PE Pulmonary Embolism

PE used to stand for Physical Education – with Ruth Raven, in red over pants, in the gym. These days it stands for Pulmonary Embolism. It was not the first but second time, a warning, as I am sandwiched between my father, who died aged 62 and mother, aged 67. I’m heart beating at 65 years on this earth.

Reflecting there had been warnings I’d ignored, a shortness of breath, a thought, I must take up tennis this year, get my body together. But there had been a hiccup with Michael, and all direction went to this. He’d been unhappy, I had not seen, he’d confided in his daughters who blocked me with a silence I did not hear. He had not talked to me, and we’d had such good communication. He broke his silence after Christmas from Texas. Time to take stock. The space of my bungalow too challenging, he returned to the UK and moved back to his town house of Station road. It happened in this in between time.

I’d walked the dogs on Bungay common, interviewed for hopes and dreams project. Not felt on top of the world, a bit cold, and under the radar of life. Still I wanted to see the Bowie film st the Cut, arranged to see Jo there. Come 6 a stabbing pain under right breast augmented. Texted jo, not well, no Bowie. She came anyhow. And thank god she did. I’d called 111, been advised to go to a and e, but a painkiller had numbed the pain and a Bushmills gave a comfortable warmth, I felt under control. Come midnight, I could it lie down, could hardly breath, a shallow breath. Fear. Jo drove. I holding onto front dash to stabilise roundabouts, and there are a lot between here and James Paget.

We were seen immediately, I given morphine, blood taken ECG monitored. Pleurisy suspected, but first a D dimmer test, and CT scan. We played games, trying out the beds, the eye equipment, testing eye sight. High on no sleep, we were eventually seen by the sole doctor in charge at 6am.

Yes it’s a PE he confirmed using the acronym. A prescription of rivoroxin – for live – was presented. I posted with the for life caption on Facebook. Called Kevin who picked me up and drove me home.

Fire a lite. Jo resting, Theo had the dogs. The next two days, jo became my gate keeper. Organising the wave of giving and help, into meals on wheels. Lotti preparing a lasagna, toad in the hole. Serena coming around with crumble. Facebook post solicited responses from world wide friends, sharing their For Life stories.

It is a wake up call. The pain has subsided. The breath still shallow. I am still treading water, catching up. Pippa and I and the team held hopes and dreams workshop 1 today. Feeling useful listening supporting lives. In this wood I must find my own, the space to see and be with friends, find the love of Brow, who is still a stranger to me, as Ruffio cuddles up beside.

Time to order seeds , explore the land . Plant trees. Take a break from Michael (‘Have you sent off your Will?)). I feel sad about our growing distance, my loss of trust, the love that once was there. He does not seem to mind, but finds his way, takes care.

I work away, clear my desk. Go out to woods, order seeds. Even take an afternoon rest sometimes.

This from Leslie:

Wtf! It’s a good thing your friends are around.
I seem to remember that only two or three years ago you were out of breath walking on the flats… And your friends insisted that you go to a doctor.  you also had Covid recently (and were enjoying the rest!) I’m sure you’re aware what Covid does to the lungs long-term. 

Anyway, I’m glad you survived. You are a dear person to me, and I would be sorry not to ever see you again.
Btw, Robert is on warfarin for life as well. And David Kaplan had a heart attack at 3am. He knew what was happening, but same as u, no ambulance available. But he lives in London and Maggie was able to drive him to the hospital at 3am. He got wonderful care. stents put in. And was resting comfortably by 6:30 AM. So he’s on warfarin too. 
Trust me on this… You must wear support kneehighs every day. You can buy them at boots, or any chemists or online. I’m sure the doctor will tell you the same.

(And I’m sure you got told off for smoking. But I’m not going to go there.)
I think your decision to live separate is probably going to save both of your sanities. Or at least yours! The resentment that would be incurred living together would eat away at the relationship and at your heart.
Maybe it’s time for Racel not to be the caretaker, maybe it’s time for rachel to let some people take care of her??

Oh, I am so full of good advice. And you know I am always too blunt, so forgive me and don’t let me offend you.

Love L