Welcome to our new diarist!

Welcome to the PHC Diaries, Jo Williams!

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The clock ticks much too loudly...

Dear Diary, (I like this... it's so impersonal, yet VERY personal)

I have noticed at night that the clock ticks a lot louder. I swear my hearing is diminishing, but I can really hear that clock. Last night as I lay in bed after my second hot shower (it sometimes helps the leg pain) I realized that I count along with the clock... the clock that is measuring the passing of my life. I don't know why I do this... it's not as if there is a tally sheet somewhere to review at a later time. I suppose I have turned this ritual into a "counting sheep" exercise. <shrug> Who knows? I have stopped questioning my actions since I went insane a few years back.

I told my Aunt Irene (who is 87 and in great health!) that I had not visited her much because frankly (with all my stress), I had gone insane. She said, "I thought you had already BEEN insane - way back when you married that musician!" I laughed and explained, "Well, that IS true, Aunt Irene. I DID go insane, but I liked it so well, I bought a return trip ticket."

I will post some pictures when I have more energy!

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Let me introduce myself...

Dear Diary,

Well, I forgot to introduce myself in my initial posting. <blushing>

I am Jo Williams. I am 54 years old and I live in Cowpens, South Carolina. I'm so Southern that I actual reside in the very same farmhouse my GREATgrandmother built in the late 1800's.

I was diagnosed with PPH in December 2005. Prior to that, I was stricken with Relapsing Polychondritis and Tracheomalcia. (The doctor thinks there is no connection to PPH.) <eyeroll>

I got this disease (PPH) because being thin was going to make me healthier. At the time I had no health problems - just obesity... so I took the Phen/Fen. What a deadly choice! :(  Guess what? ... I'm still obese, but NOW I have something to REALLY worry about. (Looking good seems less important than it used to.) I have a husband of 10 years, a biological daughter who is 32 and a biological granddaughter (14.)

My first daughter was killed in a car crash 20 years ago. Her father managed to drink himself to death following her death.

I remarried in 1997. My stepdaughter was murdered in June 2006. My living daughter has Fibromyalgia and an inoperable pituitary tumor. Her only child has a partial intestine because she had to have 9 feet removed at Duke. (Due to a double bowel obstruction.) Last December, my husband (50) had his first heart attack, and he is the picture of health. (You can never tell.)

Our family knows tragedy and illness all too well. Do you understand WHY I cannot tell them what is happening to me? I put on a real good front.

Does anyone else do this?

I'm glad I found you. I needed to whine... and I promise that will not become a habit with me. Thank you for your ear.

Jo :)

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A new day...

Dear Diary,

The weather is nice here today. I would like to be outdoors pretending to clean up the yard... uh, field. I don't really have a lawn... we just kinda cut back some brush, built some new steps, propped up the old mailbox and called this old farmhouse "home." Living here is... "interesting." I swear, if the temperature drops to 31.5, SOMETHING freezes that requires an engineering degree to repair! Luckily, my husband is an engineer. Unluckily, he has no passion for placing a bandaid on a leaking dam. (That's what it's like living in a 125 year old house.) No matter what we repair, we can be sure that something else is breaking simutaneously.

My question: Am I the only victim of PH who is THIS exhausted??? Is this normal??? Sometimes I contemplate changing the sheets later than walking to the bathroom. I actually have never gone through with it because I hate being wet. (HaHaHa)

Oh... and does anyone else have episodes of sleep paralysis... it's where you are awake, but you can't open your eyes or move your limbs or even speak. (This might be related to my narcolepsy - but it did not develop until the PH got worse.)

Thanks guys...

Jo Williams :)

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Depression... Not tropical... Just the regular kind.

Dear Diary, <~~~ Personification soon to come!

I'm thinking of a name to call my diary. In my teen years, my diary was called Trixie. (After Trixie Belton - a character with her own series of books.) My uppity cousin read the Nancy Drew series. They were more expensive and had a greater following, but that's another story...

On February 1, we had an ice storm. It was not bad. The 1 or 2 inch snowfall was really very pretty and the ice melted quickly. HOWEVER...

I am living in this ancient farmhouse. It doesn't have remarkable upgrades. A lot of work needs to be done to make this place comfortable.

Have you ever got out of bed, looked around, realized that no matter what you did that it really wouldn't be that much better? Then you simply went back to bed and pulled the covers over your head...  Well, color me hopeless.

I am unable to perfrom miraculous acts. Hey... don't laugh. I used to pull some serious stunts when I needed to! Being a procrastinator, I would wait until the day before a party, then swing into action. Somehow or the other, I was able to prepare food for 20, fashion a centerpiece out of old coffee cans and crepe paper, locate/wash/display china, silver, and crystal, and have candles lit and music playing when the guests arrived.

Fast forward: February 3, 2007

Today I slept (or at least stayed in bed) until after noon. When I managed to get out of bed, I got tired walking the 15 steps to the bathroom. I considered brushing my teeth, but decided to wait. Otis (my blind cat) alerted me to the fact that he had no one to play with by clawing me until I bled. The girl canines were out in the compound. Apparently my husband had put them out before going to bed this AM when he got home. Murray, our smallest dog was sleeping in a chair. Otis came from the bathroom and tried to find Murray, but with no success.

The kitchen is a mess. Silverware is dirty and in the sink. The doggie water bowl is empty and the outside cats are screaming for food. Hubby is sleeping soundly in the "rock star" room - so named because there are no windows in there and it is very dark all the time.

I kicked a couple of dishes over to the pet dining area. I considered sweeping the kitchen, but sat in the recliner instead. I surveyed the surroundings. Everything in this house is a mess. If it isn't broken, it's dirty... AND some things are broken AND dirty.

I am in no mood to wash silverware before I prepare breakfast for one.

I filled the inside pet dishes with food and water. I slipped and slid on the icy deck to feed and water the outside pets.

Then I played "Word-o" my favorite computer game.

Still no food. Still no juice. Tested blood sugar. I really should feed and water myself.

F*** it...   I'm going back to bed.

Jo :(

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Phen-Fen and PPH Court Cases

Dear Diary, <~~~ Will someone think of a more personal name??

It really upsets me every time I think about how I ended up with primary pulmonary hypertension...

You see, it was ten years ago and I was in for an office visit with my pulmonologist. Although my asthma was well controlled and I felt just great, he approached the subject of weight loss with me.

"Now that you are off steroids after 12 years of continued use, perhaps it is the time for you to think about losing some weight. It will improve your overall health, and will give you more physical endurance."

There was nothing wrong with my health except asthma and occasionally a case of acute bronchitis. I told the doctor that I would try to follow any advice he gave me because he had indeed saved my life by helping to make me steroid free. (I honestly felt like he had kept me from dying from the side effects of prednisone.)

So, I took my prescription for Phen-Fen and went merrily on my way.

Over the course of the next few years, I developed sleep apnea, narcolepsy, restless leg syndrome, tracheomalacia, relapsing polychondritis, diabetes secondary to an IV antibiotic, a bone tumor of the lower leg, and of course - PPH.

I lost weight. I WAS steriod free when I began my weight loss plan. I could exercise. I controlled my appetite with drugs. I had energy and except for some tachycardia that was unexplained at the time, my health was the best it had been in years.

Temporarily.

Things began to unravel. First, I developed leg pains. I stepped on a plastic razor and though the wound was small, I developed osteomyelitis. I continually had bronchitis. I started developing edema in both legs. My breathing was simply awful. I had to begin the steroids again. Large amounts of steroids. When I asked the doctor if the diet drugs caused any of my problems, he emphatically said, "No."

I stopped taking the pills anyway. I had swallowed the Phen-Fen every day for a little over three months. I don't even recall how much weight I lost. I didn't care, because I was sick.

For the next few years, I had strange health problems. I was sick but no one knew why. I was off and on steroids. I took a ton of drugs in an attempt to find something to help my deteriorating condition. Anything the specialists wanted me to try, I did so willingly. I was desperate.

Then came the echos. And the lung scans. And the heart cath.

Then came the news.

You would think that I would be called in with my husband to discuss my diagnosis and treatment options. That did not happen. I was in the doctor's office. The echo had been done a month earlier. I thought it was fine since I had heard nothing to the contrary. The pulmonologist was getting ready to send me to have my legs wrapped to control the edema when his assistant pointed to my chart and said, "Doctor, have you seen this echo report?"

Well, he glanced at it and said, "I'm sorry to tell you this, but you have pulmonary hypertension. Don't worry though, because you can take Viagra and it will help you."

I was alone. Because I have a medical background and because I had been proactive in trying to keep myself from dying the last decade, I KNEW I was in trouble.

My husband waited in the truck. I got in the truck and handed him the check out sheet. I said, "I have pulmonary hypertension." He said, "No way." We both cried. I did not have a follow-up appointment. We sat in the parking lot trying to think.

A few days later I got a call from a cardiologist who wanted to schedule me for a right sided cath. I declined his offer because it was the week of Thanksgiving.

So, in February of last year, I had the cath. No turning back. I knew for sure.

While reading online, I found a quote from the CEO of American Home Products who flooded the market with Phen-Fen while KNOWING it killed people or caused severe damage to otherwise healthy adults. Still, they lied to the FDA and to physicians all over the country about the safety of this miracle diet drug.

I don't remember his exact words, but the man who made a billion dollars from Phen-Fen said something like, "So we killed a few fat people. All in all, it was a safe drug."

I have an attorney. The settlements are "substantial" if Phen-Fen caused your PPH. However, very few people live to see the money.  Oh, I love this condition too... When you do receive the settlement, the amount cannot be disclosed. I hate that. I wish that all the damaged people could go to the press and announce, "That pompous CEO had to pay me 2.5 million bucks!" But then, I'm sure that whatever they are paying, it is a drop in the bucket compared to the money the drug company continues to make.

I know this was long. But I want to know...

Does anyone else have a case pending against American Home Products? (now it is Wyeth) They had a name change following their little Phen-Fen fiasco! 

If you know anything about the time line of settlements, please let me know.

Thank you.

Jo Williams :)

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The Albino Porch Possum

Dear Diary,

  Valentine's Day. I told Les to forget about it. He works long hours and is interested only in coming home and falling into bed.

  When I got up for the morning chores, there was one perfect rose on the bar. It was a beautiful shade of pink. There was a card from Les, the dogs, and Blind Otis.

  "Blind Otis" is our special indoor cat. We have farm cats, attic cats, and Otis. Our granddaughter named Otis when he was a few weeks old. I knew he had no vision because his pupils were dilated and nonreactive. We tried to let Otis live outside, but it became clear that the other cats were bullies and Otis was not thriving as he should.

  Otis lived in the bathroom for a couple of weeks. He loved it instantly. He felt safe. He became quite the attack cat at night when we interrupted his sleep for potty privileges.

  When Otis got large enough, we introduced him to our 125 pound wolf, Valley. She is so maternal. It took her awhile to realize it, but now she knows that Otis is visually impaired and she plays games with him that he can understand. She brings a plastic grocery bag to him. Then she steps on it, making it rattle. She drags the bag around for Otis to follow. She also knows that Otis is more fragile than wolf cubs. She has learned to reposition him with her muzzle so as not to injure him. They are something to watch. Valley is in love with little Blind Otis. The three dogs like Otis... but they basically tolerate him. It's Valley who thinks he is grand.

  So, there I was... looking out on the front porch to see if the farm cats had a good supply of dry food and warm water. (Oh, they have a heated house as well.)

  For the last three years, our farmhouse has become preferred lodging for a passle of possums. I'm not sure they are in the same family, but they visit with great regularity. We have had grey possums, black possums, brownish looking possums, but what I saw on the porch was not normal. Or at least not average as far as our possums go.

  We are now the proud keepers of an albino possum! I understand that in the opossum world, albinoes are not that uncommon, but I had never seen one. It was remarkable. He has the pinkest nose and feet. His eyes are red...literally red. His fur looks like I think a polar bear's fur looks... not really that much like a rodent's fur.

  The cats seem to like the possum population around here. They eat out of the same bowls. Drink from the same water dishes. They don't fuss or fight. And I have learned that possums cannot carry rabies. That's a good thing. (Couldn't you hear Martha Stewart pointing out the positive things of rogue possums???)

  A raccoon lives in the barn. I'm not fond of him. He scares me. Actually he scares the wolf. LOL LOL  He is large and angry... not the wolf... the raccoon.

  Oh, and the snake... We had a seven foot black snake to fall from our bedroom bookshelf. The poor thing was so scared. My granddaughters nearly fainted. I called Daddy who assured me that the snake would not bite me. I got oven mitts on and went to pick the snake up. The phone rang and it was Mama. "Honey, don't be playing with snakes. You could get hurt." Mama was 70 at the time... I was forty or so. We relocated the snake to the barn. Hmm... I hope he eats that nasty raccoon!

  The weather is warming up. I'm looking forward to the weekend. Have fun and stay warm!!!

Jo :)

  <~~~ our newest porch possum

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Gatlinburg trip with the girls

 

We went to Gatlinburg before I got too tired to travel. This is a picture of Ashlee, me standing behind Haley, Jessica to my left and Keeley peeking out from behind her mom. We had a good time. I am glad we went!

 

 

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Death of Jenni Messel

I am devastated. Jenni was an intelligent, vibrant, compassionate loving person.

She will be missed... not just by family and friends, but by the SC PHer's.

Jenni ... you were simply the best ! !

Jo Williams

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Jenni Messel (Pictures included)

I am still reeling from the news that Jenni is gone.

So many of you have been exceptional and I appreciate your warm words and support.

I am ashamed to admit that I depended on Jenni too much. She was my beacon. My safety net. I would say, "Oh, please, you would not believe how many things that Jenni has going on. It will not kill me to paint this room!" I got out of bed a lot of times because Jenni Messel was out of bed and in the world making a difference.

Thank you Janie Moran for sharing these pictures of Jenni.

Jo Williams

Jenni Messel and Janie Moran
Atlanta Conference 2005

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Repost: Picture of Janie and Jenni

Jenni Messel and Janie Moran at the Atlanta Conference in 2005.

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What If ??? A lot of questions...

Dear Diary,

No one knows this secret. No one. A month or so ago, I became so agitated by the side effects of Revatio that I quit taking it. I was taking it three times a day, and factually, I cannot discern an appreciable difference in how I am breathing... but of course, the side effects stopped.

I was called by a clinical trial nurse. She and my doctor wanted to start me on Tracleer along with the Revatio. I told her I had taken the drug sporadically but I was supposed to take it for three months and call her back. I didn't do that.

When I got out of the hospital the first week in November, I had a return appointment with the pulmonologist. I never went back. I called a PH specialist in Duke, but I have to have a referral from the lung doc. When I mentioned Duke, the lung doc discouraged me. He said, "You are looking for miracles. They can do nothing more there than we are doing here." I said, "Whatever." I have to admit, my pulmonologist IS really close with Dr. Tapson, and even the doctor that Jenni was seeing in Charleston. I don't know, however, if he has treated a lot of people with PPH.

What is wrong with me that I refuse to acknowledge this disease? I simply have willed it to leave my body, and am dumb enough to hope that it has.

I will never be transplanted. I am not a good candidate for that. PPH is not my only terminal illness.

Do I really have options? I am so afraid of these drugs. Remember, guys...  a prescription drug GAVE me this condition.

Are you scared?

Is it possible to simply "drop dead" with this PPH? I won't ask the doctor. I don't want to hear what he has to say.

Will I actually KNOW when it's time to give up?

No one in the entire hospital would ever tell me the life expectancy of someone with PPH. When I said that I had read it was between 3 and 5 years, Dr. Feldman said, "Well, that's impossible. You have had it longer than that." He did not elaborate, and I don't know why he said that. Some questions, you just don't want to ask.

One poster said...  "We don't look sick..."

Well, I guess that's what I'm banking on...  no one asks questions about my health because I look fine.

What do you think? Do you think that 5 years seems about right?

What if you refuse Flolan?

Thank you.

Jo Williams

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Jenni Messel's Final Arrangements

Jenni Messel

Jenni Messel, 29, of 6405 Greenfield Drive, passed away Friday, February 16, 2007, at the Medical University of South Carolina. Born September 12, 1977, in Burlington, NC, she was the wife of David Messel and the daughter of Wayne and Penney Cline of Landrum and Phil Ray Yarbrough of Burlington, NC. She was a graduate of Spartanburg Technical College and founder of the PH Support Group of South Carolina.

Also surviving is a brother, Phillip Ray Yarbrough, Jr. of Landrum; a step-son, Adam Nicholas Messel of Spartanburg; siblings, Dalton, Renee', Daniel, and Nathan; and grandparents, Billy and Jessie Hodgson, Colene Yarbrough, and Emily Cline.

A visitation and memorial service will be held 2-4:00 p.m. Saturday, February 24, 2007, at the home, 6405 Greenfield Drive, Spartanburg.

Memorials may be made to the Pulmonary Hypertension Association, 801 Roeder Road, Suite 400, Silver Springs, MD 20910.

An online guest register is available at www.floydmortuary.com.

Floyd's North Church Street Chapel

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I am sick of Sleep Studies!

Dear Diary,

After hours of pain and breathing trouble, I had to call my husband to come home from work. I knew I would either have to go to the ER, or be in the doctor's office when it first opened, and that Les (husband) would need a bit of sleep to function.

I could NOT get a deep breath. Lying down was impossible. I smothered. I tried everything. The pain in my legs was intolerable... so much so, that I considered Morphine but settled for the Lortab and Requip.

I told the doctor of my concern regarding my ever enlarging liver. He said, "I am not that familiar with livers. But, I will send you for an enzyme study." (eye roll) Yeah, that blood test will give you volumes of info, I thought cynically. I won't see the rheumatologist until the 12th, and he seems knowledgeable about the liver.

Regarding my breathing, he said, "Well, there is no wheezing. I KNOW what is wrong with you. The tracheomalcia is discernable by stethescope. The PH is not getting better, you know. Essentially, there is nothing you can do except maybe lose some weight."

I said, "Do I need to remind you that I GAINED 18 pounds in TWO freaking weeks? That this ascites does not respond to diet and Lasix? And YOU said I can no longer do aerobic exercise? Also, I have this uncontrollable blood sugar that doesn't allow me the luxury of conventional dieting. What am I supposed to do?"

I swear he said this... "What you need is a new sleep study! We are going bi-valve this time!"

I wanted to attack him. Literally. Les would not even look at me. When the doctor left the room, I broke down.

God, I am sick of sleep studies! Do they order a sleep study when they don't know what else to do????

At least the sleep study is done at the Marriott and I will have such a night of "luxury." If only I DID NOT have a thousand wires attached to my head, sleeping while being filmed, and having to ask permission to pee during the night...

We know I have sleep apnea AND narcolepsy. What in Hell's Kitchen do they hope to learn by this "study?"

I think I will cancel it. It's not like it's going to enrich my life.

Jo

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I canceled ALL testing!

Dear Diary,

 Well, I told you I was sick of testing. Not only did I cancel the sleep study; I also canceled the liver function studies.

  I go to my rheumatologist on Monday, and I have decided to present him with my worsening breathing. He and my pulmonologist totally disagree on other aspects of my illnesses/treatments, so maybe he will have a better idea of WHY a sleep study/liver study are needed. (If they ARE needed.)

   The 21st anniversary of my daughter's death was a couple of days ago. I am beginning to feel "closer" to her and more distanced from the people living around me. I wonder what this is all about. I have accepted her death. I "let her go" long ago. Realizing I was simply going to lose my mind by longing for her, I pulled myself together so my living daughter and (now) granddaughter could have the best of me.Someone suggested that perhaps she is close by to give me comfort. I'm not sure I believe that, but it is an odd sensation.

   Jessica (daughter) has Fibromyalgia and was diagnosed with Lupus long ago; although she tests negative for the Lupus now. (Thank God!) So, we are going to the rheumatologist together on Monday to gang up on him!  :)

   Another thing... Depression

   Do any of you take depression medication? I did for years, but for some reason, I weaned myself off of it and seemed to do just fine without it. (I am not big on mediciations!) So, I popped a Prozac today. Let's see if things get rosier for me.

   Also, the Revatio that I agreed to TRY once more gave me horrible headaches. Without PROOF that the Revatio is working in my favor, I cannot willingly inflict that type of pain upon myself.

   I have been told I am not TRYING hard enough to beat this PPH. I honestly don't know what else I CAN do. It seems that just waking up another day is enough proof that I am trying. <shrug>

   My anniversary was the 6th. Les sent me a dozen roses. They were all arranged and are still very beautiful. I used to dislike cut flowers because it seemed so needless to destroy them and take them away from their "natural" element. Now I love the occasional live arrangement to grace our dinner table... okay... our BAR. (Why do we even have dining rooms?)

   Les and I went out for an "early bird" dinner. I swear, there were people still having lunch! LOL LOL  Les's shift begins at 8:00 PM and goes until 7:00 AM, so a 4:30 "dinner" is not odd compared to his schedule. He probably wanted breakfast, but ate steak instead. I even ordered us a dessert to split... not because I was still hungry, but I was being defiant. I remembered that someone told me, "People on the Titanic waved away the dessert cart!" So, it was MY anniversary, and I was NOT going to deny myself a bite of pecan encrusted apple pie with hand churned vanilla bean ice cream. (I don't like ice cream on my pie, but Les does, so he ate that part.) Oh, and we had handmade honey croissants with our salads. I'm sure I should have died during the night, but alas, here I am. :)

   What a long and rather boring diary entry! Well, too bad. I can't be Louisa May Alcott EVERY day.

Jo :)

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When will this kill us?

I want to know when this PH kills us. How do we know that we are nearing the end? 

I went to the rheumatologist. I told him what happened to Jenni. He said, "That is how this disease is. One day you are fine, and the next - you're gone."

Is THAT true? There is no "winding down" process? We simply wake up dead?

Has anyone else been told this?

I'm sick of hearing that it is the "disease process" whenever I am experiencing something different or unusual.

Now I'm being told that the disease process' nature is to drop you dead with no warning.

Good Lord...  am I ever going to hear anything POSITIVE from these medical people????

Jo :(

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They killed me - and now they might not have to pay!

Dear Diary,

The Fen-phen lawyer called me. Because I have sleep apnea, there might be a problem with my claim that the diet drug is responsible for the PH.

Keep in mind that my echo was COMPLETELY normal prior to taking the fen-phen. After the fen-phen, the echo showed changes, and the last echo showed the PH. (Which was confirmed by RSC.)

I cannot believe this! A major pharmaceutical company knowingly maimed and killed thousands of people, but they can escape having to pay because they are allowed to blame this illness on something else???

How many people with sleep apnea actually develop PH? (Please note that MOST people who took fen-phen have also been diagnosed with sleep apnea...  I, for one, think this is terribly convenient for the drug company!)

 I DO know that my sleep apnea is mild to moderate and I DO know in my very soul that the fen-phen is responsible for this illness.

I am quite upset by this information and of course my "wonderful, supportive" attorney is now trying to hand me off to a lesser lawyer because he no longer smells BIG bucks.

grrrrrrrr....   I HATE drug companies... and just in case I haven't mentioned it in awhile...  I HATE lawyers.

Jo :(

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"Curve Balls"

Dear Diary,

Do you still remember me? This update has been a long time coming.

May 1, 2007, my husband, Les, suffered a third heart attack. He was working at the time and attempted to drive himself to the hospital. They wasn't wise. He eventually had to stop at a gas station and call an ambulance. The doctor later told me that the type of attack Les suffered is usually discovered in autopsy. That did not make me feel comfortable.

While Les was in the hospital undergoing a stint placement, I slipped into respiratory failure, so we were both in the same hospital at the same time -- but in totally different areas. It made my daughter's visitation task quite tiring. Les visited me more often than I visited his room. I simply had no air.

We both came home from the hospital and were working on getting well. My cousin came down to scrape a layer of dirt off my floors on May 22. The three of us went out to lunch. Dee (cousin) and I decided to drive into town to pick up some cleaning supplies and Les drove his truck back home because he needed to rest.

As we were checking out, I got a panic call from Les. "Our house is on fire!" Dee and I ditched our shopping carts and ran to the parking lot. We were 14 miles away, and I could see the smoke from my house fire. The closer we got, the worse it got. Flames. Black smoke.

I could not reach Les by phone. The house phone, of course, was totally out. He had left his cell phone in the house. I did not know if he had survived to get out of the fire. I did not know if my pets were dead or alive. I had no idea if the fire department had arrived in time to save anyone or anything.

It was a long drive. Dee and I prayed aloud the entire trip. Everything was lost. Les managed to get out. Otis, our cat, perished in the fire. He was blind, so we figured he hid because he was afraid. The dogs were out in the fenced in back yard. Les physically pulled a pole from the ground, allowing all four dogs to escape out into the neighborhood. (That was very scary! But they all came back within an hour and huddled close to us. They were so confused and terrified!)

The only things Les got out of the house were 2 laptop computers. The one that belonged to his employer and the one his dad left him. We were happy to have at least a computer. But my book and all of the songs Les and I wrote were lost on the other computer.

:( 

We were grateful that our dogs were alive. We were very grateful that Les didn't die in the fire and that he got out before succombing to smoke inhalation.

We were thankful for the 55 firemen who tried to save our property and were appreciative that they managed to keep the fire from burning the entire 50 wooded acres. We lost 2 acres of trees, but did not lose the barn or utility building.

Les's condition worsened after the fire. He was hospitalized again in June. During his second heart surgery, our computer was stolen from our vehicle which was parked in a guarded heart center parking lot.

While he was recovering at our temporary residence, our utility was broken into and we were robbed of everything that made it through the fire.

However, I was able to lease a small house with a great fenced in back yard, and our dogs became very comfortable very quickly. THAT was so important.

Les is now permanently disabled. His heart disease is massive. We are expecting (any day) for him to have to undergo bypass surgery. The good thing is, he was approved for his SS disability within 3 weeks! That is unheard of, so we are very grateful for the approval. Les never missed a check.

And... we had just insured our house with a new company - had only paid a binder fee on the policy - BUT, they paid our claim. It was minimal coverage, but at least we had "something" to help us start over.

My daughter, Jessica, has been sick for some time. Right before Christmas, she experienced an episode of CHF. She is only 34 and we had no idea what was going on. Yesterday we learned that Jessica has interstitial lung disease and that she will require a lung transplant. Should she survive long enough, she WILL develop pulmonary hypertension.

I cannot even begin to tell you how devastating this news is.

I immediately registered us for the PHA conference in Houston. (June 19)

Jessica and I are going to seriously involve ourselves in proactive treatment. Our husbands are 100 percent behind us.

Pray for us.

Please, God, pray for my husband and daughter.  

Jo Williams

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