(Relatively) great news!

[Doug Harris]

Wow, Wilson,
Ya almost went from tales-never-cryptic to tales-from-the-crypt.
You're prolly just as lucky the paddles didn't get pulled out.
They no doubt would just them as paddles so often _used_ to be
cuz of you actin' up with that SYT. Chances are, though, that
she'd have vouched that you were being a Sweet, not Dirty OM.
--
I (like, I'm sure, many others) am glad you're writing-fit again!
dh
_________

Wilson wrote:

Thank you all - "y'a''ll can't be used here, because, for me, it
refers to any random group of people, but I want o express my response
to your posts, specifically - for your encouraging replies. I was
especially embarrassed, since i was, in my mindf, making a conscious
effort *not* to strike "a" for "ADS-L," when I really intended "s" for
"Sugar_Pie."

For the record, the procedure was a failure. Indeed, I nearly became
one of those "Died on the operating table during a routine,
non-surgical, medical procedure" stats.

I have a naturally-slow pulse, ca.60 instead of he normal ca.72. When
they gave me a hit of fentanyl to keep my gag reflex from going off as
they slid in he endoscope (I choose to believe that it was *not* the
same endoscope used earlier in a colonoscopy) down my throat, my pulse
immediately dropped to ca.50 and below, scaring the shit out of the
doctors, who thought that I could very well go into cardiac arrest.

Being loaded on fentanyl, I was stone cold, totally unconcerned, as a
couple of male nurses - I weigh ca.265 -  rolled me off the operating
table onto a gurney and ran me into the cardiac ICU, now PC'edly known
as the "urgent-care facility," and rolled me onto another operating
table. I was so fucked up on the 'nyl that I couldn't help laughing,
when they hooked me up to the heart-rate beeper, whatever it's called.
Like, I'd seen this done a zillion times on TV and here it was being
done not only for real, but also to *me*! Y'all, I cracked up! They
nearly had to give me a shot to cool me out. (Un)fortunately, my heart
didn't actually stop, so I missed out on having the electric paddles
used on me, more's the pity.

The cardiologist-in-charge was a sweet young thing, a female Dougie
Hauser. I told her that, if I lived, we'd adopt her. She actually
blushed.

Anyway, it took about fifteen minutes, which turned out to be about
six hours, in reality, to get me straight, it turned out that
verapamil, my cluster-headache-control med, had increased the
physiological action of the fentanyl, leading to symptoms of possible
cardiac arrest.

IAC, all's well that ends well. They told me to cut my vep dosage in
half and gave me the come-back, now set for some time in August. I
think that I'll cut vep out altogether, since I haven't had a
full-blown cluster attack since 1993, only an occasional shadow. Wait.
That's probably a consequence of taking the vep. I'll just follow the
doctor's orders.

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