Edition #40
My Health Results: Not Good…
Yesterday has been quite an emotional day for me, which was probably due to a multitude of factors: my long day of travel, being pretty jet lagged from coming back to the North American Eastern Time zone after living in Tangier for 16 weeks, and up to receiving my hospital results, which weren’t good, not good at all. I could have written bad, very bad, but while I’m cynical, I’m nonetheless an optimist… So it couldn’t fit both purposes, I suppose 😉
I was at Dulles Airport in Washington when the not-so-good news came in. I was sitting at the Turkish Airlines lounge waiting for my connecting flight to Roanoke, Virginia, and when I had a clearer understanding of what was truly going on health-wise, it made me want to take a flight to Istanbul for a few days right away, just to process everything, even if I knew it wouldn’t change anything. But it feels like having to deal with any type of bad news appears slightly easier when done in some kind of inspiring environment… Something like “Hey, Alex, sorry you’re dying, but take a look at the incredible majesty of the Hagia Sophia mosque, isn’t it amazing?” type of vibe… It adds some flair and swagger to the dramatic aspect of it all, right?!
After I came back to my senses, thanks to seeing the price for a last-minute ticket to a Middle Eastern country (I might be in very bad physical shape, but I’m not crazy — still), I came to realize that, because I was expecting the worst, the bad results looked like somewhat of a good outcome after all… I know, I know, it’s a classic example of a full-blown denial. But in my case, I would rather say that it’s more about compartmentalization than anything else. And if I’m not going to pretend that I’m in some enlightened motion of “acceptance through let go,” I can affirm that I’m not into any self-pitying fatalism or anything. I’m not. I’m just too pragmatic to feel sorry about myself. It is what it is, and I can’t do much about it all anyway… Except live to the fullest.
I was at Dulles Airport in Washington when the not-so-good news came in. I was sitting at the Turkish Airlines lounge waiting for my connecting flight to Roanoke, Virginia, and when I had a clearer understanding of what was truly going on health-wise, it made me want to take a flight to Istanbul for a few days right away, just to process everything, even if I knew it wouldn’t change anything. But it feels like having to deal with any type of bad news appears slightly easier when done in some kind of inspiring environment… Something like “Hey, Alex, sorry you’re dying, but take a look at the incredible majesty of the Hagia Sophia mosque, isn’t it amazing?” type of vibe… It adds some flair and swagger to the dramatic aspect of it all, right?!
After I came back to my senses, thanks to seeing the price for a last-minute ticket to a Middle Eastern country (I might be in very bad physical shape, but I’m not crazy — still), I came to realize that, because I was expecting the worst, the bad results looked like somewhat of a good outcome after all… I know, I know, it’s a classic example of a full-blown denial. But in my case, I would rather say that it’s more about compartmentalization than anything else. And if I’m not going to pretend that I’m in some enlightened motion of “acceptance through let go,” I can affirm that I’m not into any self-pitying fatalism or anything. I’m not. I’m just too pragmatic to feel sorry about myself. It is what it is, and I can’t do much about it all anyway… Except live to the fullest.
That being said, I don’t want to leave you worried in any way, and, even if I don’t really know how to explain or summarize the full extent of what is currently happening with my health (at least without the risk of getting lost in a plethora of medical terms, which understanding — and their subsequent real implications — somewhat eludes me completely as I’m writing this), it’s highly important for me to honor the affection and benevolence that you have always so vividly expressed towards me by trying to verbalize what’s going on and to give as close an explanation as it’s been explained to me by my specialists.
To begin with, the doctors have noticed that my aorta is dilating at a worrying rate and that the pulmonary artery is narrowing itself with the same level of concern.
They have also noticed that the pulmonary valve graft (the one I received from a donor) is deteriorating alarmingly faster than expected, which is very serious since it could potentially lead to additional invasive surgeries if the situation does not stabilize “naturally”.
Furthermore, based on the episodes of severe dizziness I experienced in Tangier, which seemed to be the result of intense heart palpitations erupting without any logical reason, they observed the appearance of irregular heartbeats, which seemed to be the result of some kind of post-operation arrhythmia, a situation that could lead to fatal cardiac arrest if not properly managed, so I will have to undergo more specific tests by another group of specialists to understand what is really going on and what treatment might be necessary once the correct diagnosis is made. I laughed to myself after hearing that part of the results, as I remembered the string of specialists who all told me, “You’ll see, Alex, you will realize that you never felt better in your life than after your operation. You will run a marathon!” Well, I feel like I am running out of time more than anything else right now (that’s a good wordplay… running a marathon, running out of time… Don’t you think?!)
To begin with, the doctors have noticed that my aorta is dilating at a worrying rate and that the pulmonary artery is narrowing itself with the same level of concern.
They have also noticed that the pulmonary valve graft (the one I received from a donor) is deteriorating alarmingly faster than expected, which is very serious since it could potentially lead to additional invasive surgeries if the situation does not stabilize “naturally”.
Furthermore, based on the episodes of severe dizziness I experienced in Tangier, which seemed to be the result of intense heart palpitations erupting without any logical reason, they observed the appearance of irregular heartbeats, which seemed to be the result of some kind of post-operation arrhythmia, a situation that could lead to fatal cardiac arrest if not properly managed, so I will have to undergo more specific tests by another group of specialists to understand what is really going on and what treatment might be necessary once the correct diagnosis is made. I laughed to myself after hearing that part of the results, as I remembered the string of specialists who all told me, “You’ll see, Alex, you will realize that you never felt better in your life than after your operation. You will run a marathon!” Well, I feel like I am running out of time more than anything else right now (that’s a good wordplay… running a marathon, running out of time… Don’t you think?!)
“And the good news?” you might be wondering… Well, the massive headaches, neck pain, and high-pitched sounds I had are not the result of me slowly dying, nor even a tinnitus problem, but the direct result of an ear infection that took longer to resolve itself due to my body simultaneously fighting on several problematic fronts. It should heal on its own at some point. Great, no one can die from an ear infection! Well, at least, I don’t think so… Can we? I honestly thought that my brain was melting or something. But no, it’s not… Awesome! And I can’t blame my new, weird, and dark sense of humor for that either — that part is all on me! There you go, having a bad ear infection is a “point” in the good news column!
Another positive aspect of my tests came from the fact that I’ve been granted permission to start exercising with a light intensity level, on a treadmill… I know, the combination of terms like “light” and “intensity” doesn’t make much sense to me either, but hey, I’m not a doctor, and neither are you, right? It’s cool nonetheless. Plus, I received the ok to work on my muscle tone by lifting a maximum of 2 to 5 pounds… “Even my iPad weighs more than that, doc!” is what I thought, “Oh wow! 2-pound weight training…Great news!” is what I said.
I was imagining myself during the next summer Olympics, on the field, loudly cheered on and uplifted by the frenzy of the crowd. Close your eyes, you’ll hear it as well. Do it, enjoy the amazement of the situation… The crowd is ecstatic. People are crying. Others are fainting (without the fear of dying if they do). Then the voice of the announcer suddenly resonates through the speaker… The crowd gets even louder. You barely hear the public announcement: “And now, after establishing a new world record, the 2-pound weightlifting gold medalist is, from Canada… ALEX! HENRY! FOSTER!!! Oh, my good Lord… Ladies and gentlemen, we all witnessed history in the making. What an improbable achievement! Again, history was made here today, my friends, and like any major event, we will remember where we were when it happened!”
People in the crowd are jumping around, hugging each other, prompting wars to end, and fair economic justice is established for everyone because of this phenomenal accomplishment. Oh, I’m crying now… No. I’m NOT crying. You can open your eyes now, the magic is gone. It’s truly only lifting between 2 and 5 pounds to start — to start. I might eventually go up to 10 pounds… a dream come true! And I can hear the crowd once more…! Ok ok, I won’t go there again.
More seriously, even though it’s really only 2 to 5 pounds, I was very happy about it, because exercise has always been an important part of my lifestyle before I got sick, and it’s a “present” that I can celebrate thanks to the 10k steps I integrated into my life routine about a year ago. A daily commitment took place around this, and ultimately became an outstanding blessing, one that I could only faithfully invest in thanks to Jeff, Miss Isabel, Ben, Sef, Stephanie, and my manager Jennie, who joined me through that recovery venture, a support so vibrant that it gave life to our walking group called “The Knights of the Lost Steps”. And, as you know me, it has to become something creative, community-based, and seriously engaging. It includes a set of rules to follow and consequences for those who don’t do their daily 10k steps. Funny and real, but that’s for another journal entry or publication, I guess!
Additionally, I can also go back to my usual body weight. The danger of my system not being strong enough to sustain all the side effects from the meds seems to be moderated now… which is nice, because I miss some of my favorite pre-surgery clothing! My faithful and comforting friends gummies, candies, and chips might not be too happy about that part… “I’ll miss you as well, buddies, I’ll always cherish the 2 years we spent together and all the deliciously bad calories you offered me so faithfully. Let’s spend one last evening together, let’s go crazy for old times’ sake before we say goodbye. And I promise you, no matter what I may experience with my new accomplices Broccoli, Cauliflower and Cabbage, I’ll never forget the amazing sweet and savory journey we shared together”. Let’s see how that split goes… And when my clothes fit me again! That’s a 3rd point for the good news column (even if avoiding gummies doesn’t look too good as news!)
Another positive aspect of my tests came from the fact that I’ve been granted permission to start exercising with a light intensity level, on a treadmill… I know, the combination of terms like “light” and “intensity” doesn’t make much sense to me either, but hey, I’m not a doctor, and neither are you, right? It’s cool nonetheless. Plus, I received the ok to work on my muscle tone by lifting a maximum of 2 to 5 pounds… “Even my iPad weighs more than that, doc!” is what I thought, “Oh wow! 2-pound weight training…Great news!” is what I said.
I was imagining myself during the next summer Olympics, on the field, loudly cheered on and uplifted by the frenzy of the crowd. Close your eyes, you’ll hear it as well. Do it, enjoy the amazement of the situation… The crowd is ecstatic. People are crying. Others are fainting (without the fear of dying if they do). Then the voice of the announcer suddenly resonates through the speaker… The crowd gets even louder. You barely hear the public announcement: “And now, after establishing a new world record, the 2-pound weightlifting gold medalist is, from Canada… ALEX! HENRY! FOSTER!!! Oh, my good Lord… Ladies and gentlemen, we all witnessed history in the making. What an improbable achievement! Again, history was made here today, my friends, and like any major event, we will remember where we were when it happened!”
People in the crowd are jumping around, hugging each other, prompting wars to end, and fair economic justice is established for everyone because of this phenomenal accomplishment. Oh, I’m crying now… No. I’m NOT crying. You can open your eyes now, the magic is gone. It’s truly only lifting between 2 and 5 pounds to start — to start. I might eventually go up to 10 pounds… a dream come true! And I can hear the crowd once more…! Ok ok, I won’t go there again.
More seriously, even though it’s really only 2 to 5 pounds, I was very happy about it, because exercise has always been an important part of my lifestyle before I got sick, and it’s a “present” that I can celebrate thanks to the 10k steps I integrated into my life routine about a year ago. A daily commitment took place around this, and ultimately became an outstanding blessing, one that I could only faithfully invest in thanks to Jeff, Miss Isabel, Ben, Sef, Stephanie, and my manager Jennie, who joined me through that recovery venture, a support so vibrant that it gave life to our walking group called “The Knights of the Lost Steps”. And, as you know me, it has to become something creative, community-based, and seriously engaging. It includes a set of rules to follow and consequences for those who don’t do their daily 10k steps. Funny and real, but that’s for another journal entry or publication, I guess!
Additionally, I can also go back to my usual body weight. The danger of my system not being strong enough to sustain all the side effects from the meds seems to be moderated now… which is nice, because I miss some of my favorite pre-surgery clothing! My faithful and comforting friends gummies, candies, and chips might not be too happy about that part… “I’ll miss you as well, buddies, I’ll always cherish the 2 years we spent together and all the deliciously bad calories you offered me so faithfully. Let’s spend one last evening together, let’s go crazy for old times’ sake before we say goodbye. And I promise you, no matter what I may experience with my new accomplices Broccoli, Cauliflower and Cabbage, I’ll never forget the amazing sweet and savory journey we shared together”. Let’s see how that split goes… And when my clothes fit me again! That’s a 3rd point for the good news column (even if avoiding gummies doesn’t look too good as news!)
So I think it sums up most of the results I received. I’m still waiting for my blood test results to determine if my exhaustion is caused by anemia, thyroid issues, mononucleosis, or none of the above. “Here are more pills for you, Alex” is a potential conclusion… There’s always more pills involved at one point or the other.
I’m glad there’s no need for a medication change yet. It took me a whole year to finally find the proper dosage, so I don’t want to go down that road ever again. Trust me, there’s a reason pharmaceutical enterprises offer money for people to test their new products. No need for me to do so for free, I’m already glowing in the dark enough as it is. I’ll pass… At least until I undergo further testing upon my return to Montreal. That conclusion will help me decide the course of action I’ll have to take after…
And the final overview is:
3 points under the category of life-threatening bad news against 3 points for cosmetic not-too-important issues type of news. Oh, and the real horrific outcomes associated with the loss of my friend Gummies. So, we have a tie. It’s not the end of the world, I can even hear Jeff trying to explain that a tie is a good score — for soccer fans. But seriously, how could a tie be a win, I’m not totally sure… Again, I’m not totally into soccer either, so… I’ll take “good”!
That being said, as I shared with you in my previous journal, while I’m being undeniably lucid and most definitely clear-headed about my situation, I am nonetheless very positive and highly enthusiastic about my current second chance at life. In fact, what deeply hurts is knowing that my friends and loved ones are extremely worried about me. I hate that. But like I’m telling them, life is a gift and mine comes with the incredible blessing of being able to commune with countless fabulous people from all over the world. Talk about being blessed!
Why would I be down, uneasy, or apprehensive?! My existence is already beyond purposeful and meaningfully grandiose. I know it may sound pretentious, but I had the utmost benediction to know that I have experienced a totally singular type of life, and it’s the one I have chosen to live. How could I be bitter or even filled with regret? I mean, it’s not even over yet, and I intend to fight for every additional inch of light I can rip from the hands of death itself… I never felt more alive than now.
I’m glad there’s no need for a medication change yet. It took me a whole year to finally find the proper dosage, so I don’t want to go down that road ever again. Trust me, there’s a reason pharmaceutical enterprises offer money for people to test their new products. No need for me to do so for free, I’m already glowing in the dark enough as it is. I’ll pass… At least until I undergo further testing upon my return to Montreal. That conclusion will help me decide the course of action I’ll have to take after…
And the final overview is:
3 points under the category of life-threatening bad news against 3 points for cosmetic not-too-important issues type of news. Oh, and the real horrific outcomes associated with the loss of my friend Gummies. So, we have a tie. It’s not the end of the world, I can even hear Jeff trying to explain that a tie is a good score — for soccer fans. But seriously, how could a tie be a win, I’m not totally sure… Again, I’m not totally into soccer either, so… I’ll take “good”!
That being said, as I shared with you in my previous journal, while I’m being undeniably lucid and most definitely clear-headed about my situation, I am nonetheless very positive and highly enthusiastic about my current second chance at life. In fact, what deeply hurts is knowing that my friends and loved ones are extremely worried about me. I hate that. But like I’m telling them, life is a gift and mine comes with the incredible blessing of being able to commune with countless fabulous people from all over the world. Talk about being blessed!
Why would I be down, uneasy, or apprehensive?! My existence is already beyond purposeful and meaningfully grandiose. I know it may sound pretentious, but I had the utmost benediction to know that I have experienced a totally singular type of life, and it’s the one I have chosen to live. How could I be bitter or even filled with regret? I mean, it’s not even over yet, and I intend to fight for every additional inch of light I can rip from the hands of death itself… I never felt more alive than now.
That’s why I can say that I couldn’t have wished for more. I know it sounds like a final assessment, but it’s not the final one. Let’s say it’s the third quarter report! And I’m at peace. Of course I would have liked different outcomes at times; an extra second to avoid making a wrong decision or an ultimate opportunity to make amends with people I could have disappointed. We all wish we could go back, but I don’t want to risk changing what I presently live, who I presently am, and I won’t stop cultivating the colorful and bright perspective of the merciful cheers I have the chance to embody and share with others every single day, nor will I lose myself in any elusive, depressive darkness…
Time is now… always has been. For me and for all of you. And it has nothing to do with illness or bad luck. There is no right or wrong, only the commitment to go on and to enjoy the magnificence of what we tend to overlook as we let our sorrowful self fade away a little more with every regret or remorse. The best antidote to despair? Living! The best medicine for failure? Being intentional!
We are all a miracle in our own rights and forms. Life is real, no matter how disillusioned we could be or how heartbroken we are. Life is real. Which, again, to me, deserves a celebration. That’s how I decide to see it all, regardless of my personal situation. And after years feeling like I was just existing while being fully healthy, I’m grateful, even if I’m sick, to be entirely engaged in “being”. To “be” in the now.
Thank you again my dear brothers, sisters, friends and loved ones for your messages following my previous journal entry. Your concerns, even if I don’t want to be an additional source of worries in your life, always profoundly touch my heart and soul. I’m doing just fine. I’m in good medical hands. And my main cardiologist is nothing but a phenomenal gift.
On top of that, I have wonderful projects I can’t wait to commune with you. Others are already blooming in my spirit and I’m eagerly disposed to discover more elements awaiting me in the invisible. That’s the choice I make every day, no matter the circumstances.
Take care, my precious friends, and make sure to do if only a tiny little thing to embrace life today!
Much love,
Your brother and friend
Alex
Time is now… always has been. For me and for all of you. And it has nothing to do with illness or bad luck. There is no right or wrong, only the commitment to go on and to enjoy the magnificence of what we tend to overlook as we let our sorrowful self fade away a little more with every regret or remorse. The best antidote to despair? Living! The best medicine for failure? Being intentional!
We are all a miracle in our own rights and forms. Life is real, no matter how disillusioned we could be or how heartbroken we are. Life is real. Which, again, to me, deserves a celebration. That’s how I decide to see it all, regardless of my personal situation. And after years feeling like I was just existing while being fully healthy, I’m grateful, even if I’m sick, to be entirely engaged in “being”. To “be” in the now.
Thank you again my dear brothers, sisters, friends and loved ones for your messages following my previous journal entry. Your concerns, even if I don’t want to be an additional source of worries in your life, always profoundly touch my heart and soul. I’m doing just fine. I’m in good medical hands. And my main cardiologist is nothing but a phenomenal gift.
On top of that, I have wonderful projects I can’t wait to commune with you. Others are already blooming in my spirit and I’m eagerly disposed to discover more elements awaiting me in the invisible. That’s the choice I make every day, no matter the circumstances.
Take care, my precious friends, and make sure to do if only a tiny little thing to embrace life today!
Much love,
Your brother and friend
Alex
PS: I’m (ironically) writing to you knowing that the whole plumbing system has exploded at my Virginian home, flooding and destroying everything in its way. I guess that story is also for another journal entry or publication post.
I’ll let you know how it went. I’m simply too happy at the idea of seeing my pup Leonard right now. He’s a living reminder that my life is indeed beautiful no matter what!!!
Looks like there’s a whole lot of things for me to write about in the near future…! LIFE!!!
I’ll let you know how it went. I’m simply too happy at the idea of seeing my pup Leonard right now. He’s a living reminder that my life is indeed beautiful no matter what!!!
Looks like there’s a whole lot of things for me to write about in the near future…! LIFE!!!
