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I forgot...
Thar you go...
This is just my little place in the world to blog about whatever comes to mind. I plan to review books, movies, music, bands, bars food and restaurants, along with my wife, step sons, marriage past and present, anything is fair game! and AVM's
This is the story of my experiences into the unknown and heretofore unheard of world of Arteriovenous Malformations (AVM). My name is Mike and I have one. I have also begun this blog to give personal and ongoing testimony to the fact that, as the Bible says, God causes all things to work together for good to those who love Him and are called according to His purposes (Romans 8:28). Many kind people have asked me to keep them up to date on what is happening. This is my attempt to do just that. I knew that the day of October 23, 2008 was not going to be a typical Thursday morning when I awoke to a man trying to place an oxygen mask on my face as I regained consciousness from a severe seizure.
It was 5:30 a.m. and I awoke to a room full of people and a crying wife. I was confused and could not comprehend what was going on but I knew enough to apologize to one of the Earlham First Responders for making him get out of bed at 5:00 in the morning! Dan kindly explained that I had just had a seizure and that they were there to help me.
I then sat up on the edge of the bed and I remember the words of Psalm 73:26-27 coming directly to my confused mind: “My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.” Nothing else made any sense to me at that moment, but that comforting promise from God’s Word calmed my soul like nothing else could have done. I am a follower of Jesus Christ. For twenty eight years I have sought to live my life in a manner pleasing to Him. I am also the pastor of Crossroad Evangelical Free Church in Earlham, Iowa, but don’t let that impress you, for I am fully aware of the great Reformation principle of simultaneously justified and yet still a sinner (simul iustus et peccator).
Though I have been cleansed by the blood of Christ through faith in His finished work on the Cross and His subsequent resurrection three days later, I am also painfully aware of the fact that I still sin against God every day in thought, word, deed, as well as in those good things left undone. Nevertheless, the grace of God to me on this surreal morning came with an unmistakable promise from God’s Word to my confused mind.
I then stood up and walked over to the dresser to put some jeans on over the boxer shorts I had worn to bed the night before. With all of the people in my bedroom it just seemed like the right thing to do. I think the medical personnel were surprised to see me hop up out of bed so quickly…from a state of apparent unconsciousness to jumping out of bed. I think it’s funny.
The medical personnel then explained that they wanted to take me to the hospital by ambulance. I put up a weak resistance because I knew that this was nothing to trifle with. So, I walked out to the front porch where the paramedics strapped me to a gurney and loaded me up. It was a rather pleasant 30 minute trip to Iowa Methodist Medical Center. Upon entering the E.R. we noticed that there was hardly anyone else in there. Good. I could receive the full attention of all the doctors.
As my mind began to clear up a bit I began to process what had happened and I reasoned that the seizure was just a fluke thing. After all, lots of people have a seizure at some point in their lives. Then began the battery of tests. The first test I was subjected to was a CT scan. My wife Karla became concerned when the test went on long past the time the techs said it would. Not long after this was completed an ER doctor entered the room to explain that I had a rather large AVM and briefly explained what it was. It was then that I was informed that I would be required to stay in the hospital for more tests.
I was extremely disappointed to have to stay overnight in the hospital. I hadn’t done that since I was five years old and had my tonsils out. For lack of space on other floors they put me on the heart floor with lots of truly sick people. I entered the room and sat on a chair next to my wife in blue jeans and a t-shirt. Minutes later a doctor entered the room and asked me if I was the brother of the patient…apparently since I was not in the bed. He did not notice the IV on my opposite arm.
I explained that I was comfortable where I was and that I didn’t see any need to get into the hospital bed. The nurse explained that patients normally lay in the beds with the hospital gowns. And here is the highlight of these two days. I politely but firmly refused to put on the ridiculous hospital gown with the wide open back door. Though I was still in somewhat of a loopy state, even Karla admits that I refused in a way that was as polite as was possible. An understanding nurse asked me if I would be ok wearing doctor’s scrubs. I said “Yes.” And that’s what I wore for two days and one night…to the amusement of doctors, surgeons, interns, and med students alike. To have even a bit of control over a difficult situation is not only comforting but it’s also a bit fun.
(Please click on the next entry Tests, More Tests, and Some Tough News if you want to find out important details about what was really going on with me).
This is the story of my experiences into the unknown and heretofore unheard of world of Arteriovenous Malformations (AVM). My name is Mike and I have one. I have also begun this blog to give personal and ongoing testimony to the fact that, as the Bible says, God causes all things to work together for good to those who love Him and are called according to His purposes (Romans 8:28). Many kind people have asked me to keep them up to date on what is happening. This is my attempt to do just that. I knew that the day of October 23, 2008 was not going to be a typical Thursday morning when I awoke to a man trying to place an oxygen mask on my face as I regained consciousness from a severe seizure.
It was 5:30 a.m. and I awoke to a room full of people and a crying wife. I was confused and could not comprehend what was going on but I knew enough to apologize to one of the Earlham First Responders for making him get out of bed at 5:00 in the morning! Dan kindly explained that I had just had a seizure and that they were there to help me.
I then sat up on the edge of the bed and I remember the words of Psalm 73:26-27 coming directly to my confused mind: “My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.” Nothing else made any sense to me at that moment, but that comforting promise from God’s Word calmed my soul like nothing else could have done. I am a follower of Jesus Christ. For twenty eight years I have sought to live my life in a manner pleasing to Him. I am also the pastor of Crossroad Evangelical Free Church in Earlham, Iowa, but don’t let that impress you, for I am fully aware of the great Reformation principle of simultaneously justified and yet still a sinner (simul iustus et peccator).
Though I have been cleansed by the blood of Christ through faith in His finished work on the Cross and His subsequent resurrection three days later, I am also painfully aware of the fact that I still sin against God every day in thought, word, deed, as well as in those good things left undone. Nevertheless, the grace of God to me on this surreal morning came with an unmistakable promise from God’s Word to my confused mind.
I then stood up and walked over to the dresser to put some jeans on over the boxer shorts I had worn to bed the night before. With all of the people in my bedroom it just seemed like the right thing to do. I think the medical personnel were surprised to see me hop up out of bed so quickly…from a state of apparent unconsciousness to jumping out of bed. I think it’s funny.
The medical personnel then explained that they wanted to take me to the hospital by ambulance. I put up a weak resistance because I knew that this was nothing to trifle with. So, I walked out to the front porch where the paramedics strapped me to a gurney and loaded me up. It was a rather pleasant 30 minute trip to Iowa Methodist Medical Center. Upon entering the E.R. we noticed that there was hardly anyone else in there. Good. I could receive the full attention of all the doctors.
As my mind began to clear up a bit I began to process what had happened and I reasoned that the seizure was just a fluke thing. After all, lots of people have a seizure at some point in their lives. Then began the battery of tests. The first test I was subjected to was a CT scan. My wife Karla became concerned when the test went on long past the time the techs said it would. Not long after this was completed an ER doctor entered the room to explain that I had a rather large AVM and briefly explained what it was. It was then that I was informed that I would be required to stay in the hospital for more tests.
I was extremely disappointed to have to stay overnight in the hospital. I hadn’t done that since I was five years old and had my tonsils out. For lack of space on other floors they put me on the heart floor with lots of truly sick people. I entered the room and sat on a chair next to my wife in blue jeans and a t-shirt. Minutes later a doctor entered the room and asked me if I was the brother of the patient…apparently since I was not in the bed. He did not notice the IV on my opposite arm.
I explained that I was comfortable where I was and that I didn’t see any need to get into the hospital bed. The nurse explained that patients normally lay in the beds with the hospital gowns. And here is the highlight of these two days. I politely but firmly refused to put on the ridiculous hospital gown with the wide open back door. Though I was still in somewhat of a loopy state, even Karla admits that I refused in a way that was as polite as was possible. An understanding nurse asked me if I would be ok wearing doctor’s scrubs. I said “Yes.” And that’s what I wore for two days and one night…to the amusement of doctors, surgeons, interns, and med students alike. To have even a bit of control over a difficult situation is not only comforting but it’s also a bit fun.
(Please click on the next entry Tests, More Tests, and Some Tough News if you want to find out important details about what was really going on with me).
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Y'all don't know this, well may by you do know, but a section of us "people" need to write down this stuff.... hoping that somehow we'll find some new meaning to what had happened... and may be some new treatment, when we read someone's blog, or medical paper.
Someone else back me up? please...
Well it is time for me to go... looking for some miracle cure.
Peach out...
R
Sponsored by: | University of California, San Francisco |
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Information provided by: | University of California, San Francisco |
ClinicalTrials.gov Identifier: | NCT00783523 |
Brain vascular malformations, including arteriovenous malformations (AVM), cavernous malformations (CVM) and aneurysms, are a source of life-threatening risk of intracranial hemorrhage. The etiology and pathogenesis are unknown. There is no medical therapy presently available. Prevention of spontaneous intracerebral hemorrhage (ICH) is the primary reason to treat brain vascular malformations. The goal of this study is to: begin pilot studies to lay the groundwork for future clinical trials to develop medical therapy to decrease ICH risk.
Matrix metalloproteinases (MMPs) regulate the extracellular matrix in association with various hemorrhagic brain disorders. MMP-9 has been most consistently associated with vascular wall instability and hemorrhagic brain disorders. Doxycycline, a non-specific MMP inhibitor, may enhance vascular stability, thus reducing the risk of spontaneous hemorrhage in brain vascular malformations by decreasing MMP-9 activity.
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December 21, 2008 by donnatrussell
Yesterday I saw open grief at a memorial service for a friend. I can’t tell you how refreshing that was.
Photographer and Kansas City Star restaurant critic Lauren Chapin had just turned 50 when she basically dropped dead at the gym. Lauren was a trim, energetic, happy wife and mother of two teenaged daughters she adored.
She was in perfect health, everyone thought. But she had a previously undiagnosed condition, an aneurysm/AVM. The first symptom proved fatal.
At Lauren’s 100-percent no-BS memorial service, I saw tears, confusion and longing. A little regret that there was no time to say goodbye, no time to at least try to express the inexpressible.
Because of the family’s generosity and the quick action of doctors, Lauren’s organs went to desperate patients somewhere. The family was grateful for this thin silver lining.
I did not see anger. I did not hear rationalization. I did not sense false optimism.
One daughter said: Mom, I thought you’d live to be 100. The other said: Mom, I thought you’d live forever. Several people said: Don’t forget to tell people you love them. Don’t forget to give your loved ones hugs and kisses every day.
A friend told how Lauren’s cell phone was constantly ringing, and how annoying the chirping-birds ringtone could get. Breaking down, she added: What I would give to hear those birds again.
Some five years ago Lauren’s husband Tim lost a younger sister to cancer despite the complete absence of risk factors. Tim’s 39-year-old sister lived just five months after her diagnosis. A story from Tim’s eloquent eulogy for his sister ended up in my blog a few months ago: I’m Too Special to Get Cancer.
A pancreatic cancer patient spoke of an invisible wall. She could see her brothers and sisters at the foot of her hospital bed. “I don’t want to be on this side of the wall,” she said. “I want to be on the other side, with all of you.”
Yesterday at Lauren’s service, the wish for some time to say goodbye was palpable. Even a few painful weeks. Our minds reject a model of illness so sudden and final. There’s supposed to be a dark cloud of symptoms, the anxiety of tests, the dread of the diagnosis and the slim hope of a second opinion.
Of course none of that would be a picnic, but it gives time. Time to hold someone’s hand in a doctor’s waiting room. Time to cry together. Time to look at old photographs. Time to tell stories and laugh. Time for final words to loved ones who will then take those words to their own graves.
We can’t accept illness as a dropping anvil, and then nothing.
And yet, she could have died in a car accident. Anyone can. So why does Lauren’s death feel so wrong, I asked a family member.
We decided it was because every day we buckle our seat belts. Every day we watch traffic. Every day we’re reminded we could be hit by a car that comes out of nowhere. But even then, we picture injury. Maybe life-threatening injury.
But we stubbornly cling to the idea of a few weeks or days—hell, even a few hours—to kiss loved ones on the forehead and say what a privilege it was to walk the earth with them.
Yesterday the irony of the moment seemed lost on noone. How could death come to someone so adventurous and embracing of the here and now? Lauren was not wealthy, but she found ways to study at Oxford during her college years and, throughout her life, travel the world.
One coworker told of a quick foray into a nearby shop of South American imports. Lauren and her friend went their separate ways in the store, but came back together holding the same pair of $149 boots. The friend, noting the high price, tried to inject some reason into the discussion, but Lauren finally ended it all with: “Life is short. We’re awesome. We deserve it.”
The grieving family did not get the chance to say goodbye to Lauren. But maybe Lauren was saying goodbye every day by the gutsy way she lived. As her sister put it, Lauren’s main legacy was: Say yes. Say yes to life.
As a proud contrarian, I’m known for my disdain of the positive-thinking dogma that’s rammed down everyone’s throat. But in Lauren’s honor, I’ll do a double backflip and be a contrarian on being a contrarian. Or at least I promise to try.
I will try to dream a little bigger. If Lauren were here, I’d bet she’d say, with a smile: I dare you.
This has got to be the best Bush Iraq shoe-throwing animated gif
He's got a lot of new stuff... give him a look... click here
I got no avm news... HORAY!
Work yesterday; nothing to report... and I mean nothing! Not a person walked in... much less signed the BOOK.
I don't know what is going to happen with the Corporation buying the store. It could be good for me... it could be bad! Ahh well I am a part timer, I guess it will be what it is.
Enjoy Welcome To Wally World... tell him I sent you... please.
here buy some stuff...
Sophia, who is 3 months old, has vein of Galen malformation, or arteriovenous malformation (AVM). The large, deep vein at the base of her brain lacks capillaries, so her blood flows much too quickly from the arteries to the vein, which becomes overwhelmed by the intense bloodflow.
On Dec. 4, Dr. Alejandro Berenstein, director of the Hyman-Newman Institute for Neurology and Neurosurgery at St. Luke’s-Roosevelt Hospital in New York City, performed an embolization: He inserted a hollow tube containing the medical glue, or N-butyl-cyanoacrylate Trufill, through Sophia’s groin and fired bursts of it into the holes of the arteries.
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