Living with a Hiatal Hernia … By: Kathy D, Contributing Author

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It Was My Turn . . .

“See you when I get back,” I smiled and waved at my husband and mother-in-law as I walked through the door for the procedure. We all had on our game faces, although I was pretending not to be nervous, I failed miserably.

The procedure, surprisingly, wasn’t uncomfortable and didn’t seem to take too long. I don’t remember feeling a thing. After they wheeled me back to the recovery room, the nurse placed a weight on my incision area to keep pressure on it.

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“Ok,” I’m thinking, “I’m laying here in a hospital bed, with a heavy weight on an incision, on an empty stomach. How much more am I going to have to take? ” Hospital visits tend to make some people irritable. I am normally in control of emotions but I was beginning to understand their rationale.

After about an hour, an orderly, or somebody, came in with some juice for me to drink and a light snack to munch on while I continued to wait for my results from the testing.

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Crunch time (so to speak)

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As I sat up in the bed eating every drop, the doctor came in and said, “We have the results and you’re fine in that area, we’re giving you a clean bill of health. You don’t have any blockages.”

Relief flooded through me. Yes! Thank you God!

Feelings of anxiety returned within a half hour.  Even with the news of no blockage, to lift my spirits, I was still having major chest pains before I arrived home that day. I had to find out what was causing them.

After scheduling the earliest appointment I could get, a week later I went to see my regular doctor. I didn’t sit down because it hurt too much to get back up. I said, “We have to find out what’s going on with me. I can’t take much more of this.”

He could tell right away something was wrong and scheduled me immediately for more x-rays. Off to the hospital I went.

<    :     >

<    :    >

The Prognosis

When Doc came into the waiting room, he was smiling. “Further testing has confirmed my suspicions, you have what is called a “Hiatal” hernia. “A what?” I asked.

Doc began to explain. Now this is not his exact explanation, but this is the gist of what he said.

“A Hiatal hernia is an anatomical abnormality, where part of your stomach protrudes through the diaphragm and up into your chest. Sometimes this condition causes acid reflux.”

I had heard of acid reflux.

“You see,” he continued, “your esophagus sits on top of your diaphragm. A Hiatal hernia is located between your esophagus and your diaphragm.

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Because of this, it causes acid to back up into the esophagus. Therefore you experience pain in the upper abdomen.

The pain can be in the form of heartburn, chest pain, regurgitation or nausea, some of the symptoms you were having.”

I’m a woman who likes to get to the point, so I said, “Ok, my question is, now that we know what’s causing the pain, how do we fix it?”

“We have to have an endoscopy done to see if there is any damage to your esophagus,” Doc went on to explain, “the acid could erode your stomach lining and cause cancer.”

“Cancer?”

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See Pt. 3 “For What?”

See Pt. 5 The “C” Word?!

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Living with a Hiatal Hernia … By: Kathy D, Contributing Author

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I‘m Thinking, “For what?”

Still not knowing what was going on, I was beginning to become frightened. Scared to death is more like it.

My nature was, and still is sometimes, to keep things bottled up. As I sat patiently in the waiting room with my husband and mother-in-law, they didn’t have a clue.

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I just prayed everything was going to be alright.

After what seemed like hours, they finally called me back into the office.  “Here it comes.”

The cardiologist said, “Because of the results of your tests, and your family history, we’re going to schedule a procedure next week.”

“What kind of procedure?” I asked.

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“We’re going to have to insert an angiography catheter to detect if there is blockage in your blood vessels.

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“OMG!” I’m thinking, “this is getting serious.”

So What’s Next?

On the day of the procedure I was told to arrive at the hospital by 7 a.m., with an empty stomach.

They had me sit in the cardiac outpatient wing, where I waited “patiently, so to speak” to be examined. When my name was called, I was escorted to the bed and given a hospital gown to put on.

The same nurse from before, the one who had snatched me off the treadmill, said, “We’re going to place you under a local anesthesia, “hon,” do you want to watch the monitors during the testing?”

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My husband, who has a notoriously weak stomach, looked at me and laughed out loud saying, “She don’t know who she’s talking to,” because he knew. He is always teasing me about how I like to watch medical procedures on television, (while he leaves the room) so he knew the answer was a definite, “yes.”

Once the nurse got me hooked up to an IV, the waiting began. I was allowed to sit up and watch TV while waiting for my turn in the operating room.

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Now I understand why they call it the “waiting” room. My wait went on for seven hours due to the fact that a few people who were having procedures had heart attacks, while on the table, during their operations. Those were emergencies. Mine was not that serious.

Believe me, listening to all the commotion outside my room did not set well. The stress started to creep in. I don’t know if stress causes hunger but boy, let me tell you, I was ready to eat and even worse, I hadn’t been able to drink anything. Way off my routine.

Finally in the late afternoon, my stomach was in the midst of an exceptionally loud  growl when the nurse came to the door and said, “Time to go “hon.”

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See Pt. 2 Caught Off Guard

See Pt. 4 Time to Go “Hon”

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Living with a Hiatal Hernia … By: Kathy D, Contributing Author

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The Stress Caught Me Off Guard

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When the pain hit, it hit hard.

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I felt like I was about to leave this place. I got in touch with my doctor to set up an appointment for a check-up, to determine why I was in such pain.

He performed an EKG on the spot, right there in his office, but could find no indication of a problem.

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It figures. Some times when you go to the doctor your symptoms seem to stay at home, waiting for your return.

Doc prescribed a medication for me to take in case of more pain, until I could see a cardiologist that he was going to refer me to.

In March, I walked into the cardiologist’s office not knowing what to expect. He had set me up with an echo and stress test that took pretty much all day.

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The Morning Session:

Was spent on a machine that took pictures of my chest and heart area. A solution of Dye was injected to highlight the areas of interest. This was the easy part.

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Just lay there and listen to the sounds and movements of the machine.

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Then came the afternoon and the Treadmill:

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It began as an easy, slow paced walk with gradual buildup. I thought, “ piece of cake,” because I loved to walk. After all I walked the hills of my neighborhood everyday for exercise. “This is what I do!”

Things were going smoothly. I was walking, had a good rhythm, not much pain, in control, I thought.

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“Get her off of there!” Someone shouted.

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The nurse rushed over, hurriedly turned off the treadmill and quickly unhooked me. She told me to, “Sit down right here,” as she pointed to the closest chair, “put your head between your knees, relax and breathe deeply.”

I’m thinking, “relax?” I was shaking. I looked up at her and asked several times, “What’s wrong?”

“It’s ok “hon,” she repeated, “just put your head between your knees, relax and breathe deeply, you’ll be ok.”

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I was frustrated. I knew that I’d be ok. She didn’t have to tell me that. I didn’t feel any differently as I sat there, I wasn’t sick, just a little chest pain, nothing intense. But as it turns out, the heart monitor’s read-out offered a different conclusion.

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After my vitals returned to normal, doc said, “I need you to go out and have a seat in the waiting room, I’m going to set you up with another specialist.”

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See Pt. 1: Living with a Hiatal Hernia and Acid Reflux

See Pt. 3: I‘m thinking, “For what?”

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Hey, how’s it going?

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Watched any TV lately?

Heck, I used to be one of those people who proudly bragged to anyone who would listen; “I don’t watch TV.”

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After one such announcement I was stunned when this woman said to me, “Hmmph, so you one of them smug bastards who too gooooood to watch tv.”

“Huh?” I questioned, caught off guard, “Well, um, yeah.”

Had a ton of reasons not to watch, all patterned to fit the situation of the moment. “I’m too busy.” “It’s mind-numbing drivel.” “Has nothing to do with my ‘getting ahead.’” “Personally . . . (pause for effect, while simultaneously rubbing chin) . . . I pursue more intellectual pursuits, per se.”

Your turn to say, “Huh?”

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Well, that was then

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Television has come a long way since she pounced. We now have multiple choices and thousand inch screens that bathe us in whatever information we choose to wallow in.

Ever notice that even though we have 500 channels to choose from, we still watch the same 5 or 6 channels religiously? Hmmm.

And even though I’ve beaten around the proverbial bush, this is a health related article.

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Today’s article is about, The Doctor Oz Show.

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My mom brought up yet again how I’ve shared my stuff with others most of my life, beginning with when I traded my new snow boots to Melvin Lee. I was in grammar school, probably third grade.

It was late 50’s. Mid-winter, lower Michigan, 3 feet of snow.

He only had one left boot and a sob-story. I bought into it. We traded for my two new boots, and for some reason I assumed mom would just run out and buy me another pair.

Imagine my surprise when I proudly announced, while displaying the lone left boot, “Melvin only had one boot, so I traded him for mine.”

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“You did What!” she said, as I witnessed a 360º neck spin way before .

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Who knew moms didn’t just “run out” and re-spend money on things they’d already bought. To his credit, Melvin brought me another left boot after mom called his mom. Seems he lost mine too.

Fast forward (tv term), fifty-plus years later, and I still have the trait. I love to share, and here’s my latest contribution to the cause.

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Tip:

Presbyopia = older eyes. (I have two of those) That’s not the original tip, but Doctor Oz just taught it, and I caught it.

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The Dr. Oz show comes on in my area at 11pm every weeknight. I’m on the East Coast.

If you’re at all concerned about your health, or know anyone who may need the information, (we all do) you really should take an hour and watch his show. Only one challenge. It can become addicting.

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Information: The Drug of Choice

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The Dr. Oz show is informative to a fault and entertaining to . . . boot. His laid back manner of teaching us about our health is great. That’s the only way I can say it. I learn something every night I watch his show.

If you are not watching Dr. Oz, you are doing yourself a disservice. But hey, if you do watch it and decide it’s not for you I’ll bet you know someone who watches TV; someone who needs the information.

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Couch Potatoes Untie! er . . . Unite!

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So let’s all share. Give someone a gift of health. Watching the Dr. Oz show is like being in an accelerated health and wellness class. You learn, you laugh, you get healthier, just by watching tv.

How easy is that?

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Living with a Hiatal Hernia … By: Kathy D, Contributing Author

April 07, 2010©

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Hi. My name is Kathy D, and I am a woman who believes in controlling those things we can control. The rest, I try to leave up to God.

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The Beginning:

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The year was 2003. I was pretty active so I always had a few pains here and there. Nothing to concern myself with. Just deal with it.

After about a week of dealing with it, I realized the constant pain in my chest was not going away, as I had assumed it would. Not only was it not going away, it was becoming more severe.

The pain was lodged dead center, in my upper abdomen. For some odd reason I just kept assuming it would go away. Sometimes we self diagnose. And we are wrong.

I had gone through so much in such a short time from June 2002 through early 2003. I’d lost my father in late June and had to travel across country to attend his funeral. After which I had to help settle family business with my mom and brother.

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Stress is Raising its Head. But I can Handle It

With only a week to spare, after my return home, we had to pack and load a moving van to transport our household belongings to another state. We had sold our house right before my dad’s unexpected death.

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My stressful journey continued with the hassles of  moving to a new state,

building a new home, living with in-laws, and making sure my mom got settled into her new home. You see, in the midst of being in control of things, I had convinced mom to move from her home state to be near my brother and I.

Generally, I was a little fatigued, but didn’t pay it much attention. Never for a moment did I believe these added stresses could cause health problems, but evidently I had a lot to learn.

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My Symptoms

One day in early 2003, I began to have serious chest pains. My first thought was I was having heart problems, since heart disease ran in the family, and my father had passed from heart complications.

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See Part 2: The Stress Caught Me Off Guard

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I’m a Type 2 Diabetic: by Reginald D. Brown – Contributing Author

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Hello To my Baby Boomer friends,

My name is Reginald D. Brown.  I have been a type 2 diabetic since 1995 and I’d like to share my story with you about how I became a diabetic.

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The Beginning

In the Spring of 1995, I weighed 217 pounds.  I was 10 pounds overweight, so I decided to go on an exercise program to lose weight.

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For a full month, I lifted weights and jogged 3 times a week.  During this time, I began to lose weight rapidly.  I went down from 217 pounds to 181 pounds.  However, I started having issues with my health.

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Symptoms:

• I was urinating every 45 to 60 minutes.
• My vision started getting blurry.
• My feet and legs would cramp at night.
• I also started seeing blood in my stool.
• I had an awful thirst
• I craved anything sweet like orange juice, pineapple juice, and cranberry juice.
• I would drink up to a quart of juice at a time and still be thirsty.

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Something’s Not Right

I thought the weight loss was from my working out.  Finally I woke up from my denial and went to the doctor on Good Friday.  I took blood tests and it was revealed that my blood sugar level was over 400 mg.

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If I hadn’t gone in that Friday, I would have gone into a coma by Monday.  Reality set in.  I was a diabetic.

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My New Reality

The doctor prescribed 3 pills of Glyburide at 5 mg’s a day.  I did this for a 30 day period and then my blood sugar leveled off to an average 120 mg a day.  Then the doctor prescribed I only take one pill day and advised me that diabetes was a progressive disease and that I had to monitor my blood level every day.

Denial and Relapse

Since I was feeling well, I thought the one pill a day was all I needed.  So, I went back into denial with bad eating habits and not exercising like I should.  I didn’t even use the blood sugar monitor the doctor provided me.

Within 2 weeks, I started having the same symptoms as before.  I tested my blood sugar and was shocked when the glucose monitor read 258 mg.

Consequences

I went back to the doctor. He chastised me for not following instructions as he wrote a prescription for 3 pills of Gylburide at 5 mg’s a day.  I promised to be proactive in my diabetes care and not re-active when I was ill. Within a day or so, my blood sugar levels were at an acceptable average of 120 mg.

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Hint: Doctors want to see an average blood sugar level of between 90 and 120 mg. I still had a bit to go, so I tried the following tip:

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Here’s a tip for my Type 2 diabetic friends:

Don’t eat White Bread, Rice or Potatoes for One Week . . .

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If you follow that tip, along with your medical professional’s advice, you should lose a few pounds and your blood sugar levels should go down to manageable levels.

Try it  and email me with your results.

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For Me Contracting Diabetes was Inevitable

All the ingredients were there: Working out and exercising actually contributed to accelerating my diabetes to becoming full-blown;  On my Father’s side of the family, he had two sisters who were type 2 diabetics; I also had set into a sedentary lifestyle and was eating everything in sight.

So, it was inevitable that I would become a diabetic.

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In Conclusion

Diabetes is not a death sentence.  I have learned the hard way that if we are pro-active we can control the disease. It can be controlled through diet, exercise and oral medication. However, it is up to us. We diabetics must make an effort to change our life’s habits in order to live a healthy, full life.

Thanks for reading and you can expect many more articles about controlling diabetes.

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Reginald D. Brown

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Diabetes and Me: by Kenneth Stokes – Contributing Author

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Saturday 01/09/2010

HI …..For three solid hours that’s all the meter said: HI.

I lay there in the hospital bed, my eyes and ears locked on a heart monitor over my head. It was making noises that sounded like someone was dying.

I followed the route of those colored cables coming out of that monitor making their way back to my chest. Looking at my right hand, there was an IV taped to it, dripping a solution that made my whole arm cold and uncomfortable.

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Then I noticed my wife sitting quietly at the foot of the bed, just staring at me. Any onlooker would have no clue that my beautiful wife was also a medical professional.

She wouldn’t dare say anything that hinted she was fearful of my forthcoming diagnosis, but with what I saw in her eyes . . . she didn’t have to say a word.

Every so often a nurse would come in with another syringe full of  liquid, that she would add to the dripping IV; fifteen minutes later she’d stick my index finger to check my blood sugar level again. After a series of these systematic tasks, the nurse said “Okay, we finally have a number….669.”

I didn’t know exactly what that meant, but any number seemed better than HI.  I glanced at my wife. The look on her face quickly turned my momentary relief into immediate concern. Now all I wanted, and needed to understand was:

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WHAT IS NORMAL ?

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Monday 01/11/2010

Is this really happening? Two days ago I was lying in the emergency room feeling like I was dying; now I’m sitting in my doctor’s office in a follow up appointment.

One of my worst fears has come true, now it’s personal … I have DIABETES !

My mind is racing. Wait a minute; how can I stop this nightmare?  As my mind continued to spin a tremendous amount of thoughts and fears at an unbelievable rate of speed, I didn’t even hear the Doc come into the room.

“Here, Mr. Stokes, take this.”  I focused and she was standing there with this needle in her hand asking me to take it.  What for? I thought.  She said again, “Mr. Stokes take this and I’ll show you how to use it.”

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My immediate, totally disrespectful reaction was, “That is not gonna happen!”

After she professionally presented me with countless pamphlets of information and statistics, she said something that changed my life forever!

“You can control this disease and live a very healthy life if you take charge now and stick to a plan.” She was now speaking my language:

What I realized was my Final Number would NOT be . . . 669! I would:

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TAKE CHARGE AND BE IN CONTROL of DIABETES

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I recognized immediately that the very first demon to be defeated, right then and there, would be False Evidence Appearing Real. FEAR . . . “was the first three days, of the rest of my life.”

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As I face my FEAR I will share more of my story; hopefully it will assist you through a similar situation or maybe even help you avoid it all together. Thanks for reading.

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Kenneth Stokes, Contributing Author

SenGraph@live.com

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Part 2: I’ve got a Million Excuses

My friend’s co-worker, and many like him, will use every excuse in the book to remain inactive which will lead inevitably to him becoming reactive.

Once the disease takes over, it is in control. That’s when most people go into survival mode and come around to doing what is right. Often, too late. Then the friend, family member or co-worker is left wondering how they could have done more, or worse, feeling guilty like it is their fault.

Here are a few statements that I have been told personally when I made suggestions.

• “Butt-out man, this is my problem, I’ll handle it.” A typical “man” comment. We’re always ready to ”fix” something.
• “I don’t believe in taking medicine.”
• “I can’t afford the medicine.”
• “It’s too far to the doctor’s office.”
• “The doctor’s just trying to get all my money.”
• “I hate needles.”
• “Using needles like that will leave tracks and make me look like a junkie.”

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Really, I was told that last one by a person with type 2 diabetes who refused to take insulin.

But with real friends, family and co-workers, they’re in this with us, step for step.

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Everybody cares. “They don’t accept excuses when it comes to our health. They want us around to help them enjoy this wonderful life.”

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Guess what I hear most often though, when I suggest seeing a specialist? And this one, I think, is supposed to shut me up. “I’ve got faith that God is gonna work it out, and send me the answer”

My first thought and comment is always the same. “You’re right, but maybe God sent you me, with my suggestion; the medicine that you won’t take, or the answer that you won’t listen to.”

So to wrap this article up, if there is a disease that we are dealing with personally, let’s not forget those around us who, although not ill, are just as involved.

Let’s honor our friends, family and even co-workers the benefit of listening to their suggestions and not shut them out.

After-all, they’re just saying . . . !!!

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See Part 1 How it Affects Our Loved Ones

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African Americans, Baby Boomers and Diabetes

Hey, how’s it going? Thanks for stopping by.

Has a good friend, family member or co-worker shut you out when they became desperately ill?

Today’s article will focus on a different aspect of diabetes, or any disease for that matter that we may contract. The affect on friends, family and loved ones.

When we are stricken with a serious disease it is natural to become inwardly focused, but what we sometimes fail to understand is, our illness, it affects everyone close to us. They are taking it as hard as we are in some cases.

We may crave solitude while trying to figure it out, thinking we are in it alone, but will it be at the expense of those who care for us?

Friends, family members and co-workers who want to help or understand, often don’t know how to deal with what we are going through.

Yeah, I know, sometimes we just want someone to listen and not give advice. But these people who have our back regardless of circumstances, can carry a heavy mental (and possibly physical) load when it comes to our well-being. They are trying to help.

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Case in point. A good friend mentioned to me this morning his concern for his friend and co-worker who has diabetes.

His co-worker’s condition seems to be worsening, but he is either in denial, or is unwilling to be pro-active in battling the disease.

My buddy last week made a good, healthful suggestion. He was just trying to help without being overbearing. He’s like that.

As they perused the menu he said, “Instead of fried chicken, butter soaked mashed potatoes with gravy and a soda for lunch, bro, let’s go get a salad.”

His suggestion was shot down. “Man, that bird-food ‘ain’t gonna fill me up.’”

And therein lies the challenges.

The wrong foods “‘ain’t gonna fill me up” with the right nutrition. “A minute on the lips, a lifetime on the hips, and other places.” “What’s good to you, ain’t necessarily good for you.” “An apple a day keeps the doctor at bay, but a donut a day will supplement his pay.”

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See Part 2: I’ve got a Million Excuses

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Today I signed Oprah’s “No Phone Zone” pledge:

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And The Verdict Is?

I no longer have conflict. I’ve decided while writing this article that I will go back to Oprah.Com right now, and (Upgrade) to number 3.

“I will no longer make or take any calls and I won’t send or receive any texts, while driving.” Done!

So to all of my friends, family and others who will call or text while I’m driving . . . I say, “Leave a message at the sound of the beep and I will get back to you . . . I Promise . . . after I stop driving.”

Now I have a new dilemma. Since I care for you, my friends and family, and you all read my articles, here is my question.

Should I refuse to talk at length with you, if you are on a cell phone and driving, maybe transporting a loved one?

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“Yeah, I said it! And that’s what I thought you’d say. You know my feelings. Friends Let Friends Drive Safely. You need to be concentrating on driving. We’ll talk. When we’re not driving.

“Sooooo, What Are You Waiting For?”

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Go here to sign up for the No Phone Zone Pledge today. The life you save may be yours, or mine.

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Driving is serious business and it deserves our full attention. I read that our reaction time is 38% slower when we are using cellphones while driving.

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Hands-free or speaker, makes no difference. We’re still distracted and we’re still slow. Can we afford to take the chance that we won’t react in time?

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Below is the No Phone Zone Pledge. Go ahead, pick one. Then go to Oprah.Com . . . and roll with it.

:

No Phone Zone Pledge

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• I pledge to make my car a No Phone Zone.

• Beginning right now,  I will do my part to help put an end to distracted driving by pledging the safest driving behavior I can commit to:
  

• I will not text while I am driving.

• I will not text while driving, and will use only hands-free calling if I need to speak on the phone while I am driving.

• I will not text or use my phone while I am driving. If I need to use my phone, I will pull over to the side of the road.

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See No Phone Zone Pledge Series
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