My experiences with the health-care system were minimal.
Oh sure, I've done lots of stories on St. Joseph's Hospital in Estevan, the people who work there, the care provided and the people who support the facility. There have been lots of other stories about health care in the province.
Mom was a nurse for 38 years. Most of her time was spent in home care. And I have other friends and family who have worked in health in some capacity.
But I didn't have a family physician from 2000-2018. Felt I didn't need one. And I still hadn't spent much time as a patient. Until recently.
I won't pretend that I've been a fitness freak or a picture of good health. Six-pack abs? Not a chance. Healthy diet and nutrition? Hell no. An extra serving of beef or another cold craft beer? Yes, please.
My most recent visit to an emergency room was likely in Fort St. John, B.C., in 1987 when I had initial battles with asthma. I had no recollection of ever being in a hospital overnight.
Late last year, I started to experience a slight shortness of breath. I wrote it off as an allergy to dogs. I went home to B.C., and spent all sorts of time spoiling my two (canine) nephews – Murphy and Banjo. Allergy medication didn't change anything.
Upon arriving back in Saskatchewan, the shortness of breath continued. I couldn't sit on my couch or recliner. I started to struggle with sleeping; five hours was a lot. I was losing my energy, strength and appetite.
I thought it was a virus, but other health issues were discussed. When I started to have fluid build-up in my legs, feet, ankles, waist and hands, that should have been a sign that it was my heart.
On Feb. 27, I went to the hospital for a home-care appointment to look at the fluid issue. On their recommendation, I also went to the lab for a drop-in visit. An electrocardiogram found an irregular heartbeat. I was off to emergency for the first time in nearly 38 years.
I was taken in almost immediately. The care provided at St. Joseph's Hospital was excellent. The staff was great. They answered my questions. They told me what was happening, provided me with some medication and even a good lunch and supper. (The hospital is pretty proud of its food).
That night, I was transported to the cardiac surveillance unit at Regina General Hospital. And while nobody will ever call a two-hour ambulance ride while strapped to a stretcher as "comfortable", the local EMS unit was again very professional.
I was told that I had a condition named atrial fibrillation, which is an irregular heartbeat that can carry some pretty serious consequences if not treated. They were going to correct it on March 1 with a simple procedure that was called a "shock". Then I'd need a few days to recover in hospital and to get my new medication sorted out.
The shock worked and I was discharged on March 5 after several days of quality care and lots of questions. Mom flew out for a week to provide care when I was at home recovering (and to ensure I was following doctor's orders). The last couple of weeks have been a process of recovering, rebuilding my strength and adjusting to a new normal.
I'm limited to two litres of fluid a day. I'm on a low-sodium diet. Things that I used to eat are now on a banned list; my beverage intake is limited to what's essential. I'm not eating out, although maybe I could go out for a low or no-sodium offering. Needless to say, I'm craving wings and a beer, but that won't be happening for months. I'm checking sodium levels and ingredients on food labels for the first time in my life.
I've been able to work a reduced schedule since March 10, but haven't been cleared to go out and cover events in the community. (We're hoping that changes really soon).
But I'm making progress every day, thanks in large part to the care that I received in the hospital and the information I received. I'm sleeping well again (at least for my standards), I'm able to exercise again and I'm eating healthy (again, by my standards) for the first time in my life. Thanks to the diminishing fluid levels, I'm down about 50 pounds since Feb. 27.
Hopefully, the habits and the lessons from the past few weeks remain for a long time to come.
I recognize there are people who are in far worse shape than me and going through much tougher times with their help, while others are still waiting for answers for their health conditions.
While our health-care system isn't perfect, and there are lots of issues to be resolved (especially when it comes to overburdened staff members), I'm thankful a universal health-care system and dedicated people were there when I needed them. I'm grateful that I don't have to worry about a hefty bill for the length of the hospital stay, the care I received, the shock and the other procedures I underwent.
I'll be certain to be more vigilant with my health, particularly my heart health, in the future. If I feel something is wrong, I won't be silent, thinking it's not so bad, or the system has other people to worry about who need care more than me. (Although I won't be a hypochondriac, either).
There are good people ready to care for me if I need them.
