Have you seen it yet? The parody from Mayo Clinic of Tommy Tutone’s 867-5309? Knowing my numbers as the parody shares wouldn’t have alerted us to my cardiac issue, or prevented my cardiac arrest. Mine was a wiring problem of the heart rather than a plumbing problem. However, the vast majority of women who deal with heart disease would be helped by knowing their numbers before it gets critical. Who are these women? Look in the mirror, pretty good chance it is you and if not you, your mother, your daughter, your sister. Heart disease is the number one killer of women. Thing is, much of it is preventable.
Category Archives: Heart
Well, at least we’re somewhat prepared now. The very lovely Becca of Our Crazy Boys organized a CPR training which I referred to in the last post. I got to meet some brilliant folks, including the amazing Ashleigh Burrows and Lia of My Craft Evolution (It turns out Lia and I worked in the same place about a decade ago. I just knew she looked familiar) and renew and update my knowledge of CPR for infants, children and adults. I swear CPR has changed in just the past few years. Our instructors were from the local non-profit Save-A-Life Foundation which consists of off-duty Tucson Fire Department folks and they were brilliant instructors. Have you been trained in CPR? Recently? If not in the past few years do yourself a favor and get certified or re-certified in CPR. If you’re local I recommend this group highly. They’ll even come out to teach private groups. I’m going to ask for Bean’s Preschool, see if I can get a group of parents together that might be interested.
I have exactly 13 minutes to write and post this tonight.
Local blogger Becca of Our Crazy Boys has been shouting from the rooftops about Aquatic Awareness since she began blogging at Our Crazy Boys. Spurred by the recent drownings in Arizona she is organizing a CPR Class this Saturday. Just three days ago a 9 year old had to be pulled from the pool here in Tucson and luckily their parents knew CPR. As someone who is here only because others knew CPR I’m going to encourage all to attend. Go on. Pleaseeee. If you want to join in the fun email Becca at ourcrazyboys dot com. I’m going to dig out the ol’ Safe Kids materials and take them with if I can. Phew. Done with a minute to spare. Night night all.
I’ve been posting. Really, I have. Just not here. See, check it out. I’m trying to find my pace there. I have another online project, just for fun though, that I’ve been thinking about for the past year or so, and started to do back in December only to put it on hold and I think that I’m finally moving beyond thinking and messing about to actually doing thanks due to Melissa and Ms.Velvet Hammer. I’ll tell you more soon. Honest. I know you’re just dying to know.
Talking of dying or not, I shared this at work today and can’t get it out of my head. Go on, play it. It is totally irreverent, but as a cardiac arrest survivor and as someone who lost a sibling to a heart attack I give you permission to laugh your arse off at this public service announcement. Well, as long as you take the message to heart. Get it? Take the message to heart. If Danny was still alive he would laugh too, but there wasn’t anyone nearby who knew CPR, so he can’t. So we have to laugh twice as hard for all those lost. Frak, only 32% of cardiac arrest victims receive CPR from a passerby. Only 8% of us make it from the site to the hospital. The number of us out in the public and functioning successfully is lower yet. The quicker we get CPR the higher the rate of survival, the greater the number of us that can continue to function and contribute in this society. Watch the bloody video will you and share. Thanks. I feel better now.
Check it out, then go to http://bit.ly/AHACrowdRise to find out about a little prize competition they’re having.
Staying alive, staying alive, staying alive….
I was late to the party. Heck, I didn’t even know about it, but last night it was on. There was a party all about saving lives. Your life and my life. It was a Twitter party hosted by the American Heart Association. I never make it to Twitter parties, I tend to the in person ones with cocktails and BBQs, perhaps a little dancing, but better late than never though. At the heart of it – this video. Please watch and share.
Oh and a little more info – All of us at some point in our lives will know someone or be the person who needs CPR, but only 32% of cardiac arrest victims receive CPR from a bystander, and less than 8% of those who have a cardiac arrest outside of hospital will survive. As one of that 8% I beg you to watch this and to share.
ps. Number one killer of women? Heart disease. More deaths than all cancers together. Now back to the never scheduled usual stuff.
Six years ago this whole recovery thing threw me for a loop as well. I feel like I’ve slept for nearly two weeks and am still exhausted. The thing is this surgery is supposed to be outpatient. I mean, technically mine was outpatient. I got there at 10:30am and stayed about 24 hours before being released, bur in my mind outpatient suggests that you’ll be up and doing your thing lickety split. Which meant that less than a week after the surgery, once I was cleared for driving, I was out at Festival en el Barrio Viejo (so flipping cool), Be Safe Saturday (also flipping cool) and Cyclovia (amazingly cool). I slept basically every other moment. When will I learn?
On a lighter note I had to take pictures for class. Hard not to pick up more than 5 pounds when the request is from Bean, and for a hug.
Surgery is over. My arm is in a sling, so I’m typing one-handed. Things are sore, but I’m home and I have percocet :).
So let me tell you about the story.
In 1998 I had a cardiac arrest. I was out running with my friend R. and I dropped. I have no memory of that day or in fact of several months before, bar a small snippet from going to an ice hockey game the night before. I was in a coma for several days. My first memory is waking up a week after the event and my father telling me that I’d had a cardiac arrest and that the doctors had implanted a device in me, an AICD, in my breast as a protection against it happening again. He told me so I wouldn’t pull or move dramatically as there were stitches under my breast. He explained why they had put it in my breast, that at the time I was slender enough that anywhere else wasn’t really practical and the doctors thought that cosmetically it would be better. I remember quite vividly what I thought which was basically,
WTF! Hello, breast = secondary sexual organ. What were you thinking when you agreed that was a good idea? Bloody parents.
Yep, not hallelujah I’m alive, but WTF. Ungrateful sod that I am.
I did come to recognize that it was a good thing and this time as the nurse checked out my boob and asked if the doctors were going to put the AICD somewhere else, I told her in no uncertain terms that they’d have some serious explaining to do if they moved it. They didn’t move it.