Note to readers: Good news, bad news

The actual surgery went fine. New baclofen pump installed.

The real problem was getting me from the wheelchair to the hospital bed pre-surgery and from the bed to the wheelchair post surgery. I won't go into all the details, but their hoyer lift was an ancient p.o.s. And get this: the design of the hospital bed was such that the base of the hoyer lift could not go under the bed, which means they couldn't just lift me, roll the lift under the, bed and then lower me. Instead, they TILTED THE LIFT on its side to get me over the bed. If I recall correctly there were 5 people in the room trying to make this happen.

When I awoke in recovery, I immediately noticed my lower back muscles were tightening and starting to spasm. Somewhere in the process from wc to bed, from bed to operating table and from operating table to bed, they had thrown my back out.

.Then, of course, I faced the prospect of getting from the bed to my wc. They had a new sling that was so large I would have slipped out ( and I'm a pretty big old boy). I told them to stop, and convinced them to let my daughter into recovery, that she could operate my wc and place it at the right angle so I could attempt to transfer myself. They let Sevon in, she put the wc right, and bad back and all, I was able to lift and transfer myself in two moves. I had not done this in almost four years. Why? Because at another hospital and during another procedure, they had really thrown my back out. It was so bad I couldn't transfer at all. The hoyer lift was acquired because of this, and my helpers felt it was easier on them (and me) and also safer to use the lift, and that's what we have done every since.

The real kicker, though, was just prior to surgery they asked if I was seeing a heart doctor. I said no. Well, they said, your EKG indicates you've recently had a heart attack. That, my friends, is a helluva thing to be told just before they gas you and you are wondering if you'll ever wake up.

My daughter thinks it happened when my wife, Sharon, passed away.

I think it happened when former Sec. of Interior Zinke chicken shitted his way into deciding to not help the ranchers in Obama's national monument down here, and 10 plus years of work was flushed down the Rio Grande.

I have not shared a lot on this blog about my 30-year journey with multiple sclerosis, but decided to give you a peek inside today.

Next, I expect, is an echocardiogram. And no more peeking.

Things are looking up. Granddaughter Romia just showed up with her delicious, keto-friendly chocolate cake. I can assure you I'll have no problems transferring that to its appropriate place.