I Fall Asleep Counting My Blessings
I’ve never had an MRI. It’s not that I’ve never had need of one, but I had this defibrillator planted in my chest that kind of got in the way. Hospitals get kind of cautious about having patients getting their heart and the defibrillator ripped out of their chest, spraying blood and body matter all over the interior of a multi-million dollar piece of equipment. It’s also considered to be counter to the overall treatment plan.
For instance, the nerve issue I’ve been whining about, that’s something that would be easier to diagnose and treat if I had an MRI so the docs could get a cleaner view of the nerves and how they fit with my spine. They could also look more closely at another nerve cluster in my chest, called the brachial complex. They’ve found some scar tissue there, potentially also impinging on the nerves that control the muscles and the nerves in my arm and hand. They found the scar tissue and some calcification surrounding that may be part of the problem, but they can’t get a clear enough picture.
Well, you’re asking yourselves, what the hell does this have to do with a heart transplant. Here’s what it has to do with my heart transplant. First, they take out the arteries, which is where they put a couple dozen stents. Then they take out the heart, which among its other undesirable qualities has three metal leads in it, running to the offending defibrillator. After that, before they put in my new pump and hoses, they have to pull the defibrillator, that being the easiest way to remove the leads from my body. I mean, that only makes sense, right? The new heart shouldn’t need the defibrillator. The new vessels are nice and clean, no need for stents. I’m golden for the first time since March 3d, 2003.
The last thing I did as part of my pre-MRI due diligence was to check with my transplant team to make sure my chest is healed enough to get the MRI. There are staples holding my sternum together. They are mostly non-ferrous, which means they don't have enough metal to rip my chest open when that monster magnet starts spinning, but they have enough metal in them that the magnet does create some pull. The problem I needed to have cleared by the transplant docs was that my sternum is healed enough that the pulling on the staples won’t cause my sternum to rip open.
The transplant was miracle enough; it gave me new life. But as I found out yesterday it also carried a hidden blessing: I can actually get the MRI I need to help determine what is causing the problem with my arm and hand. It’s a Festivus miracle. Bring on the Feats of Strength!!
This was a short post, so I’m going to keep my appeal short as well. The transplant, the travel, the drugs, and now the nerve problems have pretty much bled me dry. My savings are gone. I’m fighting to stop living on a negative cash flow basis. I need help. Here is the link to my GoFundMe campaign. If you can spare it, I guarantee any donations will be put to good use getting me back on my feet and getting my new heart in tune.
