Tag Archives: Hospital

Maybe My Fishing Days Aren’t Over After All

28 Friday Aug 2026

Posted by in Fishing, Kayaking, Life, Nature, Uncategorized

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After my back started giving me issues a few months ago—and especially after dealing with the pain following one of my attempts to go fishing—I had pretty much decided that my fishing days were coming to an end.

I just couldn’t sit in a kayak for more than a couple of hours before my back reminded me I was no longer 25.

Apparently, my back has a better memory than I do.

After spending some time with my therapist, we talked about some possible solutions. One of those was trying a different type of fishing seat that might provide more support for my lower back.

That sounded like a great idea, except for one small problem: finding a seat that would actually fit my kayak.

After more than a month of research, I finally purchased one that I thought would work. I was hoping it would give my back the support it needed and, perhaps, give me a few more fishing hours before my body decided it had enough.

I received the seat about two weeks ago, but between my wife and my doctor’s appointments and my daughter being in the hospital, I hadn’t had a chance to take it out on its maiden voyage.

There was another problem, too.

If I was going to try it out, I needed to go by myself.

Normally, I would invite my fishing buddy to go with me. But I had no idea how long I would actually be able to stay on the water. The last thing I wanted was for him to drive all the way out there, get comfortable, unpack everything, and start fishing, only for me to announce an hour later, “Well, boys and girls, my back has spoken. We’re going home.”

I knew if he went with me, he would want to spend the day on the water. And honestly, I couldn’t promise him that I could make it through the day.

So, I went by myself.

I didn’t leave nearly as early as I would have if my buddy had gone with me. Normally, we’re on the road around 5:30 in the morning. This time, it was nearly 7:00 when I finally hit the road.

I figured if my back was going to ruin my fishing trip, I might as well let it sleep a little later first.

I arrived at the creek around 7:45 and was at my first fishing hole by about 8:30.

I knew almost immediately that the new seat was going to give me more support. The real question was whether it would give me enough support to actually stay out there for a few hours.

I fished for several hours and, while I did start to feel a little fatigued, it was nothing I couldn’t handle. That alone felt like a pretty big victory.

I finally left my fishing spot around 11:30 and made it back to the launch a little after noon.

My back was a little stiff, but that was about it.

And that was a whole lot better than it had been a few weeks earlier.

In fact, I consider the trip a success. I didn’t have to call anybody to come rescue me, I didn’t have to paddle back using only my arms because my back had gone on strike, and I actually got to fish for several hours.

That’s a win in my book.

I also finished my last session of an eight-week round of physical therapy on Monday. The therapy definitely helped, but now I have to wonder: Was I able to stay out fishing longer because of the therapy, because of the new seat, or because of both?

Truth be known, it was probably a combination of the two.

And I’ll take it as a win either way.

Now, before anyone gets excited and thinks I’m going back to spending all day on the water, let me stop you right there.

I’m not.

I’ve learned that I need to listen to what my back is telling me. Ignoring it usually ends with me regretting my life choices somewhere between the kayak and the truck.

So, I’ve decided that 11:30 will be my new fishing curfew.

If my buddy wants to stay longer, that’s perfectly fine.

He can stay.

He can fish until dark if he wants.

He can catch all the fish.

He can even catch the big one that I would have caught if I had stayed.

I’m going home at 11:30.

Because apparently, I’ve reached the age where my fishing buddy isn’t the one who decides when we leave.

My back does.

And believe me, that thing has no problem telling me when it’s time to go.

So maybe my fishing days aren’t over after all.

I just have a new fishing partner.

His name is Lower Back.

He’s not very good company; he complains constantly, and he never helps paddle.

But he always knows when it’s time to go home.

I Hate Hospitals

24 Monday Aug 2026

Posted by in Family, Life

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Hospitals are not my thing.

I ought to know. I’ve spent my fair share of time in them over the past several years.

For the last few years, it’s been my mom who has had to spend time in the hospital for one reason or another, and my siblings and I have spent plenty of days sitting beside her during her stays.

And honestly, it’s one of the worst things I’ve ever had to do.

Not because I don’t want to be there for my family—I absolutely do. But sitting in a hospital room all day trying to make small talk is just not my idea of a good time.

When I’m the one in the hospital, I’d much rather be left alone. Give me a book, a television, and a pillow, and I’ll be perfectly happy to entertain myself. When people come to visit me, I feel like I have to entertain them, and that’s the last thing I want to worry about when I’m sick.

Unfortunately, for the past few days, I’ve found myself spending quite a bit of time in a hospital.

This time, it wasn’t for me or even for one of my parents.

It was for one of my daughters.

She has been in the hospital because of complications from mononucleosis—Mono, for short. Her spleen is enlarged, and she developed an infection that the doctors wanted to make sure wasn’t being caused by something other than the Mono.

Exactly why it took several days to figure all of this out is still beyond me.

Her boyfriend took her to the ER Thursday afternoon around 2:00. She wasn’t seen until sometime after 6:00 and wasn’t admitted to the hospital until the following day.

Four hours just to be seen, and then another night before they decided to admit her. Maybe I’m just impatient, but that seemed a little ridiculous to me.

They did scans. They drew blood. Tests were run. Promises were made—and apparently forgotten.

Once she was finally admitted, it seemed like the hospital had no idea what the ER had already done. So, they started doing tests all over again.

It was almost like she had checked into the hospital and said, “Hi, I’m here. Let’s start from the beginning.”

On Saturday afternoon, the hospitalist came in and said she wanted to keep my daughter one more night for observation. She assured us that, barring any problems, she should be able to go home the next day.

The next morning, my other daughter said she could stay a little longer so she could take her home when she was discharged.

My wife and I went to church and then went out to eat afterward. We hadn’t planned on going to the hospital that afternoon, but eventually made our way there so we could relieve my other daughter.

Several hours passed.

Still no word about my daughter going home.

Finally, I went to the nurses’ station and asked what was going on.

That’s when we found out the doctor had actually decided earlier that my daughter was NOT going home.

Wait… what?

When exactly were we going to be told this?

If I hadn’t gone to the nurses’ station and asked, there’s no telling when we would have found out.

Needless to say, I was livid.

The doctor finally made her way into the room about three hours after I had made my inquiry. After expressing my disappointment that no one had bothered to keep us informed, she explained that she was trying to consult an infectious disease doctor to make sure there wasn’t something else going on.

That’s when my wife pointed out that an infectious disease doctor was already supposed to be involved.

Apparently, the hospitalist wasn’t aware of that.

The ER doctor was supposed to have already ordered the consultation, but somewhere along the way, someone dropped the ball.

And unfortunately, my daughter was the one lying in that hospital bed while everyone tried to figure out whose ball it was.

This morning, the infectious disease doctor finally reviewed her bloodwork and assured my daughter that there was nothing else going on. Everything she was experiencing was related to the Mono.

Her instructions?

Go home.

Rest.

Give it a week or so.

That’s exactly what she’s doing now.

She’s home, resting, and hopefully on the road to recovery from what has been a pretty debilitating illness.

I know hospitals and healthcare workers are dealing with tremendous workloads, and I appreciate the people who take care of us when we need them.

But sometimes I really do wonder how we’ve managed to make it this far in our healthcare system.

Maybe I’m just getting old.

Or maybe I’ve spent enough time in hospitals to know that sometimes the biggest challenge isn’t figuring out what’s wrong with the patient.

It’s figuring out what everyone else is supposed to be doing.

For now, though, I’m just thankful my daughter is home.

And I think we’ll all sleep a little better knowing she’s there.

When Plans Change in an Instant

17 Friday Jul 2026

Posted by in Family, Kayaking, Life, Uncategorized

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It doesn’t matter how carefully you make your plans—one phone call from one of your parents can change everything in the blink of an eye.

I had planned on going fishing today. It had already been a challenge just getting ready. I had a meeting Thursday night, so I wasn’t able to load my kayak until I got home late. I loaded everything else beforehand, leaving only the kayak for when I returned.

We’re also down to one vehicle right now, so after my physical therapy session, I needed to take my wife grocery shopping. Then I had to drive across town to exchange my shoes before I could even think about heading to the water.

Then the phone rang.

It was my mom.

She told me my dad had fallen outside. According to her, there was blood everywhere. She had already called 911, and the paramedics were on their way to take him to the emergency room.

I left the house immediately. I got to the ER so quickly that I actually arrived before the ambulance did.

A short time later, my mom and my nephew arrived, and Dad came in around the same time. He had a pretty nasty gash on his forehead that had cut open a blood vessel. He also broke his nose and badly bruised his right arm.

My sister arrived shortly afterward, and then came the waiting. Anyone who has spent time in an emergency room knows that waiting is just part of the process.

After about two hours, I knew Dad was stable and being well cared for. Since there wasn’t much more I could do, I left to attend my meeting.

A couple of hours later, after the meeting ended, I called to check on everyone. Thankfully, they were already back home.

I called Dad again this morning, and I’m happy to report that he had a good night. He’ll see a doctor on Tuesday to have his broken nose evaluated. I offered to take him, but my nephew may be able to do it. We’ll know for sure in the next couple of days.

Days like yesterday are a reminder of how quickly life can change. One minute you’re thinking about fishing, and the next you’re sitting in an emergency room with your family.

I’m just thankful the outcome wasn’t worse. At 87 years old, a fall can be life-changing. God was watching over Dad, and for that, I’m incredibly grateful.

When “Stable” Is a Standing Ovation

30 Friday Jan 2026

Posted by in Cancer, Diabetic, diet, Leukemia, Life, Uncategorized, Weight Loss

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My nephrologist called me the other day to reschedule my appointment. Apparently, the hospital had a flood on the top floor, and their offices were flooded as well. Because when you’re already dealing with kidney issues, why not throw in some surprise indoor rain?

As a result, they had to temporarily move their offices to one of their satellite locations in a nearby city. The day before my appointment, they called again and asked if we could just do a teleconference instead. Same time, same doctor, no driving, and no pants required from the waist down—absolutely.

My lab work had already been done a couple of weeks earlier, and because I like to mentally prepare myself for either good news or emotional damage, I had my results emailed directly to me. Now, I’m not a doctor, and I don’t pretend to understand every number on those reports, but there are a few that I follow very closely.

First up is eGFR, or estimated Glomerular Filtration Rate. This number tells you how well your kidneys are filtering your blood. A normal range is between 90 and 120—numbers I personally haven’t seen in a while and would probably frame if they ever showed up again.

  • 60–89 is Stage 2 kidney disease
  • 45–59 is Stage 3a
  • 30–44 is Stage 3b
  • 15–29 is Stage 4
  • Below 15 means kidney failure, and dialysis becomes a very real conversation

Then there’s Creatinine, a waste product filtered by the kidneys. In simple terms, the higher the number, the worse things are working. Think of it as your kidneys’ performance review—lower is better.

The last big number I keep an eye on is hemoglobin, the protein responsible for carrying oxygen throughout your body. This one has a direct impact on how much energy I have, which explains why some days I feel like I could conquer the world, and other days I need a nap after tying my shoes. Normal range is 13.2-17.1

So here are the numbers I focus on:

  • eGFR: 35
  • Creatinine: 2.09
  • Hemoglobin: 10.5

Now yes, an eGFR of 35 doesn’t exactly scream “picture of perfect health,” but context is everything. Last year, that number was 14. At that point, my doctor was already talking about my next visit being with a dialysis specialist. That’s not a meeting you look forward to.

So going from 14 to 35? I’ll call that a solid upgrade.

My creatinine also improved significantly—from 4.29 last year down to just over 2. Another small victory, but I’ll gladly stack those wins wherever I can get them.

Hemoglobin, however, continues to do whatever it wants. It fluctuates so much that I regularly need iron infusions. My oncologist thinks it’s related to my kidney function, while my nephrologist believes it’s tied to the chemo drug I’m on. At this point, I feel like the two of them should arm wrestle, and whoever wins gets to be right.

When the call wrapped up, my nephrologist said she was happy with where things are. She even used the word “stable.”

And if you’ve never dealt with chronic illness, “stable” might sound underwhelming. But when you live in this world, stable is a beautiful word.

Stable means no dialysis—for now.
Stable means nothing is getting worse.
Stable means today is better than last year.

So yeah, I’ll take stable.
No complaints.
And preferably without any more floods—indoor or otherwise.

Update: Post-Op Day 6

30 Tuesday Apr 2024

Posted by in bariatric-surgery, Weight Loss

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The day of the surgery started off on a bad foot and it didn’t end there. First of all, I was told to be at the hospital at 5am with a surgery time of 9am. At 5am it’s dark and my wife can’t see to drive in the dark so I asked if we could move the surgery time to a later time. 7am was the latest that I could get there and still have the surgery. We arrived at 6:30am and were told that I was way early and my surgery wasn’t scheduled until 1pm. There was nothing to do but wait.

A little after noon, I was finally called back. My wife and I were sent to a pre-op room where they tried three times before they were able to start an IV. I was asked several questions regarding my meds and my health. I was given a gown and told to undress and slip on the hospital gown. I was allowed to say my goodbyes to my wife and was rolled out of that room into the surgery room where I met at least three more nurses who introduced themselves and I don’t remember anything after that.

I was awakened by one of my nurses yelling my name telling me to wake up. I remember them saying that my oxygen was low and they were trying to get my bi-pap working. They were having a hard time because the had the hose hooked up backwards. In my drunken state, I had to try to tell them they had it hooked up wrong. Why they didn’t put me on oxygen I’ll never know.

One of the things I had asked the surgeon to look at while she was in my belly was a hernia. She informed me that her main goal was to do the gastric bypass and if she had time she would look at it. Well, that changed. Once she got into my belly, she found that my gallbladder was about to explode. It was full of inflammation and was bleeding. It was surprising that I hadn’t had any symptoms. The first step was to remove my gallbladder. With the gallbladder removed she noticed that my stomach had risen up into my esophagus. She then had to fix the stomach issue. Once she did that she fixed the hernia then she proceeded to do the gastric bypass. The surgeon told my wife that I was one sick puppy.

During surgery, they had to run a tube down my throat. I’m still coughing from that. My incisions are still a little sore, all five of them. I’m still in the liquid stage of my diet and I should start to be able to eat pureed food on Thursday. I’m so looking forward to that. I can’t tell if I’m losing weight because of the cast. I just had a new one put on yesterday and it feels heavier than the others. The orthopedic doctor fitted me with a Crow Boot yesterday so hopefully, I’ll graduate from a cast in a couple of weeks to a month. At least in a Crow Boot I’ll be able to walk some and climb stairs better than I am now.

Living with CML

17 Wednesday Jul 2019

Posted by in Cancer, Family, Leukemia

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Let me introduce you to a friend of mine.  Her name is Tiffany.  She is currently in her third year of remission.  The above picture is the day she was admitted into the hospital for a month long round of treatment for CML.

Her story is a little different than mine.  She claimed that she had trouble taking her meds. She had terrible reactions when she took her meds and therefore quit taking them. Her CML advanced into something else and her doctors had to take more radical steps in treating her.  She was only treated for about a year with oral meds before she had her bmt.  Her Instagram account is full of pictures where she shows tubes running out of her nose and later being put in her chest.  These are pictures that I look at and put concern in my heart.

I’ve been put in the hospital before for different reasons but only for a short time.  I think the most I’ve ever stayed in a hospital is five days.  I can tell you that I like to have went out of my mind after staying in the hospital that long.  One thing that I know will be different, after about the third day, I felt pretty good.  Good enough to go home.  I doubt very seriously that after three or four days I’ll feel like going home.

There is still a lot that I don’t know about having a bmt.  I do know that before anything happens a donor will have to be found.  That could take a while even though I do have three siblings that could be a match.  I also found out that I could be having some kidney trouble.  This too could also slow things down I suppose.  I have an appointment with the kidney doctor next week.

I’m a person of worry.  I worry about everything.  The main worry I have right now is that once treatment starts I won’t be able to leave the hospital.  That means that all my family better stay safe.  I can’t be leaving the hospital to go to no funerals.  Things that get broken will have to stay broken until such time as I feel like repairing them or I can get someone there to repair it.  I may get someone that I used to work with to check on my wife from time to time to make sure nothing needs repaired.

Life is an Adventure Part 1

17 Wednesday Jul 2019

Posted by in Cancer, Leukemia

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Life is certainty an adventure.  One that rarely disappoints.  That is, if you life long enough to live through it.  If you’ve been following my blog for any length of time, you should know by now that I am cursed with the dreaded “C” word, Cancer.  I have what is known as CML.  Chronic Myeloid Leukemia.  I was diagnosed with CML back in February, 2014, Valentines day to be exact.  Since my diagnosis, I have been on three different types of oral medications, the preferred form of chemotherapy for this type of Leukemia.  Each one with it’s own faults.  With each medication, it would start off working but for some reason the med would stop working and I’d be left with months of trying different dosages trying to find a happy medium.  When this last drug bit the dust, my oncologist gave me the dreaded news that he would be deferring me to another oncologist, one who specializing in bone marrow transplants.  At this writing, I have an appointment this Friday with an oncologist at another hospital.  However, this doctor is not part of the transplant team.  So, I’m somewhat concerned as to why I’m seeing him.

This is the end of Part 1.  Part 2 will come after the meeting with this new oncologist.  If things go according to the way I think, I will be going through the transplant soon.  I’m not sure when but I know it will be soon.  Donors will have to be found,  tests will have to be run and so forth.  I will keep this blog going as long as I feel like blogging.  Pray for me during this time._2TH1271_tonemapped

Update 12/17/2016

17 Saturday Dec 2016

Posted by in Cancer, Family, Photography

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It’s been over a month since I’ve been in the hospital.  I count that as a good thing.  I’m still very fatigued, short of breath, these nitro patches are giving me headaches and I get fairly dizzy when I stand up from a sitting position but other than that I’m feeling pretty good.  I have all my kids home at least for a little while so that’s making me real happy.

MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE.

Another Visit Part One

13 Saturday Aug 2016

Posted by in Cancer, Photography

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I knew it was only a matter of time before I ended up in the hospital again.  This makes the third time since January.  This time it was a little more serious than all the others.

I went and saw my cardiologist this past Wednesday and it was decided that because my breathing was so bad he would admit me to the hospital for a heart cath.  I was under the impression that the procedure would be done Wednesday afternoon after i was admitted but all they did was blood work. The next morning a heart cath was performed where they found the left artery 75% blocked.  Two stents were installed and I just knew that would help my breathing.  It did not help at all.

After returning to my room I started talking to my cardiologist and he informed me that he had called a pulmonologist in to see me.  A little while later I got carted off for several tests in which one was a breathing test and the other was a sniffing test.  Both of which I failed.  The pulmonologist came in later Thursday evening and basically told me that after seeing the results he had no idea what was causing my difficulties.  All he could tell me was that my diaphragm wasn’t working.

Friday morning I was carted off again for a CAT scan of my lungs.  After returning to my room I was told that I would have a procedure known as a Thoracentesis,  a procedure to remove fluid around my lungs.  At 2pm they removed 2 liters of fluid off my right lung.  I was told that the procedure wouldn’t be painful.  They lied.  I sort of reminded me of my bone marrow biopsy.  Maybe it was the way they did it but it was in the top ten as far as pain.

I never got to comfortable last night because of the pain but as long as I stayed still it didn’t bother me too bad.  I had to hook up my CPap tonight and the pain was still there.  I’ll be taking some pain meds tonight before going to bed.

My daily medicine count has increased by five.  That makes 17 pills that I have to take on a daily basis.  As long as they keep me alive and my insurance holds up I’ll keep taking them.

Time to Vent

03 Friday Jun 2016

Posted by in Cancer, Leukemia, Photography

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November 2015 I caught the flu and spent 5 days at home.  December 2015 had kidney stones in which I spent another week at home.  Last week of December, 1st week in January 2016 I spent 4 days in the hospital with some sort of chest infection in which I was off a total of 2 weeks off from work.  With all that time off from November 2015 to the first week in January I used all of my vacation time.  From January to now trying my best to build my time back up which meant for every hour I spent at the doctor’s office I had to spend an hour working overtime without pay to make up for the time lost. I have vacation planned for week after next and I’m not sure if I’m going to be able to take off because someone came into work sick with the flu and I caught it.

I had finally built my time back up to 77 hours but I got sick with the flu and pneumonia and had to spend a week in the hospital and another week at home recuperating. This was very costly not only money wise but I missed some things that I’ll never get back.

While at the doctor’s office Monday a week ago, I passed out because my O2 levels were so low that  I had to be carted off to the hospital via ambulance.  That within itself is quite costly.  Two weeks of vacation time gone, my vacation to Disney is in jeopardy because I won’t have the time to take off and the most costly of all was the fact that I was not able to go to my daughter’s graduation from high school.

I have the most inconsiderate co workers that anyone can have.  They always come to work sick and in most cases, I end up catching whatever they have.  They don’t care either.  All they want to do is brag about how much time they’ve got accumulated.  This is twice in six months that I’ve used up all my vacation time being sick and I’m so mad right now that I could take these guys and beat their face in with my fist.

Thankfully my wife and kids have not gotten sick from me being sick.  While I was in the hospital they took all the necessary precautions by wearing a mask and disposable hospital gowns.  I’m better now but easily get out of breath when doing the least little thing.  I’m scheduled to go back to work on Monday.

Rant over.

The above picture was taken after the graduation was over by my son.  I think he’s got a hidden talent in photography.  He did an awesome job.