Post by Paul S Person
On Tue, 22 Oct 2019 15:22:55 -0500, Lynn McGuire
and a three
down the road
Post by Lynn McGuire Post by William Hyde Post by Lynn McGuire Post by J. Clarke Post by Dorothy J Heydt Post by Lynn McGuire Post by Dorothy J Heydt Post by Paul S Person Post by Dorothy J Heydt
People see mountain lions in the East Bay hills quite often.
They (the people, not the cats) are warned not to run, but to
spread out their arms and look as large (=dangerous) as possible.
And, whatever you do, don't bend over.
You'll look like something to eat.
That's why you don't run.
Even if you are a runner. Because you are (by long evolutionary
process) a long-distance runner, and the cat is a sprinter.
That's good. I can't run anymore after my heart surgery last year, I
run out of breath almost immediately. No extra capacity left.
Even when you could run, you couldn't outrun a sprinter.
But I don't have to outrun the cat, I just have to outrun Lynn <evil
Just about anyone could outrun me beforehand. My heart problems
probably go back to birth.
I've traced mine, which sound very much like yours, back to my
great-grandfather who died suddenly at age 44 in 1880.
Post by Lynn McGuire Post by William Hyde
I'm happy to say that whatever it was, it is not present in the
younger generation. A cousin and I are the sole proprietors of this
particular genetic defect.
Post by Lynn McGuire
My great-grandfather who was born and raised in the late 1800s about 30
miles away from here, had a massive heart attack at the age of 55 and
never walked again. He had another heart attack at 57 and died. All of
my aunts, uncles, and cousins through him have heart problems by age 60.
One of my first cousins was born with a dime sized hole in his heart
which closed up by the time he was one. Sadly, he died a couple of
years ago from esophageal cancer at the age of 44.
Another of our first cousins was born with a quarter sized hole in her
heart and was a blue baby. They operated on her at Texas Childrens
Hospital at 3 days and closed the hole. The hole opened again at age 11
and she had successful open heart surgery again. Now at 50, she is
having afib like me and is trying to ignore it. But she does not have
the tachycardia with the afib like I did.
So, the heart issues are being passed from generation to generation.
Used to be, when they got bad enough, they killed the carrier before
reproduction and so were removed from circulation.
But, thanks to Modern Medicine, they can now survive and (together
with the people they afflict) multiply.
So it appears we (sometimes) tend to value people as human beings
who might add something to our culture, history, or just ordinary
lives, rather that as carriers for successful genes, which is
certainly what our genes would say if they could speak.
Post by Paul S Person
Still, all things considered, we are probably better off /with/ Modern
Medicine (even the dollar-chasing pill-pushing version we have in the
USA) than without it.
Oh yes. Since we're talking about heart trouble:
When my son was born he had some heart trouble that the doctors
couldn't figure out; he was getting very low blood oxygen levels,
and they rushed him over to Children's Hospital of the East Bay
and put him in an isolette and gave him lots of O2.
When we saw him, the following morning, we followed the
hospital's custom, which was "Parents, on-hand twenty-four
hours a day, except during medical procedures; put on a mask and
gown and go right in." We went in, passing three tiny little
preemies under heat lamps, and there was Tris, all eleven pounds
one ounce of him, his head and feet up against the isolette
(which was designed for preemies), wired up from guggle to zatch.
Every now and then he'd wave his hand around and grab one of the
wires and pull an electrode loose, and alarms would go off and
all the staff would jump to see what had happened ... and
reattach the electrode and shut off the alarm. By the second
day, they were saying, "WHAT!? Oh, it's just baby Heydt again,
finish what you're doing, Suzie, and reattach him."
But the doctors still couldn't figure out what was wrong with
him, they were afraid it was transposition of the great vessels,
which was a SERIOUS complication demanding open-heart surgery,
which they weren't anxious to attempt until he was at least a
So they ran a catheter up his femoral artery and discovered that
it was "persistence of the fetal circulation," which meant that
the opening between his two ventricles hadn't closed when he was
born the way it was supposed to. But the nudge from the catheter
somehow caused the opening to close, and for the next couple of
days it was "Oh, here's baby Heydt's blood gases, hmm, yes, take
him down another five percent and take another sample." By the
end of the week he was breathing room air and presently the
cardiologist wrote on the chart, "Treat as cardiacally normal."
But if it hadn't been for all that modern (well, forty-odd years
ago) medical stuff, he would most likely have died. He's now
(arithmetic in head) 44 and doing nicely.
Dorothy J. Heydt
djheydt at gmail dot com