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After five days in the hospital and one whole day in the ER I finally was able to come home Thursday afternoon. You really take for granted the quiet of your own home; the whisper of air emanating from the furnace vent, the subtle hum of ceiling fans, and just those ghostly whooshes of the sounds a house makes when it’s settling into itself. Compare that the beep boxes hanging next to your bed when your IV is empty, the constant blip of the heart and blood pressure monitor, the voices of nurses and visitors as they pass your room while you lie in a bed you can’t leave unless a nurse comes in to turn the alarm off so you can get up and pee into the toilet, as opposed to a plastic jug under the covers.

Then there’s the daily pokes, prods, questions about pain or dizziness, BP cuff feeling like it was going to rip my arm off, waiting on docs to come visit, and the parade of RNs and Patient Care Techs that would drop in for vitals or ask if I wanted to take a shower. I have all the respect in the world for these healthcare workers, and they took damn good care of me during my time at Parkview Regional Medical Center. Their jobs aren’t easy, and I feel like I was a relatively content and affable patient for them. But I know that’s not always the case, as I’ve heard some horror stories over the years.

But still, being home with the freedom to move around, put on a record, read a book, cook a meal for my wife and I again, and to cuddle with the big behemoth that is our Celeste on the couch is much preferred over being locked in a bed 24/7 and wondering if maybe today would be the day I get to go home.

I’ve acclimated to my morning weigh-ins, BP/heart rate checks, and living a low-sodium lifestyle. Friday morning and Saturday morning my BP has been almost the same. I’m not gonna be in the 120/80 range for a long time. These meds need to rewire my body after a period of Speed Racer chugging that had every right to take me out. Fortunately, my heart was bound and determined to keep me running. Even up to the minute I drowned in my own fluids. So 153/102 is a solid replacement over the sky highs I entered the ER with last week. It’s been dropping down to the low 140s over mid 90s, and I’m happy with that. I feel like someone replaced my internal V8 engine with a 4-cylinder. Going from an American-made black top burning chugger to a smooth, quiet Japanese-made sedan that you don’t hear on the highway. I’m just really fucking mellow now.

I need to get some blood drawn this morning for my first visit with the Cardiologist on Tuesday. Not sure what to expect on that visit, but I’m ready for it. I haven’t had docs looking out for me in a long time, and that’s completely 100% my fault. I played the odds for years with little to no consequences when it came to my health. But in the end the house always wins, and I finally rolled snake eyes.

Continuing to lose weight as well. I’m not really sure what my actual weight was minus all the fluid retention, but a couple months ago I was hovering between 248 and 252 lbs. Last Friday I was 272 lbs. This morning I weighed 212. 60 lb weight loss in a week and a day. I know that over the last couple months I wasn’t eating much at all so I feel I lost some weight, yet still kept bloating up like a summertime water balloon. My gut and sides had grown to a size that on that last morning before I went to the ER scared me in a way I’ve never been scared. It was like my face was superimposed on some extremely large and unhealthy alcoholic. If I never see that again it would still be too soon.

I haven’t been 212 lbs since probably high school. Of course I’ve wanted to trim back down to 200 lbs for years, but never thought I’d get there. Especially this way. But I’m bound and determined to keep it off by sticking to a healthy food regiment. I thought I was a healthy eater before, as I cook 95% of the time. I rarely eat out. But even home cooked meals have hidden sodium. I wanted to have a snack last night after dinner of cantaloupe, strawberries, and cottage cheese. I looked at the sodium count in cottage cheese…480mg per serving which is 1/2 cup. That’s 21% of your daily value of sodium. Damn. So I stuck with just the fruit, and it was fine.

Another thing I’m looking forward to is getting back to my exercise regiment. Nothing crazy. I’m not going to start running. Fixing my weight and diet still doesn’t fix 52-year old joints, knees, feet, and hips. But 4-mile daily walks are on the agenda. Maybe even some light weight training as well. I’ve got some old iron dumb bells my dad gave me, as well as a set of resistance bands. I’ve got the tools, I just need to build my stamina back up after about 3 months of inactivity. I never realized just how screwed up my body was. Damn.

I’ve learned a lesson that many of you have already learned. Or maybe a lesson you never had to learn, as you regularly hit the doc already. While it looks like I was just a moron and didn’t care, I have to say my avoidance of the regular doc visit was more fear than anything else. I never had a problem going to the doctor in my 20s and 30s. I was sick A LOT as a kid, so seeing the doc was a pretty normal part of my life. And in my 20s I still had a lot of problems with getting Bronchitis on the regular, so going to see my doc was comforting. I also had serious ear issues when I was really young and clear up to probably 11-years old. I think I had at least 6 ear surgeries, so appointments were part of my life. And I got allergy shots from like 4-years old to my senior year of high school. I was comfortable at the doctor.

But at some point the wiring changed in my head. I think maybe it was dealing with so many health issues with my daughter. It’s one thing to be sick yourself, but dealing with health crisis when it comes to your child is something completely different. I saw so many asthma attacks and head/chest colds with her and all the worry that came with it that it did something to me. The comfort of a doctor office became a triggering mechanism. I didn’t want to go to a doctor anymore, as it represented fear and bad news to me. So if I avoided a doc for myself then I’d never hear that something was wrong. Ridiculous, I know. But I never said I was a genius.

I’m very happy, relieved, and thankful to be out of the other end of that very dark tunnel. There’s still lots of work on my end. Pills, diet restrictions, and controlling the anxiety I’ve felt for so long about, not just life in general, but doctors. That anxiety has waned immensely in that last week. I felt like I was where I needed to be last week, and I’m still feeling that now. I don’t panic looking at a blood pressure cuff like I did before. I may still be hesitant, but I want to know what the hell is going on inside of me. I don’t want to avoid or hide from it anymore.

I got that rare second chance, and I don’t plan on messing that up.