I am Iron Man

Not an Arc Reactor - Just a Pacemaker...

It had happened two or three times over the past ten years. And it usually occoured when I was under a lot of stress or dehydrated, and there were times during the summer when I did up to four shows a day. That involves four one hour shows, 45 minutes to set up and break down my gear, and an additional four hours for driving around the Twin Cities in rush hour summer and construction traffic. By the end of the day I'd be mentally and physically drained and once in a while I would feel a little dizzy - and then I'd start to sweat. I could feel it coming on, but 30 seconds later I'd end up on the floor. At that point, I knew something was wrong as I entered some kind of dream state, a bit like walking through a thick fog. It seemed timeless to me, but these episodes only lasted a couple of minutes, after which I would wake up with a confused look on my face, only to see my wife staring at me with wide eyes and a worried look. I'd say something like, "What's wrong? What happened? You're looking at me like someone died!" And she replied, "I thought you just did! What was wrong with you? Why did you pass out?" "I don't know," I said. "I guess I was really exhausted and tired, and then I felt a little dizzy, I started sweating, and ended up on the floor!" After my first ride in the ambulance, we sought treatment from professionals in a couple of medical fields. The consensus was usually that I was dehydrated and had a siezure. That made sense, and from then on I did my best to lighten up my work schedule and drink more water on those hot summer days. That seemed to help and I went more than a year without another incident. But on May 28th, Judy and I were having dinner at the Roadhouse in Apple Valley and had almost finished an enjoyable meal when I started experiencing the dizziness and began sweating, which was signaling another incident, but before I could say anything, I laid my head down on my plate and promptly fainted. It only lasted a few minutes, but when I came to, everyone sitting around us was staring at me and a 911 team was preparing to load me on to a strait-back to take me to the hospital. I was conscious and feeling weak, but had no trouble communicating with the 911 team as they took me out the front door and into the ambulance. Once we got underway, I was hooked up to a saline solution, as they checked my blood pressure and heart rate.

"Your heart rate was down to about 20 beats per minute; we were afraid we were going to lose you there. We've given you some atropine and that should bring your pulse back up," the attendant told me. And he was right - I quickly felt a whole lot better and was able to talk with the ambulance personnel and ask and answer questions. "What do you think caused this?" I asked. "We don't know right now, but we're taking you to the heart clinic at Southdale Fairview so we can figure it out." After a noisy and bumpy ride through evening rush hour traffic, we pulled into the hospital, I was moved to a table in the emergency room, and it looked like nearly 20 doctors, nurses and technicians were there to examine me. I felt pretty good at this point and wondered why there so many people surrounding me in the ER. "We bring everybody with the hospital heart health team on board when you're brought in so we can quickly assess your condition, try to figure out what's going on, and figure out what we can do to treat your condition," I was told. I had stabilized and was feeling pretty good, and they determined I was not in any serious danger so after about 15 minutes of tests and questions, most of the staff went back to their usual stations and I was left alone with one or two attendants. I was then wheeled into another room for a couple of chest x-rays and then returned to another ER room, where Judy joined me and we met with a heart specialist who went over what we knew so far, and discussed what would be the best way to ensure it never happens again. Based upon my recent history of a couple of similar incidents over the last several years, I asked, "What do you think causes these episodes? The last time it happened they thought I had had a seizure, brought about by dehydration and exhaustion, but that wasn't the case this evening." The doctor explained that, "We can't know for sure. But it does not seem to be a seizure, based upon what happened this evening during dinner. Sometimes there is no obvious cause or underlying condition, but there is one way to prevent it from ever happening again - you should think about getting a pacemaker."

My first reaction was, "Hell, no!" Being fairly ignorant about modern pacemakers, I imagined being opened up with a rib-splitter and undergoing serious surgery to install a device the size of a pack of cigarettes into my chest, with a long recovery during the busiest time of year and with 85 summer shows ahead of me. I also thought to myself, "I'm still pretty healthy, I'm not an old man, this is not what I want or need." Then I recalled that I was 73 - I had already outlived my parents by 23 years - and I was as close to being an "old man" as I wanted to admit. I mulled all of this over to myself, and then looked over at my wife and saw the fear, the love, and the thought that I could have left this mortal plane just a few hours ago, and I replied to the doctor, "Take me in, hook me up, and let's fix this problem." I spent the night alone, but received several visits from the nursing staff who put me at ease and kept me comfortable. I was nervous and didn't sleep well, but at the same time was excited to think that we might be on the way to fixing this problem once and for all. The procedure itself lasted no more than 20 minutes, was completely painless, and simply involved a small pacemaker device inserted under my skin with an electrical lead to my heart. I was lightly sedated and could hear the doctors going about their work, but was fully conscious through the procedure. The pacemaker itself was a small device which contained a battery that would last for the next 15 years.

I went home that afternoon feeling pretty darn good - all things considered - and was relieved to know that, whatever the cause was, it would never affect me again! All that was left to do now was to wait for the medical bills to start rolling in. And a couple of weeks later they began landing in our mailbox nearly every day. The medical, hospital, and health insurance systems in the United States have many problems, but my experience this summer was pretty damn amazing! I received first class care and treatment along with follow-up appointments and consultations via Medicare totaling more than $68,000, for which I was required to pay just $785.05. And I had enough money left over to buy myself an Iron Man Arc Reactor T-shirt that glows in the dark, to show my grandkids that I am ready, willing and able to continue my own fight for truth, justice and the American way!