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03-01-2008, 04:12 PM

Heya, people... it's me.

First, thanks to everyone who's expressed concern. It's always a pleasant surprise to find other people thinking of you when times are going tough. Thank you, everyone.

First, technically, Thursday night, sometime around 6 PM, I "died." But the defibrillator did exactly what it was supposed to do and zapped me; the heart started right back up again. Dr. Singh, my cardiologist, laughed about it in our meeting the next day. Apparently, it's normal routine to stop the heart at the end of the procedure and zap it - but mine did it all by itself. He also asked for my permission in webcasting the procedure and writing a paper on me. Apparently, he thinks he found what's kept me alive the last ten years.

Internally, we all have organs and systems that, at some point in our species history, served a purpose - think of the appendix and gizzard. We've all got them, but they don't really do anything.

One of the things we all have, when we're born, is sort of a "redundant" set of veins/arteries going to the heart. Normally one set will become dominant, the other set will just atrophy and wither, being completely unnecessary. In me, it seems, both sets were operational - poorly operational, but operational nonetheless - and operational in a pretty strange way... one set performed the function of carrying blood to the heart, the other carried blood from the heart. So though my ejection rate - the amount of blood circulating - was only 12%, because that strain was being carried by two different systems, the total stress was exponentially less on the heart. The cardiologist was really excited, because, he said, it showed that if medical science could somehow artificially have that second, redundant system be "re-animated," it could lead to whole new fields of study in heart disease. Say a baby born with major cardiac problems could have that second system activated, instead of atrophying, the life-sustaining potential could be enormous. Of course, I gave him permission; at our March 10 follow-up, he's giving me a DVD of the procedure and a copy of his paper... so if anyone, in the future, ever hears of a Payne-Singh (or some variation thereof) procedure...

The bit with the nurses was wild. At one point, I left my room, dragging my IV behind me, and simply sat at the nurse's station, talking with Security. The nurses involved kept ordering me back to my room, and I told them: When you give me my medication, especially my pain medication, I will. Even though Security was already there, one of the nurses called a cop, who came and tried to get me back to my room; I refused. He said if I didn't follow his instructions, he'd have to arrest me. I told him, "Go on. At least at the jail hospital, I'm sure I'll get my meds." It was then the cop admitted he was a personal friend of one of the nurses, who lived nearby. He was off duty, but she called him at home to come in and "scare" one of her patients.

The man in the room right by the nurse's station heard everything, and called me to his door, where he introduced himself, gave me his home phone number, and volunteered to be a witness if I ever needed one. One of the nurses, seeing us talk, came running, shut his door, locked it, and put a big "QUARANTINE" sign on the outside of his door, claiming he had a "very infectious disease." At that point, even one of the hospital's own security guards said: "There's someone with an airborn infectious disease on a cardiac surgery ward?"

The next morning, when I spoke with the heads of Nursing and Surgery... and the QUARANTINE poster was still on the other patient's door... I was given the very direct impression both nurses were going to be terminated and face license revocation.

So, I've been home, doing well. Today, I got on Gilligan for the first time and went down to the store. Electrically, I had no problems; there was no change in hearbeat I could ascertain... but, when I got home and got off Gilligan, I was feeling a bit nauseous. That, though, is probably from the pain... I intentionally have taken only half the prescribed amount of Percocet I've been given, as I don't like taking narcotics of any kind.

I'm a little beat, and am going back into lurk mode. This was just the fastest, easiest way to notify everyone of the latest.

Oh... and for those who asked: Yes, Bill was furious. One of the nurses called him at home at 1 AM Thursday night/Friday morning and told him: "You better get down here and quiet your faggot lover up." He answered the phone after the message started, so he's got that on tape, which has been given to the hospital. They even called my second point of contact, my sister Karen, in Pennsylvania and asked if I had any mental problems that she knew of. She immediately called me back on my cell.

And the Director of Nursing noted the time they claimed to have given me my medications, according to their own chart, I was still in surgery.

It was, truly, bizarre.

03-01-2008, 04:12 PM	#8
Eric Payne Guest Posts: n/a	Heya, people... it's me. First, thanks to everyone who's expressed concern. It's always a pleasant surprise to find other people thinking of you when times are going tough. Thank you, everyone. First, technically, Thursday night, sometime around 6 PM, I "died." But the defibrillator did exactly what it was supposed to do and zapped me; the heart started right back up again. Dr. Singh, my cardiologist, laughed about it in our meeting the next day. Apparently, it's normal routine to stop the heart at the end of the procedure and zap it - but mine did it all by itself. He also asked for my permission in webcasting the procedure and writing a paper on me. Apparently, he thinks he found what's kept me alive the last ten years. Internally, we all have organs and systems that, at some point in our species history, served a purpose - think of the appendix and gizzard. We've all got them, but they don't really do anything. One of the things we all have, when we're born, is sort of a "redundant" set of veins/arteries going to the heart. Normally one set will become dominant, the other set will just atrophy and wither, being completely unnecessary. In me, it seems, both sets were operational - poorly operational, but operational nonetheless - and operational in a pretty strange way... one set performed the function of carrying blood to the heart, the other carried blood from the heart. So though my ejection rate - the amount of blood circulating - was only 12%, because that strain was being carried by two different systems, the total stress was exponentially less on the heart. The cardiologist was really excited, because, he said, it showed that if medical science could somehow artificially have that second, redundant system be "re-animated," it could lead to whole new fields of study in heart disease. Say a baby born with major cardiac problems could have that second system activated, instead of atrophying, the life-sustaining potential could be enormous. Of course, I gave him permission; at our March 10 follow-up, he's giving me a DVD of the procedure and a copy of his paper... so if anyone, in the future, ever hears of a Payne-Singh (or some variation thereof) procedure... The bit with the nurses was wild. At one point, I left my room, dragging my IV behind me, and simply sat at the nurse's station, talking with Security. The nurses involved kept ordering me back to my room, and I told them: When you give me my medication, especially my pain medication, I will. Even though Security was already there, one of the nurses called a cop, who came and tried to get me back to my room; I refused. He said if I didn't follow his instructions, he'd have to arrest me. I told him, "Go on. At least at the jail hospital, I'm sure I'll get my meds." It was then the cop admitted he was a personal friend of one of the nurses, who lived nearby. He was off duty, but she called him at home to come in and "scare" one of her patients. The man in the room right by the nurse's station heard everything, and called me to his door, where he introduced himself, gave me his home phone number, and volunteered to be a witness if I ever needed one. One of the nurses, seeing us talk, came running, shut his door, locked it, and put a big "QUARANTINE" sign on the outside of his door, claiming he had a "very infectious disease." At that point, even one of the hospital's own security guards said: "There's someone with an airborn infectious disease on a cardiac surgery ward?" The next morning, when I spoke with the heads of Nursing and Surgery... and the QUARANTINE poster was still on the other patient's door... I was given the very direct impression both nurses were going to be terminated and face license revocation. So, I've been home, doing well. Today, I got on Gilligan for the first time and went down to the store. Electrically, I had no problems; there was no change in hearbeat I could ascertain... but, when I got home and got off Gilligan, I was feeling a bit nauseous. That, though, is probably from the pain... I intentionally have taken only half the prescribed amount of Percocet I've been given, as I don't like taking narcotics of any kind. I'm a little beat, and am going back into lurk mode. This was just the fastest, easiest way to notify everyone of the latest. Oh... and for those who asked: Yes, Bill was furious. One of the nurses called him at home at 1 AM Thursday night/Friday morning and told him: "You better get down here and quiet your faggot lover up." He answered the phone after the message started, so he's got that on tape, which has been given to the hospital. They even called my second point of contact, my sister Karen, in Pennsylvania and asked if I had any mental problems that she knew of. She immediately called me back on my cell. And the Director of Nursing noted the time they claimed to have given me my medications, according to their own chart, I was still in surgery. It was, truly, bizarre.