Sis Boom Bah

The repercussions
Of a cardiac arrest,
It gives you an opportunity
To challenge the last test,
In the course of your life
To discover who you are,
Did you study enough
To at least make par?

Statistics aren't great
For immediate survival,
Not many folks
Make a hospital arrival,
About 11 percent
Live on, for more action,
But only 8 percent can claim
No brain subtraction.

Sudden Cardiac Arrest
In two thousand eleven,
More than 400 thousand
Trying to go to heaven,
That 11 percent survival rate
Is nothing to whistle about,
Unless your objective was
To become a bean sprout.

How to improve on
Your risk of demise?
Have a Defibrillator near
For the big surprise,
Strap one to your back
Or just vote them into use,
You might need one in the future
When you're playing caboose.

With a shockable rhythm
At your witnessed arrest,
Those are two of the ingredients
For passing the test,
Where the helpful Good Samaritan
Grabs the A-E-D,
Follows the idiot-proof instructions
Thinking, "I'm glad it's not me".

Now your chances of survival
Increased 300 percent,
That's nothing to sneeze at
For living intent,
Where the balance of the crowd
Will continue on to heaven,
Looking for George Carlin
At the Seven Eleven.

A-E-D
Like la-dee-da,
Increases opportunity
For sis-boom-bah,
Though occasionally not
For the moron's in the crowd,
The Methamphetamine user
No longer endowed,
With a functional brain
In his meth-adjusted head,
One more drug user
Dead on the bed.

All in all
It is best to avoid,
Because cardiac arrest
Will make you unemployed,
Your wife and kids won't like that
'Cuz even if you survive,
Everyone will wonder
How long you'll stay alive,
And consider the option called
Neurological dysfunction,
It leaves you sitting on the couch
Watching Petticoat Junction.

Cardiac Arrest
Is a life changing event,
If you don't fly off to heaven
Say your prayers and repent.

Cardiac Arrest Rant

Playing in the ICU arena again, almost every week there is another victim of a Cardiac Arrest, in lieu of a new Heart attack (STEMI). Four instances, and the victims were under the age of 60. Surprise, surprise, the 36 & 50 year old showed Methamphetamine on the Urine Tox screen. Three men and one woman, all were smokers. Mr. 46 & 57, looked at least ten years older than stated age. The 50 year old was obese, and had "just" learned two months ago that they had Hypertension, CHF, Asthma and Diabetes. I think it is safe to assume, the Asthma is really COPD secondary to smoking.

What's my point? All of these conditions are acquired and caused by personal health choices. In our metropolitan area there are billboards touting the importance of taking care of one's heart, making good food choices and stop smoking. All of us have been beaten over the head for the past 40 years, regarding what's good for us. But folks continue to do whatever they heck they want. Oh ya, out of the crew previously mentioned, only one had a job, and that was cleaning houses. Hence, not one of them had any insurance better than Medi-Cal. That means the rest of us employed folks, are footing the bill through our tax dollars. 

Deep-Sixed

Quite frankly, having no new ideas in a month had me thinking my creativity had been deep-sixed. Then I realized, I'm back working in Adult ICU territory, and that is the location of inspiration!

Not writing very much
In the most recent epoque,
Nothing so exciting
As to marvel and shock,
Though my triumphant return
To the land of I-C-U,
Is an eye opening reminder
About the words that are due.

Very little has changed
In the past five years,
Just a couple new drugs
The same sicknesses, poor dears,
Undergoing restorations
That fail the final test,
Instead of gaining new life
They discover eternal rest.

Those statistics are shuffled
Into the middle of the deck,
Sure, they learn about risks
And what to expect,
In the one to two weeks
Of anticipated post-op,
Your recovery expectation?
To home, you will hop.

Surgery was well done
A valve and two bypasses,
Up in the chair the next day
With your dentures and glasses,
But then Atrial Fib
Sent a clot to your brain,
Ninety days later
You're on the comfort care train.

The operation was successful
Your heart problem was fixed,
Unfortunately, your future
Was slowly deep-sixed.

3/24/26

Oops you're dead

Once again my NY Resolution is to better organize the writings, and I run across stuff that seems to have remained just as good as it was back in 1992.

Cruising Heaven

A mysterious event

Happened just today,

The man said, "I don't feel so good"

Then his heart beat went away.

I told him not to do that

But he didn't seem to care,

His heart rate slowed dramatically

Until it wasn't there.

With bells and buzzers ringing

We wailed upon that man,

His color went from purple

To a lovely desert tan.

He received a hit of Atropine

Some Calcium and Epi,

He replied with tachy rhythms

But his pump just wasn't peppy.

With the force of seven doctors

And the strength of twenty nurses,

Collectively their aura

Dispelled the evil curses,

That bound him to his destiny

In a room without a view,

Now he's cruising heaven's highways

With an angel friend or two.

1992