I Know It's All Part of Life, But...

I'd love for this post to be a witty, cheery respite from the last two entries. I'll bet you would, too. We'll all have to wait for that; sorry.

For those unaware, my closest friend (Rob) collapsed on April 23, and has been unconscious since. He suffered from Congestive Heart Failure and Atrial Fibrillation. Other factors which I will not discuss also contributed to his illness. Rob went into cardiac arrest, too. He was taken to a local hospital, and then transported to the University of Pennsylvania Cardiac ICU after six days.

Two weeks and two days later, things are as bleak as they were then. His heart is a mess, and still in atrial fibrillation. His liver is shot, making him ineligible for a heart transplant. Since his heart is so damaged, he cannot have a liver transplant. Catch 22 of all Catch 22s. He has never regained consciousness. I think it's best he doesn't. 

Up until this morning, his kidneys were functioning ok. No longer. 

He now has a fever of 104Fº. The ventilator is still in. Unfortunately, those last two items are almost certainly connected, but we have to wait for the cultures to come back from the lab. Regardless, it is the news I've been dreading and it was just a matter of time.

It gets worse, but those bits of information are too personal to share. I will hint that several family members are not the most supportive or functional. His wife has barely left his side though. She is so alone. 

I'm the only adult male they know who has a clue about what questions to ask, or who has been there on even a somewhat regular basis. Unfortunately the move to U. Penn. puts Rob out of my reach. I just can't keep taking days off of work to drive out there. His family needs to pick up the slack. 

***My writing was just now interrupted by a phone call from Rob's editor at U.S. Presswire (after "retiring" Rob began work as a pro sports photographer). I gave the editor my number when this happened and alerted him that Rob would not be going out to photograph any sports for the foreseeable future. Dan, the editor, is a very kind man. He apologized for bothering me, but my number was the only connection he had to Rob, and he was hoping I might have some positive news for him. By the time we hung up we were both nearly in tears.***

There is no outcome for this in which a happy ending abides. The anger and hopelessness I have been feeling for two weeks have taken their toll on me as well. Depression is a vicious and ruthless foe. I am seeing someone professionally who can help me with it. I recognize the danger of trying to handle this on my own.

I know that we are living beings and, as such, our only true and unalterable bond is that we all must cease living at some point. I get it. I understand it. 

But, you know...

You Will.

Who deserves a heart?

Who decides who deserves a heart?

Who gives the power to the one(s) who decides who deserves the heart?

Where do we stand, ethically? Are we on a continuum, moving toward a greater and more comprehensive understanding of human life? Of all life?

Because we can do something, are we obligated to take action and do it? 

Have we created societies that expect things that we cannot continue to support, even though we are technologically capable of achieving them? And why can we not continue to support certain actions?

Because they are costly? Because they use up resources that should go elsewhere? 

Because one individual may be more deserving of the resources than another? Which one of us gets to decide?

If you haven't thought of these yet, you will. And more.

I Can't Write About This, But I Have To

Have you ever needed to get some words out? Just out...anywhere, any way,  out of you and onto the wind?

This post is that, because there's no point to it other than that I need to write the words, speak the words and get them out of me. I don't even care if anyone responds, because it's not necessary to do so. I'm not asking for sympathy or platitudes. It's enough that someone will read them.

Earlier, you saw some posts of mine with photos of amazing wildlife from south Florida. I captured those images while on photo-safari with my buddy. Let's call him Rob. I stayed at his house for the week and we went out every day together on our little adventures. It was great. He lives up in the north, in my town, and likes to spend colder months in Florida. We've been joined at the hip with photography for years, and our photo safaris are my ideal time to do exactly what I want to do. His too.

Enough background. My gut punch came yesterday, when his wife sent me a text message telling me Rob had had a massive heart attack and was in the Cardiac ICU in a hospital an hour away from where we live. I was there in just over 45 minutes.

My buddy lies among the most godawful tangle of tubes, wires, pumps, and machines you'll never want to see. The first thing you notice in the ICU is the smell. I've been there hundreds of times in the course of my work, maybe thousands, but it smelled worse than usual. It's that mix of smells: chemicals, ozone, cleaning fluids, antiseptic, latex, linen, and of course, people. Or more to the point, all of the things that drain and leak from people.

In the span of an hour or so, Rob went from being a dad driving his wife and daughter on a college hunting tour to a comatose mass of flesh. A ventilator breathes for him. Another machine takes his blood out of his body, oxygenates it, and returns it to his body because his heart is too damaged to pump and his lungs are too weak to do the job. At least a dozen other lines feed into and out out him, all of which support some measure to keep life in him. There are more things going wrong with his body than are going right.

His youngest daughter asks me questions faster than I could possibly answer, even if I had answers. She initially shrinks back from her father's motionless form on the bed until I can explain all of the tubes and the bloody things to her. Some of them are unfamiliar, even to me. Then she pokes his forearm over and over, trying to make him respond. Of course, he does not, but maybe deep down under all of the sedation and paralyzation drugs - maybe he knows it's her.

Rob's wife tells me she doesn't even know what questions to ask the endless stream of doctors and nurses. She thanks me for knowing and being there. I don't want to know and I don't want to be there. I want to be walking with camera in hand, with Rob, answering his questions about how to get this shot or that shot.

There is no winning here, only the opportunity to delay the inevitable. He cannot be transferred to another hospital - no way to survive the move. Everything is taken minute by minute right now, hour by hour. There is no grand plan, just small, hopeful steps. Survive this machine long enough to have drug "X" withdrawn. Hope the vital organs begin to work again. Hope that the oxygen deprivation hasn't caused brain damage.

Right now nothing works. Unhook any one of the tubes and life is gone.

I'm not asking "Why?". We know why. We just don't know, "Why now?". And that doesn't matter. It simply did happen now.

The nurses are great. No one stops working; no one stops stops trying. The cardiologist is a socially inept dick, but then again, so many are. I don't care. I just want him to be competent.

Go back and look at those photos I mentioned. They are almost the last thing I did with Rob. The very last thing I did with him was celebrate his eldest daughter's marriage two weeks ago.

There is that.

It's Here!

Oh, how I've waited for this moment! I won't make you wait to guess because it's too grand, too important, too wonderfully pee-inducing.

Here, in pictures and in words, is what arrived on my doorstep this afternoon:


You would have loved my shriek of delight - it brought my dogs running at their insane best.











                           



                                        Amazon! Ooooooh! I know what this is!

Tear this thing open HERE!


The boys scorched the lawn in their zealous affirmation of my glee. My prize...










Direct from The Bloggess, or whatever warehouse her publisher uses.









Mine! Mine!!!






Let's just say I know what I'm doing this evening.




- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Simple Photo To Share

No big updates or other craziness to share right now, although lots of things still brewing. But for today, another photo to share from the Myakka State Forest during my recent expedition. Enjoy!

A Rosiette Spoonbill seems to parachute gently over the water: