I emailed burrhog yesterday, and again today, and I’ve yet to hear back from him, so I’m going to violate my circumspection and just let you all know what I know. Here’s today’s email from me to him:
Keith,
If you can hear me, please click the handset.
I’m getting lots of requests for an update.
I hope you’re okay.
Dan
I still haven’t heard, though, and that makes me nervous, for reasons that will be apparent to you in a moment. Here’s yesterday’s email:
Dan,
Well…
On April 26th I had my aortic valve replaced and mitral valve repaired, bypass of a stint my wacky Corpus cardiologist stuck in me last summer. They got in there and ‘found’ a calcified mass ( a rock ) the size of a “babies head” next to my heart according to the surgeon. The pericardia was so calcified the surgeon hacked most of it out. All this was closed up and I finally got out of the hospital Fri the 19 th? Monday, the 21st, I knew I was screwed, went to the surgeon, everything is infected, straight to the hospital. I have drains in my plural cavity where my lymph glands would normally take care of fluid, in my case the lymph glands are non existent for the same reason all this is so screwed up now – I had radiation/chemo as a kid for Hodgkin’s.I have been through thirty-one days of hell. I have been through hell before; scrapple with the bottle. I’m twelve years sober. These last thirty days I have prayed for the end many times. My bags are packed. I’m ready.
I am isolated as my life was in Corpus Christi but I am in Austin for the surgery. My family (I am single, so it’s mom,dad,brother, sister-in-law and cousin) is now suffering as I have to have someone with me 24 hours. My mom is at her wits end.
This is one of those one day at a time deals. I am at the end or a beginning.
Prayers. That’s all I can ask for. It has worked before.
I am so beyond tired. I have minutes of energy a day.There. I told somebody else. I am too tired to wrap this up poetically.
Keith Johnston
Seton Hospital
Austin, TX
UPDATE: thor, in comments:
You can call Seton Hospital at 512.324.1000 and connect to the gift shop. The computer says Keith is in room 351.
I sent him an 18-inch stuffed monkey named Chump with the note – “From all your Chumps at Protein Wisdom, Get Well Soon.â€Â
If any of you are in the Austin area, please contact the hospital to see if there’s anything that we can do for him. Let me know, please.
Someone once said that God never gives any of us a mountain we can’t climb. I read things like this and can’t help feeling that God must simply expect less of me than of some others.
That is truly an odd ailment but I pray he will find the strength to get through it – and truly, more than anyone here can know, understand the sentiments he gives.
I’m in McGehee’s company, Christopher, but I’m glad one of us has some insight. Apart from prayer, what do you recommend?
Cell phones and laptops probably aren’t anywhere near him. The condition described sounds like something where the patient wouldn’t be anything less that woozy and in and out of consciousness for at least a week or two. A calcified mass the size of a baby’s head doesn’t need to be near the heart to be a major surgery, but put it near that and you’ve got a whole host of possible complications: ribs need to get back in place, blood flow issues, major surgery on top of major surgery, the medical history (no lymph nodes? oh, shit!), painful use of arms (don’t expect him to hold a phone on his own for long, much less type), constant monitoring, et cetera. I’m not a believer in any god, but I won’t get in the way of anyone who asks for divine assistance on this guy’s behalf. Infections, recovery, and all the rest could keep this poor guy out of commission for a long time even with a miracle.
Good luck to him, sounds like he needs it.
You guys are so sweet sometimes it makes me cry.
I’ll offer my prayers.
It is entirely possible that they’ve put him on a ventilator – which doesn’t mean the end, but they keep you near comatose while on them, hence no responses.
Keep the faith, guys.
For the love of God…
Please be at ease, please be comforted, Burrhog; you and yours. I don’t know what it means to go through what you are, but I was in hospital early this year with a micro-stroke. It was no end of not fun.
Please get better; please be comfortable. Please feel warm and safe.
O, Gawd, RWS, tears are prayers plus.
You can call Seton Hospital at 512.324.1000 and connect to the gift shop. The computer says Keith is in room 351.
I sent him an 18-inch stuffed monkey named Chump with the note – “From all your Chumps at Protein Wisdom, Get Well Soon.”
I would like to give Keith this metaphor, cause I’m not using it.
Thanks, thor. You rock. Is there anyone in a position to provide respite to the mom?
That sounds remarkably unpleasant. The childhood Hodgkins coming back to bite strikes a chord.
Peace be with you, burrhog.
McGeehee: I used to hear something like that bon mot all the time during the seven years I underwent chemotherapy, radiation, etc.–God never gives us more than we can handle, right?
I finally realized, that yes, of course He does. He gives us more than we can handle all the time…so that we understand that we must rely on Him and our loved ones (like burrhog’s pw friends) to pull us through.
I’ll give my rosary a going-over tonight. As a newcomer here, I don’t have the history that some of you do with Keith, but my grandpa said that you can tell a lot about a man by virtue of the caliber of his friends.
Nuff said.
Understood. I take it to mean that we can get through it if we call upon all our resources—and the greatest resource anyone has is Him.
I’d love to send him a stuffed armadillo. I found one here, at the Austin City Store, but there was no answer when I called.
Any chance I can talk Amanda Marcotte into picking one up and dropping it off to him, you think?
Otherwise I’ll try again on Wednesday—or tomorrow, if I get home from all the doctors appointments in time.
You know what? I hope Burrhog reads this, and get mad. I hope he gets so mad that he send Dan Collins an e-mail so hot that it singes the eyebrows right off his face.
Why?
Because that would mean that Keith is on the mend.
Someone should unpack his bags when he’s not looking. That’ll tick him off.
Stoo, I like the way you think.
“Someone once said that God never gives any of us a mountain we can’t climb.”
Oh, yes, He does.
Maybe, but I like my metaphor better anyway.
All we can offer is support, kindness, and concern. Personally I think the most stunning display of friendship in hard times ever recorded is in the book of Job, where his three friends sat by Job and said nothing for an entire week. They were just… with him. He knew they were there, and nothing needed to be said.
Illness, particularly chronic illness, can make you feel so very alone and isolated, even when people are all around. Just having someone there even if they say and do nothing matters tremendously. Having this blog show support and concern helps, even if just a little.
31 days. Poor guy. Prayers said, hoping commenced.
Thank you, Dan, for the information/update.
Thank you, Thor, just thank you.
I wish I was close enough to spell his Mother. Bless her heart.
Will continue praying for burrhog/Keith.
Ahem.
Thanks, PattyAnn. Likewise here.
Words fail me.
I cried so hard when I came out of the bathroom and saw the monkey sitting in my bed. I just knew the imbecilic ambassador was from the PW crowd when I first laid eyes on him.
That’s the first Joy I have felt in four weeks. Nobody knows how this is going to turn out for me. So far, I have fallen behind every healing curve the docs had.
Good news: the open, sucking chest wound seems to be healing. It’s possible that problem will be behind me in a few more days.
I went into this knowing there was a 30% hospital mortality rate for my presentation. I couldn’t go on living the way I was. Didn’t have a choice in my book.
It is possible I could achieve escape velocity as early as this Friday. If the wound completely heals and I can get home health care to admin my IV antibiotics I will bail.
As I told my surgeon; nothing but bad things happen to people that are flat on their backs in hospitals. He agreed.
I’ve learned the hard way that fresh hell’s pop up out of nowhere for me so everything has to go really slow. I’ve thought one day I had turned the corner only to have death come within a few minutes of snatching me away. I coded in my room when a tech tried to do an echocardiogram. Nothing gets your attention like your room filling with people screaming “Keith! Stay with us!†as they jump on top of you.
I am touched beyond what I can express in words by the kind words and prayers from you guys.
I hope to send a picture later.
One thing I am certain of: thor is going to have a really nice coal shoveling credit tacked on to his Book of Life. I laugh just looking at that monkey.
I’ve heard and come to believe God never gives us more than we can handle. If I think, ‘why me’, I come back to why not? I really want to know how this is going to turn out for me but some things are just in God’s hands. If I am lucky I will get out of here and face all kinds of new questions. Right now, the best shot is eventual AV node ablation and a pacemaker. A summer of rehab, and then Everest.
I am tired and must end this note. Thanks is not enough but it’s all I have to give right now.
burrhog,
Well, if a stuffed monkey makes you laugh you must be on the road to recovery.
I’ll just throw this out for you. My daughter’s boyfriend is a bio-medical engineer who specializes only in pacemakers. He has to be there for the surgeries. I know you will have lots of Doctors to talk to, but if you just want to chat online with Jeff, he is the sweetest most giving person you can imagine and he wouldn’t mind talking to you at all. Just let me know if that interests you later.
A summer of rehab, and then Everest
You sure playing a massive multiplayer online game is the best step for you? I mean sitting all those hours… oh sorry I misread.
They were just… with him. He knew they were there, and nothing needed to be said.
And then they spent the rest of the book telling him that if his life was hard, it was because God had cursed him, and that he really needed to engage in some serious introspection to pinpoint his every failing.
Prompting Job to exclaim “Miserable comforters are ye all.”  Job 16:2
Having had many miserable comforters in my time, I will also say nothing except that I am sorry that you have to go through all this.
Peace and comfort to you and yours…
Yeah they weren’t so great after that point, but the first week they did a wonderful job.