becomes the primary caregiver for that loved one, and that great big barrel of fun transforms into the biggest clusterf*#K you’ve ever seen.

It’s all enough to destroy someone mentally. And the extreme mental hurt quickly manifests into extreme physical hurt. And you eventually reach a point where you just can’t take it anymore, and feel like throwing the towel in.

As difficult as it is for me to admit, I reached that point in the early part of February.

And the hard part is that I know it didn’t have to happen. I had a little bottle of “happy” pills in my possession that my doctor had given me the month before. I just wasn’t able to take them immediately, because I was starting a new blood sugar medication and had to get through the side effects of it before starting the other medicine.

And then when it was time to start the Celexa, I kept putting it off and putting it off, because of the fear that I’d have the same problems with it that I had with similar drugs years before. When you’ve had a bad experience with medications, or anything for that matter, you tend to shy away from them. It’s perfectly normal to have those feelings.

Things finally reached a point in early February where I knew I needed help, and knew that I had to take the plunge into the world of anti-depressants and anti-anxiety medications again. And so, on the 21st of last month, I broke the seal on the prescription bottle, cut the little pill in half as the doctor had instructed, and jumped.

Tomorrow, March 21st, will mark a month since I started the medication, and I can honestly say that I’m glad I did. I’m not nearly as edgy as I had been, and feel quite mellow most of the time. And mellow is a good thing.

The moral of this story is this: It’s OK to need help; You just have to ask for it!