It’s been four years since I had two injections to the fifth lumbar of my back.
Last Wednesday I had two more shots to my back.
In went the needle to the arm to start a light sedative.
Before I know it, I’m lying on my stomach in an operating room, equipped with a huge x-Ray arc. “You going to use that on me” I say half jokingly. “Not today,” comes a polite response.
There are three female nurses plus a male nurse attending to me. “Why so many nurses,” I ask. No one answers. I start joking with one nurse. She is pleasant, but I fall back in silence, not knowing what is and is not appropriate to say to female nurses when a sedative may have started having its effect.
It’s all so serious I think to myself. Is this more serious than I remember it to be?
Someone behind me tells me it looks like I’m becoming anxious. My left arm trembles. “That’s age not anxiety,” I respond. Finally, I hear some laughter.
I feel the first needle go in. It’s long. The sedative isn’t strong enough, I say to my doctor.
I’m still conscious, I think, but then again I’m not completely sure.
All of a sudden It’s over. I honestly don’t know what zone I’m in. I awkwardly turn over, put my legs over the side, pull up my pants, put my shirt on, put my sandals on, stand up, need the help of two of the female nurses who steady me, go out and meet my wife. I sit down for a moment, feel more comfortable than usual, and drink a small can of orange juice.
The male nurse comes over and tells me the oximeter on my finger reads 90, which means there’s not enough oxygen in my blood. He said my heart has to work too hard to get oxygen in my bloodstream while I sleep. He uses the words Sleep Apnea. Oh, no, I say. Putting that mask on my face while I sleep. “Won’t happen.”
I get home , and start reading a series of Wikipedia articles on oxygen in my blood, or lack of it. I verge on intellectual dizziness reading all the causes for lack of oxygen in the bloodstream. The listed symptoms could be almost anything: diabetes, high blood pressure, COPD, a broken arm (yes, even a broken arm), . . .
I read a couple of articles on proper breathing. One says breath in and out through your nose only, the other says breath in through your nose and out through your mouth. I experiment with the latter, because I normally do the former.
The next day my lower back feels relaxed. Back pain is tolerable, but absence of it changes my behavior. No discomfort. I’m not figgity.
But my celebration is interrupted by my new obsession with breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth. I read another article that says to walk more, to be outside, to open my bedroom windows to let fresh air in. I do all that stuff. I go outside, start walking, concentrating on my breathing, and start coughing because of the smoked filled sky from the fires from Parleys Canyon.
It’s a confusing time. And as far as health care is concerned I think we’ve entered a new age. THE AGE OF HEALTH.
Whether it’s periodic vaccinations for new strains of COVID viruses, or lowering the age for new tests and treatments for colon cancer, health is our new passion – better said, our new obsession.
The medical profession has become super aggressive in treating. They have so many more resources. In fact, there are so many off the shelf ready to go vaccinations for different strains of Covid that we could get boosters every six months if necessary.
Health care is becoming a major component of our culture going forward. I go in for one thing, get information on another, do research on easy to use digital platforms, start practicing helpful procedures, and live a more stable life in the present.
It’s health everywhere, all the time, for everyone.
I even see health care in the clothes I wear. My tennis shoes are more light weight but sturdier. Just right for one who has had polio. In the store they mismatch the sizes of my shoes for my two different sized feet without charging me more.
It’s all good, even those two shots in my back.
Looking Where The Ball Will Be