What the H Happened?

Sometime in March, I woke up lashed to a hospital bed. I didn't recall going to the hospital nor did I recall being rushed to surgery. All I saw was Vietnamese-looking nurses and wondered if I had been captured by the Vietnamese... though I never went to Vietnam. Too many war movies I suppose.

I didn't feel like I had been operated on. I guess the anesthetics they injected inside me were still working. I was informed that I tried to pull out my breathing tube and had torn my vocal cords. I must have tried to pull out one of the blood tubes from my neck also. In fact, I think I remember doing it, though it is a brief memory. I know I at least touched it. I finally gained enough

My hospital stay was brief compared to the last CABG. Although I felt great compared to the first one, they did let me out of the hospital too early. They ignored the pneumonia that I had in my left lung which caused me to have to go back into the hospital a couple more times.

My chest cavity was raw inside where they tried to wash away all of the blood that had been spewing from that artery that detached. They told my mom that the heart was so covered with dried blood that they didn't know how it was still beating. It caused me extreme pain but they didn't want to give me pain medication that would actually work. I did finally get them to double my hydrocodone and that helped somewhat... kind of like better than nothing.

Although I feel better than last time, I haven't really felt well enough to write. I just didn't have the energy... especially with this COPD which they're blaming on smoking but is more likely from the asbestos that was floating in the air when they tore it down from the unit. In fact, the operators who smoked lived longer than the people who didn't as a rule. I suspect the tar probably decreased the amount of agitation from the asbestos. The company doesn't want anything like that to be exposed, though so they'll probably never look into it. Besides, I didn't smoke that much. Just enough to protect my lungs if that really was the case. I did sometimes smoke a pack a day but I also had years when I quit. Now I'm smoking three to nine puffs a day... sometimes up to one cigarette a day if it's really a stressful day. Still, the doctors want me to quit completely.

There really isn't much left that they can remove without causing me extreme medical problems, so hopefully they don't TRY to remove anything else. I've really been wanting to blog something... ANYTHING, but today is the first day I was able to sit here and type... mainly because of the breathing problems I believe. I was having some chest pain too, but that seems to be absent today. Hopefully it will stay absent and I can blog regularly again.

I've been watching the news and there doesn't seem to be much of value to report on. Well, maybe of value but I've decided that there's nothing much we can do peacefully and I'm too broken down to do anything other than yell and shake my fist. Of course, that would be seen as a terrorist action and I'd be hauled down to Gitmo for the rest of my life... if I survived the flight or boat ride over there.  My only hope in life now is to meet +Katy Anders, but I hope not under those circumstances.

Love, Hope, Peace, and Christ is With Us All,

Cal Jennings aka Space Eagle aka Cal-el