Category Archives: Healthcare

Of Love And Asthma II: The Literal Version

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A wise man once said, omne trium perfectum. [Good post, that one. Deserved more comments.]

Things that come in threes are (1) inherently funnier, (2) more satisfying, or (3) more effective than other numbers of things.

Friendoftheblogron and I both poured scorn on this idea, but it turns out there might be something in it. Both on a micro (and a macro) level. So let’s clear the last of the asthma trilogy off the decks before we start the countdown to Strokiversary.

Strokiversary: Widely considered to be one of the most important and influential composers of the 20th century.

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Of Love And Asthma

All Asthmatics, being angry or sad,
do fall into Fits oftener than when
they are cheerful
Sir John Floyer, A Treatise of the Asthma — 1698

Proust cropped up in the blog a while ago. I’ve never read any of his stuff, I have to admit. But I have discovered that he suffered his first asthma attack at the age of nine, and thereafter was considered a sickly child. The pneumonia that finally killed him followed asthma brought on by the young Samuel Beckett’s cigar-smoking. I’ve seen him referred to as “the asthma poet”.

I thought you were going to call this post, “A la recherche de la respiration perdu”.

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The Power Of Three

They say catastrophes come in threes. Today, the cistern went berserk and flooded the bathroom, the printer refused to print text (although images were fine), and the portable heater that was meant to dry out the bathroom took a stroke. Also, The Care Bears Movie, Care Bears Movie II: A New Generation and The Care Bears Adventure in Wonderland.

Not everyone agreed with the BBC’s choices to play Stroke Bloke, Paw Broon and Beth

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Revenge Of The (Man Or) Cyberman – Part The Second

On Monday, I returned to Methodist yet again for the removal of the ambulatory EEG wires. It’s always kinda good to go back, ‘cos everyone’s always very nice, and particularly since I have no memory of the original stay. We walked past the more undercover, apartment building-esque, side of Methodist the other day, and Beth was able to point out my old window and related that the ward had a pretty nice view. It wasted on me, though.

Passages Malibu looks nothing like the advert!”

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Revenge Of The (Man Or) Cyberman

So, after a very pleasant Friday lunch special at Sotto Voce with Diesel (try the fusilli with four cheese cream sauce and chopped walnuts — delicious), we headed a block south to our home from home at Methodist Hospital (The Presbyterian Church of Wales, M.C. Escher, etc.) for me to get fitted up with my ambulatory EEG. Actually, the last time Escher was mentioned in these parts was in relation to our last visit to the social security offices in Brooklyn. Nevertheless, Methodist has a similar Ascending and Descending vibe after you pass through the patients’ and visitors’  entrance to the main building. Beth noted that this is probably directly related to the fact that the hospital is built on a (park) slope. And, unlike at the broo, the approach seems to be deliberate.

Hullawrrer. Again.
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Sheer Human Magnetism

It’s been too long since we had a good old-fashioned, bread and butter medical post, right?  You can’t beat a good bit of medical testing.  Unless you’re a bunny, of course.  Or a cat.  Blimey, our cats got “chipped” the other week, and it seemed horribly traumatizing.  Kinda rammed home the point that vegetarianism was a good choice, when you see how the animals reacted to simply being wrapped tightly in a towel by the nice vet man.  And having microchips fired into their legs.  But human testing?  Now you’re talking!

Stroke Bloke, earlier today.
He wishes.

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Reefer Madness

If you read Time magazine, you may be under the impression that smoking marijuana increases one’s risk of stroke.  To quote the relevant article, “[i]n one presentation to the American Stroke Association’s International Stroke Conference, researchers from the University of Auckland in New Zealand found an increased risk of stroke among those smoking marijuana compared to those who did not.”

Researchers at Auckland University, yesterday

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The Cure / Not The Cure, or, My Aneurysm

This past Friday, I resumed my conversation with mortality.  It had been on the way, I suppose, since Beth had first mentioned what a pleasant time she’d had attending her first aneurysm awareness meeting.  I’ve since been to one myself, and discovered from fellow attendees that a ruptured aneurysm is quite similar to a hemorrhagic stroke.  That is, getting wheeled into the ER, unresponsive, late on a weekend evening, with potentially catastrophic results, and, generally, something to be avoided.  Anyway, I guess that was Beth’s way of gently getting me used to the fact that the work-ups from my stroke had revealed that I had at least one aneurysm. Continue reading The Cure / Not The Cure, or, My Aneurysm

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