Musing...
Throughout my adult life I have been the patient with the mystery ailment. From the time I was about 25 years old until finally receiving a diagnosis that made sense at the age of 62. I have enjoyed many many trips to the emergency room. Sometimes I took myself, but other times I was in so much pain I could not. And other times I didn't go because I knew there would be no answers.
In 2012 I was working at Andrus Transportation Services in a triple role. I was Manager-International Freight, Manager-Equipment Control, and Dispatcher for the International Freight Business Unit. I was also a Class A truck driver and I went on the road on the weekend occasionally.
At that time we had a dedicated USPS driver in Grand Junction, Colorado. His truck needed to come to the shop in St. George, UT for mechanical repair. This driver couldn't bring his truck because he had to haul mail every day. I determined that it would be best if I shuttled a truck to him and brought his truck back to our shop.
The date was August 31, 2012. I took a load headed to Denver with the idea that I would bring a load back, swap trucks in Grand Junction and bring the mechanically challenged truck and the load back to St. George. I left St. George after work on Friday, drove about 200 miles before my hours of service clock required me to stop for the night. I pulled off the freeway into a rest area, fired up my CPAP machine and went to sleep. I was awakened at about 4:00 am with severe chest pain. I got out of bed and, with my history, I thought I would be okay, and started the truck to continue my run. I had not remembered that the "tire chain law" would be in effect in Colorado beginning on September 1, so I stopped in Grand Junction to buy tire chains.
Tire chains for big trucks come in large canvass bags. Each of these bags weigh in at 35-50 pounds or more each. The set I purchased required 5 bags. I was still hurting pretty bad, but I loaded these chains into the truck and then I had trouble catching my breath. My chest pains were intense and after consultation with Andrus office staff, I determined to call 911. The Grand Junction Fire Department was there within moments and they transported me to St. Mary's Hospital. During the ensuing 24 hours, I was examined, tested, poked, and prodded, but there was no decisive diagnosis. The doctors there determined that because they could find no other cause, I probably had pneumonia, but they couldn't verbalize anything in their testing to confirm their thinking.
When I returned home my primary care doctor put me on oxygen and sent me to do a lung study at Dixie Regional Hospital. That study found reduced function in my lungs, but there was no explanation as to the cause. I was prescribed full time oxygen from that date.
In 2014 my primary care doctor retired and sold his practice to a young lady who was, and still is, very perceptive as a diagnostician. She checked over all my records and thought I should be tested for Pulmonary Arterial Hypertension, a rare lung disease. She connected me with a pulmonary specialist and a cardiologist who confirmed the diagnosis.
There is no cure for Pulmonary Arterial Hypertension. The only prospect I could have is an eventual heart-lung transplant. PAH will eventually progress enough that my heart and other organs will be affected and it will eventually take my life. At the time of receiving a diagnosis I was told that I should expect to live 12-15 more years, but that the disease is rare enough that insufficient study had been given to really know how long. Some patients have lived 20 years past diagnosis.
I learned that in lower elevations I didn't need oxygen and in 2014 we moved from the higher elevation small town where we had been living for nearly 20 years to the St. George, Utah area. While there I could reduce oxygen to just nighttime use.
Late in 2018, my wife and I accepted a call to serve as missionaries to the Houston, Texas area. Houston is in a very low altitude area and so no oxygen was needed except at night while sleeping. However, in 2020 I again began to experience chest pains. I had already established a relationship with a pulmonary specialist and also with a cardiologist. After some testing we learned that my disease is progressing again and I am again on full time oxygen.
I find it interesting that during the day I can be fine, but at times my oxygen levels will plummet to dangerously low percentage. It is pretty scary.
We are still in Houston, still taking care of our missionary activities and we expect to complete our assignment in December. At this point there is no need for us to cut our mission short. We have much to do before our assignment ends and we do not want to leave our people without giving all we can give until there.
We love what we do. We have met some wonderful people. Sister Black has learned a little Spanish as she interacts with members of the two wards within which we work. She is the ward Organist in one of the wards we serve and I conduct the singing in Sacrament Meetings. She is teaching piano lessons so that there will be someone that can play the hymns when we leave. I conduct a bi-ward choir and I substitute teach an Institute of Religion class in Spanish. Along the way we contact active and inactive members.
This post is in answer to the many questions we have received over the past month regarding my health. Several of my friends have expressed questions as to why we are continuing our mission. In my own opinion there is no reason not to do so. Life continues whether we are in Houston, or whether we are in Utah.
God still lives. Jesus is still the Christ. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is still lead by our Lord and Savior and administered by His chosen Prophet and Apostles. The Book of Mormon is still a true book of scripture that contains the fullness of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. We encourage all to read and take advantage of the teachings contained therein. The Bible is still Scripture. None of this has changed just because I have health issues.
In 2012 I was working at Andrus Transportation Services in a triple role. I was Manager-International Freight, Manager-Equipment Control, and Dispatcher for the International Freight Business Unit. I was also a Class A truck driver and I went on the road on the weekend occasionally.
At that time we had a dedicated USPS driver in Grand Junction, Colorado. His truck needed to come to the shop in St. George, UT for mechanical repair. This driver couldn't bring his truck because he had to haul mail every day. I determined that it would be best if I shuttled a truck to him and brought his truck back to our shop.
The date was August 31, 2012. I took a load headed to Denver with the idea that I would bring a load back, swap trucks in Grand Junction and bring the mechanically challenged truck and the load back to St. George. I left St. George after work on Friday, drove about 200 miles before my hours of service clock required me to stop for the night. I pulled off the freeway into a rest area, fired up my CPAP machine and went to sleep. I was awakened at about 4:00 am with severe chest pain. I got out of bed and, with my history, I thought I would be okay, and started the truck to continue my run. I had not remembered that the "tire chain law" would be in effect in Colorado beginning on September 1, so I stopped in Grand Junction to buy tire chains.
Tire chains for big trucks come in large canvass bags. Each of these bags weigh in at 35-50 pounds or more each. The set I purchased required 5 bags. I was still hurting pretty bad, but I loaded these chains into the truck and then I had trouble catching my breath. My chest pains were intense and after consultation with Andrus office staff, I determined to call 911. The Grand Junction Fire Department was there within moments and they transported me to St. Mary's Hospital. During the ensuing 24 hours, I was examined, tested, poked, and prodded, but there was no decisive diagnosis. The doctors there determined that because they could find no other cause, I probably had pneumonia, but they couldn't verbalize anything in their testing to confirm their thinking.
When I returned home my primary care doctor put me on oxygen and sent me to do a lung study at Dixie Regional Hospital. That study found reduced function in my lungs, but there was no explanation as to the cause. I was prescribed full time oxygen from that date.
In 2014 my primary care doctor retired and sold his practice to a young lady who was, and still is, very perceptive as a diagnostician. She checked over all my records and thought I should be tested for Pulmonary Arterial Hypertension, a rare lung disease. She connected me with a pulmonary specialist and a cardiologist who confirmed the diagnosis.
There is no cure for Pulmonary Arterial Hypertension. The only prospect I could have is an eventual heart-lung transplant. PAH will eventually progress enough that my heart and other organs will be affected and it will eventually take my life. At the time of receiving a diagnosis I was told that I should expect to live 12-15 more years, but that the disease is rare enough that insufficient study had been given to really know how long. Some patients have lived 20 years past diagnosis.
I learned that in lower elevations I didn't need oxygen and in 2014 we moved from the higher elevation small town where we had been living for nearly 20 years to the St. George, Utah area. While there I could reduce oxygen to just nighttime use.
Late in 2018, my wife and I accepted a call to serve as missionaries to the Houston, Texas area. Houston is in a very low altitude area and so no oxygen was needed except at night while sleeping. However, in 2020 I again began to experience chest pains. I had already established a relationship with a pulmonary specialist and also with a cardiologist. After some testing we learned that my disease is progressing again and I am again on full time oxygen.
I find it interesting that during the day I can be fine, but at times my oxygen levels will plummet to dangerously low percentage. It is pretty scary.
We are still in Houston, still taking care of our missionary activities and we expect to complete our assignment in December. At this point there is no need for us to cut our mission short. We have much to do before our assignment ends and we do not want to leave our people without giving all we can give until there.
We love what we do. We have met some wonderful people. Sister Black has learned a little Spanish as she interacts with members of the two wards within which we work. She is the ward Organist in one of the wards we serve and I conduct the singing in Sacrament Meetings. She is teaching piano lessons so that there will be someone that can play the hymns when we leave. I conduct a bi-ward choir and I substitute teach an Institute of Religion class in Spanish. Along the way we contact active and inactive members.
This post is in answer to the many questions we have received over the past month regarding my health. Several of my friends have expressed questions as to why we are continuing our mission. In my own opinion there is no reason not to do so. Life continues whether we are in Houston, or whether we are in Utah.
God still lives. Jesus is still the Christ. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is still lead by our Lord and Savior and administered by His chosen Prophet and Apostles. The Book of Mormon is still a true book of scripture that contains the fullness of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. We encourage all to read and take advantage of the teachings contained therein. The Bible is still Scripture. None of this has changed just because I have health issues.
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