In the long run…

When we spotted this female kudu lying in the garden today, we wondered if she was in labor.

“Sighting of the Day in the Bush”

Adorable Ms. Bushbuck (one of many Ms. Bushbucks) standing by the cement pond.

Please, dear readers, don’t be concerned that our site will become a medium to moan about my medical woes.  I’m as anxious as all of you to get back to the matters at hand…world travel.

It’s exciting and highly motivating to know that in 62 days, we’ll be on our way to Ireland. Of course, it’s perfectly normal for me to have looked up possible cardiologists in the area of Connemara, Ireland. The closest I found was in Galway, about a one-hour drive.

Most likely, I’ll have to have a check-up by a cardiologist during the three months in Ireland as I would have done if we stayed in South Africa or any other country. 

Apparently, such an exam is crucial at the six-month mark, post-surgery, in August.  

We watched her, noticing her swollen udder, and wondered what was going on.  As we watched, we realized she wasn’t in labor but was relaxing in the shade on a hot, humid day.

We leave Ireland on August 9th, spend two days in Amsterdam, and then we’re off to a Baltic cruise for 12 nights. After the Baltic cruise, we have a 62-day gap we’ve yet to fill, hoping to stay somewhere near Cornwall in England.  

We realize we need to get on the ball and figure out this gap, but at this point, we’d feel better waiting a month to book something. If we have to move around a bit, we will, since booking in this popular area will be challenging last minute. But, we have no doubt we’ll figure it out, one way or another.

We won’t be heading to the US until November, during which we’ll visit family in Minnesota, Nevada, and Arizona. It will be wonderful to see everyone at that time.  Had this heart surgery not occurred, we’d have been in Minnesota on April 8th, less than a month from now.

Another photo of the nyala who visited us for the first time on Friday along with kudus and Ms. Buchbuck…three types of antelope in the garden simultaneously.

We couldn’t bear another financial loss of canceling the holiday home in Ireland, so we’ll pick back up there and continue with our itinerary. Based on our current scenario, we’ve decided not to book two years out in the future.  

As we age (or at any age for that matter), we can’t predict what may transpire preventing us from meeting our commitments for holiday homes, flights, hotels, cruises, and tours. This is a harsh reality of non-stop world travel without a home base.

Do we regret not having a home base when the necessity of this surgery rolled out?  No. South Africa and our proximity to Mediclinic Nelspruit proved to be one of the best places in the world. This could have occurred for a few reasons (see below photo):

The two young male bushbucks arrived together.

1.  We had an available holiday house that happened to be available where we’d been living over the past year. We didn’t have to move…a huge bonus.
2.  The cost of the surgery, although high at ZAR 700000, US $48,477, was nothing compared to the cost of this surgery in the US, which easily could have been seven or eight times higher.
3.  Our international insurance policy doesn’t cover us. At the same time, in the US, plus the minimal Medicare coverage we have in the US could easily have resulted in ZAR 1443981, US $100,000 in co-payments we’d have to pay.
4.  There was no better place on earth to recover than here in Marloth Park, surrounded by an endless stream of wildlife and many wonderful friends.

In essence, Tom considers that we were in South Africa, under the above conditions was “safari luck” in its truest form. I happen to agree, especially now as I continue to improve with our wildlife friends at our doorstep.

No, it’s not easy, nor will I imply that having this type of surgery anywhere in the world is easy. In some ways, it may be a little more complicated here with the high heat and humidity during Africa’s summer months and the power outages, which aren’t too bad right now.

A young male bushbuck with horns just beginning to appear.

Like most patients after a big procedure or surgery, they want to be “home,” not in some strange big city in a hotel as some family members and friends had suggested with the best of intentions. For now and the next 62 days and, for this past year, the “Orange…More than just a colour“… house has been our home.  

We’re very grateful for many reasons… 

                   
                            Photo from one year ago today, March 10, 2018:

We stopped at a covered brick structure overlooking the Crocodile River with bleacher-type tiered seating, perfect for viewing wildlife. Click here for more photos.

Update on recovery process…Baby steps or with gusto?…Nyala stops by again today…

He seems to be following a small forkl of kudus consisting of two boys and their mom. It appears he’s taking a liking to the mom.

“Sighting of the Day in the Bush”

The nyala seems very interested in this female kudu. Since there are no female nyalas in Marloth Park, one never knows what could transpire.

The number of readers who wrote to wish both Tom and me the very best as we worked together through my healing process after triple coronary bypass surgery less than four weeks ago was astounding. Thank you, dear readers/friends, throughout the world. Your words of encouragement definitely had a positive impact.

Generally, recovery from any type of surgery, illness, or injury is a highly individual process. Each patient is recovering at their own pace with the aid of physical therapy, a good diet, and plenty of rest with a gradual return to everyday activities.

A vital aspect of recovery is having the love and support of those family members and friends who can offer emotional support and aid in performing day-to-day activities.

Anxious to get back to myself again, I’m steadfast in following doctor’s orders, however vague they may be, and doing as much for myself as possible. At this point, I can get in and out of any chair, the bed, off the low sofa, and in and out of the car on my own.

Do I still have pain 25 days post-surgery? Yes, I do. As a matter of fact, each time I move, all four areas of my body with incisions (three in my legs, one in my chest) scream out as a reminder of how careful I must be.  

On top of that, other areas continue to be painful. My arms, closely related to the chest muscles, struggle to perform small tasks such as cutting food on my plate, chopping, dicing, and reaching for items above chest level.  

Preparing a meal is still cumbersome especially opening and reaching into the refrigerator, opening the vegetable drawer, and pulling items out of the freezer. After tearing a muscle in my chest wall three weeks ago today in the middle of the night, in the dark when the power had gone out, I’m cautious knowing how much of a setback this can be. This injury set me back for several weeks.

But, I try to think in terms of what I can do. I can shower, dress, fix my face and hair, brush my teeth, and put on my clothes. Now, I can do some light food prep in the kitchen, fold laundry and carry my own plate of food to the table, impossible only two weeks ago. These small tasks are encouraging.

Such a handsome creature.

Today, I started week three of the walking program which consists of 20 minutes twice a day. This morning I used the breathing machine and then proceeded to do the first 20-minutes of walking around the house, non-stop, at a comfortable pace.

Oddly, the 20-minute walk seemed no harder than the 15-minute walks as of yesterday. Boredom is a huge factor for me, so I’ve been listening to podcasts on my laptop while I walk. The clothes I’ve been wearing have no pockets or place or place for my cellphone to use for the podcasts.

No, I’m not ready to walk on the roads here in Marloth Park, and I can’t imagine when this could be practical on the bumpy dirt roads in our remaining two months in the park. It would be so easy to fall and that I want to avoid at all costs.

How am I holding up emotionally? It’s hard to tame an “overly bubbly” type such as me. Although I’m not gushing with enthusiasm, as usual, I am in good spirits, not whining, not irritable, and definitely not self-pitying.

However, I do ask the question several times a day to Tom and often to myself, “How in the world did this happen to me, of all people?” I spent my entire life attempting to be healthy and fit. I went as far as asking the two cardiac physicians how this could happen to me?

In both cases, they responded,  “Your lifetime efforts were not lost. Heredity brought this on, and had you not strived for good health all these years, you wouldn’t be here asking this question. You survived despite it.”

That provides me with a little comfort, but now I am madly searching for answers on how I can prevent this from happening again in the future should I be blessed to live many more years. There don’t seem to be any obvious lifestyle changes I can incorporate into my future wellness program.

If necessary, I won’t ever drink a glass of low alcohol red wine again, but the doctors insist a few glasses are fine, if not good. At this point, the thought of drinking anything with alcohol makes me queasy. Even Tom has avoided having a drink since this mess began in early February.

At this point, I don’t believe we’ll be back to our old selves while we’re still here in Marloth Park. The upcoming three months in Ireland by the sea will most likely further escalate the healing process with level roads and sandy beaches on which to walk, cool air day and night, and most likely, few, if any power outages.

It’s not that I’m anxious to leave Marloth Park, even with its frequent power outages, high heat, humidity, and biting insects.  It’s simply a fact that a little easier day to day might be highly beneficial.   

I’m still wearing those hot compression stockings, and when the heat is at 40C, 104F, and the humidity is at 85%, it’s a bit uncomfortable. The only clothes I can wear right now are tee shirts and leggings since shorts and jeans aren’t comfortable near the incisions. I only have one pair of loose black pajama bottoms and one navy blue tight leggings, both of which are scorching. 

But, I am making good progress, am down to only a few low dose pain pills per day, and overall eating normally, albeit smaller portions than usual due to lack of appetite, which is normal after this type of operation. The result is baby steps…not my usual “go for it” mentality. I want to do this right to continue on our worldwide journey with renewed health and renewed hope for the future in two months.

Be well.

Photo from one year ago, March 9, 2018:

A waterbuck resting on a sandbar in the Crocodile River. For more photos from one year ago, please click here.

Safari luck!…A sighting we’ve awaited for 13 months…What a way to start a new day!…

When friends Lois and Tom visited for three weeks in October, we spotted the nyala crossing the road from a distance but never were able to get a decent photo. From there, we searched daily, hoping to spot it again.

“Sighting of the Day in the Bush”

Once the kudus began to walk away, the nyala followed behind. Perhaps, he’s spending a lot of time with them.

A short time after we arrived in Marloth Park last year, on February 11, 2018, we’d heard a lot about the lone nyala in the park from our friends. Some had lived here 10 years or more and had never seen it, and others had seen it more than once.

With our usual safari luck, we expected to see it and take a decent photo to share here. But, as time went on, we decided it would be unlikely we’d see one animal among so many based on the massive size of Marloth Park at 3000 hectares, 7413 acres.

When friends Lois and Tom stayed with us for three weeks in October, we’d hoped to spot it while they were here. We almost accomplished this when we saw him at a distance, crossing a dirt road near the Crocodile River. 

Tom opened the big doors to the house this morning to find this stunning surprise, the elusive Marloth Park male Nyala hanging out with two male kudus, one female kudu, and one female bushbuck.  What a fabulous surprise! 

We all jumped out of the car, hoping to take a photo as he made his way deep into the bush, but alas, he disappeared in seconds. Friend Tom scrambled directly into the bush to attempt a photo but no such luck.

We resigned ourselves to the fact that it would be unlikely we’d see it again during our remaining time in the bush. Had my recent bypass surgery not transpired, we’d never have had today’s sighting. We would have been long gone.

But now, as I recover a little more each day, this morning’s sighting in our garden, we were overcome with joy and gratefulness. Plus, for some odd reason, this felt like a good omen for health and healing, for which we’ve become more optimistic each day.  

We’ve spent endless hours driving through Marloth Park in search of this stunning member of the antelope family. 

Finally, two weeks after returning from the hospital, I’m beginning to notice improvements each day.  Yesterday, on our 24th wedding anniversary, I made Tom an apple crumble, one of his favorite desserts, warmed and served with an ample dollop of vanilla ice cream.  

Based on its sugar content, I didn’t have any of the crumble but continued to savor one of the last few pieces of low-carb cheesecake. Tom peeled the apples (we saved the peels for the kudus they love) while I put together the remaining ingredients. It made me smile to see him practically moaning over each bite.

Since my surgery, Tom had lost five kgs (11 pounds) and deserved a sweet treat.  Ironically, he lost more weight than my measly two kgs (4.2 pounds). Surely, the stress and loss of appetite have impacted both of us.  

There are some similarities in appearance between the nyala and the kudu. But, the coloration of the hair, the long beard, and the pattern on the legs are unique. Females do not have horns and are much smaller.

We would avoid losing more weight by making the low-carb pie for me and the apple crisp for Tom. Finally, I stopped losing, and now, with this dessert, Tom will do the same. It feels so good to have a dessert in the evening, comforting especially after all of our attention has been focused on me getting well.

Anyway, back to the nyala…when opening the two massive wooden doors this morning while I was up, showered, and dressed, Tom whispered, “Hurry, get the camera. It’s the nyala.”

And indeed it was. I positioned myself at a chair by the table to steady myself since my arms are still too weak the hold the camera up in the air, positioning my elbows for steadiness and accuracy. In my usual overly enthusiastic manner, I struggled to keep from shaking while I took the photos. I did the best I could and wasn’t unhappy with the results.

From left to right, two kudus, one bushbuck (by the cement pond), and the elusive nyala to the far right.

The scene before our eyes of the lone nyala, three kudus (two males, one female), and the single pretty bushbuck was a scene we’ll never forget…pure heaven, here on Earth.

Here are some nyala facts from this Kruger National Park site:

“Name

Nyala [Nyala angasii or Tragelaphus angasii]

Appearance

The handsome slate-brown shaggy coat is marked with white vertical stripes and spots on the flanks. Rams appear more charcoal-grey in color. The rams have long inward curved horns (650 mm) and a white chevroned face. They have a ridge of long hairs along the underparts, from behind the chin to between the hind legs. They also have a mane of thick, black hair from the head along the spine to the rump. Rams weigh 115 Kg and measure 1.05 m at shoulders. Ewes are much smaller, do not have horns, and weigh 59 Kg and stand 900mm at shoulders. Ewes are chestnut-coated with even more prominent white stripes on the flanks.

He looked healthy and well-fed. Surely, when he occasionally visits the garden of a bush home with residents aware of his arrival, he is fed plenty of pellets along with the lush greenery, since the rains, in Marloth Park.

Diet
This antelope feeds by grazing and browsing and readily feeds on leaves, fruit, and flowers. This variety in their diet is one of the factors ensuring their successful survival.

Breeding

They breed throughout the year but mating peaks in autumn and spring. Single calves are born after a gestation period of 220 days. Twins are not uncommon. Ewes first conceive between 14 to 18 months. The average interval between births is 297 days. Mating opportunities for rams are decided through dominant behavior.

Behavior

An interesting fact is that juvenile males look like females. It is thought that this camouflages the young males and protects them from the jealous eyes of the dominant bulls. The young males are therefore allowed to grow up peacefully under the protection of the herd.

They appeared to get along quite well with the kudus as they shared pellets we’d tossed.

Habitat
This rather large antelope inhabits dense woodlands and thickets along permanent water. It is very secretive and more easily seen at night. Nyala is non-territorial, but both sexes have overlapping home ranges. The home ranges of ewes are twice the size of that of rams.

Where they are found

As a result of translocation, nyalas are found in several game reserves and private farms throughout South Africa. They are most numerous in the Kruger National Park.

Vital Statistics

Latin Name
Tragelaphus Angasii
Weight (Female)
55 – 68 kg weight (Male)
92 – 126 gestation Period
8 months of Young
1 calf
Birth Weight
5 kg order
Artiodactyla
Family
Bovidae
Horns
64 cm (record – 84 cm)
Breeding
A single young is born anytime during the year (peaks in August – December), gestation period ± 7 months.

Spoor Description

The fore-feet of the males are relatively broader than those of the females. Adult males are also larger than and shared females.”

Ms. Bushbuck kept a close eye on the pellets, wondering if she could squeeze in for a few.  We made sure she had plenty as well.

What a great start to our day! What’s on the agenda for today?  More rest, more walking, more good food, and more of the loving care that has been so instrumental in my continuing recovery. 

Thanks to our readers for your ongoing love and support, anniversary wishes, and wise experience from those who’ve been where I am now and have healed and gone on to live a full and fulfilling life.

He ate a few pellets but didn’t seem that interested in them.  Most likely, he’s getting plenty of nourishment from the lush bush.

Happy day!

Photo from one year ago, March 8, 2018:

In the yard, there’s a fenced-in garden intended to protect some vegetation. Ha! the monkeys have no trouble crawling inside and making a mess.  These vervet monkeys are fun to watch with their playful antics but annoying and destructive.  For more photos, please click here.

Celebrations aren’t the same right now…We aren’t missing a thing when we have so much to celebrate!…

Check out these mature horns on this Big Daddy kudu!

“Sighting of the Day in the Bush”

Mongoose, who are carnivores, don’t bother with the marulas currently dropping from the trees.

Today, March 7th, is our 24th wedding anniversary. This will be the first year we won’t be making a fuss or dining out to commemorate this special day.  

My goodness, I’m alive! This is cause for celebration! I was in the ICU in hospital on Valentine’s Day, still in ICU on my birthday on the 20th and now recuperating at our holiday home in Marloth Park on our anniversary. Instead, today, we’ll stay in as I continue in my recovery, celebrating Life itself.

Kudus by the veranda steps.

None of this bothers me or makes me feel sad. None of those special dates would have any meaning if my dreadful heart condition hadn’t be discovered by the best doctor on the planet, Dr. Theo Stronkhorst, in Komtipoort, who essentially saved my life.

In hospital, the cardiac, thoracic surgeon, and the cardiologist explained that when I would have had a heart attack which was inevitable at any time, there would be no resuscitating me. With only one working artery, death would have been imminent.  

Kudus were enjoying pellets.

Instead, I’ve been given another shot at life, and today, on our 24th wedding anniversary, I celebrate this second chance with the man of my dreams, my partner, my lover, my best friend, and now my diligent, hard-working, and devoted caregiver. I don’t need a fancy meal or the ambiance of an upscale restaurant to make me feel loved.  

All I need is to be with Tom today, reveling in the gift we’ve been given…more time to be together…more time to travel the world…more time to embrace the wonders of the world around us. For this, we celebrate with indescribable joy.

A Big Daddy was checking out the snacks being offered.

Last night, at happy hour, Kathy, Don Linda, and Ken stopped by for sundowners and celebrated Life with us before they headed out to dinner. It was beautiful to see them all, although I excluded myself from a glass of wine. 

At this point, the thought of a glass of wine or other cocktails makes me feel queasy. I’m sure; once I’m off some of these medications, I’ll be able to enjoy one or two glasses of red wine, now and then. For now, hot or cold tea and diet orange soda are all I can manage to get down.

Three Big Daddies stopped by together.

The conversation was lively and animated as we sat at the big table on the veranda after dark. It seemed like so long ago that we all were together when in fact, it was only on Saturday night, February 9th, that we had dinner together at Jabula to celebrate a good outcome for my upcoming triple bypass surgery. At that point, only three days away.

I easily recall how frightened I was at that time, but I was also comforted by their encouragement, friendship, and love. It was a fun night. We’re planning to replicate that good time, after the fact, next Friday on March 15th, when I plan to attend another dinner at Jabula. This will be my first time out to dinner since the surgery.  I’m so grateful. (Bear with me, I can’t stop saying this).

This morning’s mongoose frenzy.

The four of them took off early this morning for an educational safari adventure studying birds of prey in Kruger National Park. It will feel as if we’re right there with them! I’m hoping to share some of their photos and a little information about these fantastic birds once they start posting photos.

I won’t extol the virtues of my fine husband Tom and bore our readers “ad nauseam” with why I feel so lucky to have been married to him for the past 24 years and together for almost 28 years. Those who’ve been reading our posts over the past seven years (our first post was March 15, 2012) already get it from snippets I’ve included here and there.

Once they devoured the eggs, Tom mixed up. They wait in hopes of more.

Instead, I’ll say, “Happy anniversary, my love. Now we have many more years to enjoy life together.” What more could I ask for? Healing? It’s coming. I feel a tiny bit better each day. Last night my feet didn’t burn during the night. And although I awoke a few times feeling pain and stiffness, I could tell I was on the mend.

Coronary bypass surgery is a big operation.  I have four significant incisions in my body, a broken sternum, and various sites healing after the insertion of tubes.  The three over-foot-long incisions in my legs are painful, making moving and walking as required difficult. The incision in my chest from my collarbone down to my stomach burns, itches, and aches. The inside of my chest, which was wired back together, is painful as it stretches and strives to heal. The pulled muscle in my right chest will take months to heal. 

But…I am alive to celebrate this outstanding marriage and continue our fantastic world journey for as long as possible. 

May good health come your way!

Photo from one year ago today, March 7, 2018:

One year ago: This morning’s first-time visitor to the yard, a wildebeest.  Never once did he look at us or pick up his head for a face photo. But, we were happy to see him anyway! Later, we named him Wildebeest Willie, and he’s been a regular since a year ago. Now he looks into our eyes before eating any pellets. For more, please click here.

Good news…Uplifting with peace of mind…Safari luck prevails…Gratefulness…

Little came looking for me, wondering why I haven’t been sitting outdoors as usual. Oh, Little, you put such a smile on my face.

“Sighting of the Day in the Bush”

These species get along well, especially when there are plenty of pellets to share.

It wasn’t as simple as returning to our bush house and working on my recovery.  There are so many things to handle besides the credits and refunds we’ve been hoping to receive, in part, if at all.

A few items easily fell into place (some of which we mentioned in an earlier post), which includes:

  • The extension of the car rental for another three months until we leave on May 11th: The rental company, a subsidiary of Hertz, agreed to continue the rental until we leave for the same excellent price
  • The coincidental cancellation of a flight by Ethiopian Air for the flight from Nairobi to Santiago Chile resulted in a refund for ZAR 31587, US $2,150. This was a stroke of safari luck for sure. (We’ve yet to receive the refund but are working with Expedia to get this done).
  • A partial refund from Greg Harvey Tours for the photography tour to Kenya for $5000. (We lost over ZAR 142265, US $10,000 on this one)
  • Partial refunds from two cruises we had to cancel.
  • Cancellation without penalty of two hotel stays we’d booked, one for one night, another for seven nights.
No sooner than Tom opened the big doors this morning, these two zebras were waiting to see if there were pellets on the menu.

As time marches on, we see other ways we can save a few dollars here and there.  But, the biggest relief of all came today when the top billing administrator from Mediclinic Nelspruit informed us that our insurance company would pay the claim for approximately ZAR 700000, US $49,204 minus a ZAR 28453, US $2,000, deductible for the cardiac bypass surgery.

Once that’s paid in the next week, then we’ll file the claim for reimbursement to our insurance company for the ZAR 80000, US $5628 for the angiogram and other tests before the surgery, an entirely separate bill, again requiring a ZAR 28453, US $2,000 deductible which we’re happy to pay.  

Suddenly, there were more when the word got out.
The alternative would have been for us to pay, out of pocket, ZAR 842267, US $59,2014, a substantial chunk out of our budget that would have severely impacted plans for the future while we recovered from the unexpected loss of such a huge sum.  
 
Since we needed to prepare for the eventuality of the insurance company refusing to pay, we had to liquidate some assets (sadly) at their lowest value to put the funds into our checking account to be prepared for the hospital requiring immediate payment.  
A moment later, we had kudus in the garden as well.
We’ll have to bear US tax consequences for taking out this sum and working with our accountant in Nevada to see how this will roll out for the 2019 tax year.  There’s no free ride.
 
However, we feel the peace of mind and relief that the insurance company will pay the very reasonable hospital bill of ZAR 700000, US $49,204. In the US, the cost of this surgery could have been eight or nine times more than the cost here in South Africa.
Then, of course, Little appeared.
The insurance we have doesn’t provide coverage while we’re in the US.  Had this situation transpired and with the limited coverage offered by Part A Medicare, we could easily have had to pay well over ZAR 1422653, US $100,000.  
 
The cost per day for the ICU unit in the US typically runs from ZAR 99586, US $7,000, to ZAR 142265, US $10,000 per day.  I spent eight days in ICU in Nelspruit.
The identical five zebras visited off and on all morning.

Need I say, we are relieved beyond words. Not only was my life spared by this horrible situation being discovered during our last few weeks while in South Africa, but we’ve been spared some tough-to-swallow expenses had we been anywhere else in the world.  

This, above all other safari luck experiences, has genuinely been the best of them all.  Sure, I’m still in lots of pain and expect to be so for at least several more weeks, but my spirit is uplifted and hopeful for the future.  

The zebras often get into little scuffles amongst themselves over the pellets.

I do not doubt that I’ll be sufficiently recovered for our May 11th flight to Dublin and the long drive to Connemara, Ireland, where we’ll settle for almost three whole months, picking up where we left off in our worldwide journey, as we continue to share this blissful experience with YOU…all of our worldwide readers.

A few readers have written and asked this question in one form or another: “Did you, at any point during this medical crisis, fear your travel days were over?”

Little likes to eat Frank and the Mrs. birdseed, which we often toss into this area.

The answer from me is straightforward…once I realized I’d survived the surgery, my hopes have escalated each day. On the other hand, Tom, the worrier, has continued to be concerned even as recently as this morning.  

But, with the insurance company paying the bill and these other refunds coming through, soon his mind will be at ease, especially as he sees me improving a little each day.

Kudu and zebras.

Thank God. Thank the Universe. Thank the South African doctors for their expertise. Thank Dr. Theo in the little town of Komatipoort for discovering my condition by going on gut instinct and his deep compassion for his patients.  

In essence, this experience, however painful and frightening, may prove to be the best thing that ever happened to me.

Safari luck and gratefulness, a winning combination.

Photo from one year ago today, March 6, 2018:

This was a “tower” or “journey” of the eight giraffes who made their way to the only paved road in Marloth. Note the eighth giraffe is to the far right in this photo. For more photos, please click here.

Photo shortage…Will increase in days to come…Thanks readers for hanging in there!…

Female duikers have one tiny horn near their ears.

“Sighting of the Day in the Bush”

Little hogs all the pellets when other wildlife is around.  After all, he is a pig.

There’s no doubt about it. We’ve had a dreadful shortage of photos since I began posting on February 25th, 13 days after cardiac bypass surgery. It’s truly been a labor of love. I couldn’t wait to get back to it.

However, photo ops have been few since we no longer embark on the long drives in Marloth Park, let alone in Kruger. I’ll be able to do Kruger on the main paved road long before I can ride on the bumpy dirt roads in Marloth Park. 
The street on which we live is one of the bumpiest roads in all of MP. I have no idea when I might be able to tackle it, if ever, during our remaining 67 days here. At this point, I can hardly imagine being able to fly in 67 days after having spent the past 10 days recuperating with only a little progress each day.
Male duikers have two tiny horns on their heads (difficult to see in these photos).

But then, I may be hard on myself when I realize how much more I can do now than 10 days ago. Yesterday, I baked the delicious low-carb cheese pie that I savored as we watched a show last night, to be repeated each night until the final piece is gone.

This morning, I prepared and started a load of laundry, made my lemon water drink, and put away a tray of flatware and knives after Tom had emptied the dishwasher. It doesn’t seem like much, but in my world, it’s progress.

By 10:30 am, I was up, dressed, took the plethora of pills prescribed for me, did the breathing exercises, and walked steadily around the house for 15 minutes twice a day). Now up to the required daily 30-minutes, I can begin to imagine walking for an hour by the end of the initial six-week recovery period. 

Little stopped by this morning to check out the pellet situation.  As always, it was good.

It’s slow, but it is progress, nonetheless, and each day provides me with an opportunity to move forward by some seemingly mundane task that ultimately becomes a milestone in this life of healing.

I gave up the fight against taking the pain meds. They aren’t codeine or morphine-based and supposedly non-addictive, and I now accept taking one (not the recommended two, every five hours or so). Doing so keeps my mind off the pain enabling me to do more things for myself.

Now that I can rise from a chair or the bed on my own, I don’t have to ask Tom for as much help as I did a week or more ago, which has greatly added to my confidence in taking care of myself. Oh, he didn’t mind at all but the more dependent I was upon him, the less quickly I’d recover.

It’s incredible how nature provided warthogs with pads on their knees to all them to bend to eat freely. Their long snouts make it necessary for them to eat this way. Although the original Wart Face has such a huge body and long snout, he didn’t need to bend onto his knees.

Each morning he puts the compression socks on my legs. They are so challenging to get on, especially when he must be cautious in getting near my legs’ still healing incisions, particularly on the right thigh, which continues to bleed off and on. I can’t imagine when I will be able to do this on my own.

Yesterday, dear friend Kathy (of Kathy and Don) visited at 8:00 am to help me while Tom went to Komatipoort to see the dentist for his abscessed tooth, which he’d treated with antibiotics Nelspruit while I was in the hospital. What a great friend among many here in Marloth Park! As always, Kathy came bearing gifts, hugs, and loving support.

Our regular dentist here, the amazing Luzanne Du Preez at Komati Dental, gave Tom a prescription mouthwash to see if it will ultimately heal enough to avoid pulling the wisdom tooth. If not, before we leave in May, he’ll have it taken care of. I have two more amalgam fillings to be replaced, but dental work is not recommended immediately after heart surgery due to the risks of endocarditis, an infection of the heart.

Mom and baby have both grown over this past year. We’ve probably fed them more than any other wildlife, and they look healthy and fit.

So, dear reader/friends, we carry on with hope in our hearts that the healing process will continue to move forward, enabling us to resume our many plans for the future. Thanks to all of our readers for sticking with us, with or without many exciting photos, during this trying time and always.

Have a spectacular day!

Photo from one year ago today, March 5, 2018:

During most of their visit, they stayed close to one another and not too far from us. We’ve since had those tire chairs moved to the far side of the house. They were a breeding ground for insects and snakes. For more photos, please click here.

Turning a corner?…Perhaps the time has come…I made a pie!…

Tom called me outside to see the tiniest baby kudu we’ve seen to date.

“Sighting of the Day in the Bush”

This adorable young kudu, most likely born in the past 24 hours, was waiting for an excellent opportunity to suckle, noticing mom was preoccupied with the pellets.

Ironically, the first thing I did for myself during this long recovery period was to bake a pie, my favorite low-carb cheese pie, to be exact. Losing so much weight since we returned from the hospital nine days ago, from surgery 20 days ago, I knew I needed something sweet to help me stop losing weight.

Statistically, coronary bypass patients do better when they don’t lose much weight after this major surgery. I can’t get the photo out of my mind when seeing former president Bill Clinton a few months after his surgery looking 25 years older than his actual age at the time, 58 years old. Here’s his story at this link.

I will make every effort to be fit and healthy during the recovery period and for years to come after that. Vanity aside, I don’t want to look worn and haggard as he did months after the surgery.
With the umbilical cord still evident, they most likely were born in the past day or so.

On top of that, he suffered from severe cognitive dysfunction, as specified in this article. I may not feel great yet and still experiencing a fair amount of pain and discomfort, but my mind is as sharp as ever, if not more so, from increased blood flow to my brain.

From the article mentioned above posted by one of the world’s top cardiologists, John McDougall, the following is stated:

“In 2001, an article in the New England Journal of Medicine reported that 5-years after bypass surgery, 42% of patients showed a decline in mental function of approximately 20 percent or more. A study published this year (2008) in the Annals of Thoracic Surgery using MRI testing after bypass surgery found brain damage in 51% of patients. Three years after their time on the bypass pump, a significant permanent reduction in mental capacity was identified in 31% of patients. I am not talking major stroke here, but these patients can’t remember names or numbers as they once did, experience sleep disturbances (including nightmares), suffer mood swings and lose intellectual acuity. Approximately 30 percent of people suffer persistent depression, and some even contemplate suicide.”

This was quite a sighting for both of us.

Wow! It’s a good thing I didn’t see this article before I agreed to the surgery! Not only do I remember almost everything that transpired in the ICU unit and later the hospital ward, but I also remember the most minute details of trips we’d planned well into the future and trips we relished in the past.

I am so grateful for this, and if I have to continue to experience some pain and unease over the next many months, so be it…a small price to pay for one’s retained mental acuity.

Thus, this morning with the scale showing another loss of a kilo (2.2 pounds), I knew I had to up the ante on my caloric consumption while remaining my regular way of eating. Both cardiac physicians explained I didn’t develop three 100% blocked arteries from my diet, instead clearly stating it resulted from my heredity—no need for a dietary change.

After all, my typical meal includes a reasonable portion of lean protein, two types of colorful vegetables, and a salad. What way of eating could dispute the quality of this way of eating?

By making this favorite pie (since my childhood), I can afford myself an extra 350 calories with each slice with less than five grams of carbohydrates. Plus, it’s a feel-good pie making me smile at every delectable bite.

Too cute for words.

As much as the value (to me) of enjoying a piece of this pie over the next several nights, I wanted to see if I could make the pie in my weakened condition.  Everything I read about recovery from this surgery mentions getting back into a routine of performing tasks I’d done in the past without any strain on my body.

Right now, I’m walking 30 minutes a day, sitting up for the better part of the day, able to shower and take care of personal needs, and do my breathing exercises with relative ease. Surely, making one pie wouldn’t be more strenuous than any of these other tasks.

It wasn’t. Yes, I had to ask Tom to take the mixer down from a high cabinet, but once that was accomplished. The delicious pie crust was baked with almond flour, butter, cinnamon, and sweetener and allowed to cool. I easily made the filling, poured it into the baked pie crust, and gingerly placed it into the oven setting a timer as I always do.

Once cooled again, I’ll add the topping and place it in the fridge, looking forward to the first bite and the second, third and fourth. I take tiny bites to savor each morsel. I’ll gather my innate sense of self-control to avoid taking a second piece, remembering that prolonging the availability of this pie makes it all the more delightful.

This may be a segue into performing more tasks shortly, of course always keeping in mind my clear thinking mind that the baby steps is the name of this game.

Have a safe and healthy day!

Photo from one year ago today, March 4, 2018:

This female bushbuck flipped into the air after something bit her! For more photos, please click here.

Expectations have the ability to disappoint…Cautiously holding back…

Tom tossed some seeds to Frank and The Misses.

“Sighting of the Day in the Bush”

Lately, Frank has been holding up one of his little legs he must have injured.

Traveling to and from anywhere in the world is filled with expectations. Part of the excitement of traveling is wrapped around the anticipation of wonderful experiences yet to come as we visualize ourselves at various points of interest along the way.

We were thrown for a loop when this sudden unplanned heart surgery necessity cropped up about three weeks ago.  We were only days away from leaving Marloth Park to head to Kenya for the photographic tour we’d anticipated for so long.

Frank and The Misses. and Ms. Bushbuck.

Many times over these past six-plus years since we began our journey, people would ask, “What will you do if some urgent medical situation occurs and you have no home base, no insurance in the US, and you’re living in some remote town?”

The answer was always the same, “We’ll figure it out.” And when it happened years earlier than “expected” we did exactly that. In my medication-induced stupor and Tom’s state of utter exhaustion, we figured it out. Piece by piece, we canceled venues, flights, cruises, and hotel stays, losing a lot of money but finding a way and a place to recover so that in time, once again, we’ll be on the move.

There are several Ms. Bushbucks that come to call.

The doctors suggested we don’t go anywhere until 90 days post surgery which transpired on February 12th. We plan to leave Africa on May 11th to head to Connemara, Ireland, for a peaceful three-month stay. This is precisely 88 days after the surgery. Close enough.

Sure, right now, there are days where I can’t imagine being ready for the long flight and drive to our holiday rental. But it is soon yet, only 19 days post-surgery. I have a long way to go, but I’m hoping and expecting I’ll be much more ambulatory and in considerably less pain than I’m feeling now.

If, for some reason, here again “expectations,” I’m not quite ready to go, we’d figure that out too. These changes always cost money but do provide options if one is willing to pay the price. And what’s is more important than good health?

Bushbucks and francolins get along quite well.

Yes, we cautiously holding back a degree of enthusiasm in going directly to Ireland from here. In doing so, we’ve had to change many plans in between. As mentioned in this post from February 27th, that explains it all. 

Sadly, we’ll miss visiting family for three weeks in the USA in April as previously planned. However, we’ll see them all in November, a mere seven months later. We’d played it out in our minds to be with family, which would have been a little over a month from now. 

But staying here in South Africa made the most sense to be close to the doctors who have treated me through this process. Also, I can’t say I’d feel safe flying such a long distance after such a short period since the big surgery. The risk of blood clots is quite high in the three months after bypass surgery.

A little kudu antics over the pellets.

Yes, our expectations for this period in time were very different than where we are now. But, we took this risk on October 31, 2012, when we left Minnesota to begin our years-long journey. 

Still, we have no regrets. Still, I can say this past year, from February 11, 2018, the day we arrived in Marloth Park until February 11, 2019, has been one of the happiest and most fulfilling years of my life, and I “expect” Tom would agree.

In reality, we were probably in the right place at the right time for this “unexpected” health crisis to occur; top quality medical care at reasonable costs, a house we could continue to rent without the necessity of a cumbersome move and of course, friends all around us as an unbelievable support system.

Two boy kudus and one girl.  Although there’s plenty of vegetation for them to eat since the huge rains, they still enjoy the pellets.

Then again…there’s them…our beautiful wildlife friends who visit every day that brings so much joy, I can feel the positive hormones pumping through my body. There can’t be a much better source of aiding in healing than the wildlife that comes to call day after day, night after night. 

My “expectation” is that they will continue to visit, and Mother Nature rarely disappoints. 

We’ll be thinking of all of you who continue to write, sending the kindest and most thoughtful expressions and well wishes for good health and recovery! Have a fantastic Sunday! 

Photo from one year ago today, March 3, 2018:

A youngster stopped to nurse.  For more photos, please click here.

Exercise and other causes…Why me?…

Tom spotted this giant snail outside his hotel room in Nelspruit while I was in the hospital.

“Sighting of the Day in the Bush”

This adorable female kudu  is suffering from TB, as indicated by the tumor on the left side of her face,

As I’ve spent several hours each day resting, walking, and napping, I’ve had plenty of time for serious thought as to why I became a candidate for open-heart surgery.

Was it from the recent lack of exercise since we arrived in Marloth Park over a year ago? Was it the low carb, high fat, moderate protein diet I’ve been on since August 2011 or the high carb, the low-fat, moderate-protein diet I diligently followed for most of my adult life?  Science is confused by these questions.

Over the past several years, we’ve been told by the government what we should be eating and avoiding to maintain a level of health and fitness. These dictates didn’t improve the overall health of citizens throughout the world when many countries followed the American way of eating; too much sugar, salt, starch, and carbs, and still numbers were rising on the scales of poor health.

In today’s medical science, it is still unclear what contributing factors play the highest role in the causality of developing clogged arteries, such as my 100% blocked three of four coronary arteries. Many blame dietary fat while others say dietary fat is not the issue…it’s the cholesterol made by our bodies. What did I possibly do wrong?

It’s sad to see that her days are numbered.

The three cardiac physicians working with me during the eight days I spent in the ICU had no suggestions on what I could do going forward to prevent this from happening to me again in 10 years. That wasn’t very comforting. 

I repeatedly asked, “What can I do differently” and the answer was always the same…nothing. They agreed my way of eating, happy, low-stress lifestyle, and level of activity are commensurate with our life of world travel. They decided upon the deceit perpetrated by my good blood test …nothing appeared to be wrong.

So I’m left with one route to go – to follow the exercise program recommended by the three physicians and worldwide heart health professionals. And, it has begun since we returned to Marloth Path, actually in the ICU unit and the hospital during my many days in residence. Walking. 

Plain and simple, walking. No hand weights, no particular pace other than one that increases the heart rate to a level that allows talking during the process. That’s it. This act continued from my 11 days in hospital.

The walking began within 24 hours of the removal of the intubation tube. Simply walking was laborious to a point beyond my expectations, limited by a lack of mobility with all the tubes, drains, and IV’s still attached.  

Mom and Babies were searching for pellets.

By the time we returned to Marloth Park last Saturday, I was able to walk for 10 minutes. Today, as directed by the take-home instructions, I upped the ante to 15 minutes twice a day. This is not much in the realm of things, but it takes everything I have to get through the 10 minutes, let alone the added ten minutes as of today.

Where do I walk?  I use a timer on my phone in the house, ensuring I don’t quit 30 seconds earlier than required. Eventually, I’ll be able to walk on a road. At this point, I don’t trust my wobbly state of being to venture out on the pot-holed, uneven dirt roads near the house. In due time…falling would be a disaster.  

The goal is to walk for 60 minutes per day in two 30-minute sessions. Knowing myself, once I reach such a goal, I will add my old exercise program to further my strength and fitness.  

There’s no health club in Marloth Park, but hopefully, there will be a facility in Ireland near the house we rented in Connemara. The options look good from our online research.

Today we experienced load shedding for only about one hour. Another is expected at 1500 hours, 3:00 pm, and again tonight at 2330 hours, 11:30 pm to last 2.5 hours. We’ll see how it goes.

Have a fantastic weekend!

Photo from one year ago today, March 2, 2018:
A herd of impalas at the river.  For more photos, please click here.

Patient expertise…What does it require?…

Ms. Bushbuck and growing baby come to call.

“Sighting of the Day in the Bush”

They often stop by for pellets, apples, and carrots.

Note: Load shedding is back on.  We expect a 2 .5 hour outage within the hour.
We apologize for the lack of photos.  This morning’s rain and the trip to Nelspruit made photo-taking difficult.


With rain throughout the area, we decided to leave earlier than planned to make our way to Nelspruit for my first “after-care” visit with the thoracic surgeon who performed the triple coronary bypass a mere 17 days ago.

I’d made a list on my phone of my areas of concern which included the following:

  • Burning feet at night – What I’d assumed…peripheral neuropathy, at times diagnosed after this type of surgery, usually resolving in a few months.
  • Pain in right chest wall – A torn muscle from moving my arm too quickly on the night the power was out.
  • Bleeding incision – As Dr. Phillip stated on Wednesday, it’s a hematoma underneath the which bleeds when irritated during s shower but not bleeding from deep inside my thigh.
  • Side sleeping (which I prefer) – May be done as long as it doesn’t cause pain.
And so it went. My pain and discomfort are entirely normal at this point. I felt a sense of relief knowing my symptoms were within the range of “normal” based on this point in time. 
 
We spoke with the woman who’d had the same surgery on the same day I’d had who went into “theatre” several hours before me. She’s nine years younger than me and was doing much better than I have. But the doc explained that each person is different, and recovery will follow accordingly.  
 
This knowledge provided is with more peace of mind, and now I’ll sit back, doing my exercises and feeling more confident that I will fully recover from this challenging surgery in due time. We don’t return to see the doctor until four weeks from today.  
 
I will be patient and not push it too hard, gradually adding to my activity level, eating healthy meals, rest as needed, and maintaining a positive state of mind.
 
Speaking of being patient, today I’m posting my perception over this past week as to what it takes to be an excellent patient to my exceptional caregiver, Tom, making his tasks a little easier over this long haul which could prove to be as long as three months.
 
  1. The tone of voice -Sure, it hurts. Sure, it’s tough to get out of a chair, off the sofa, or into and out of bed when using arms and elbows are prohibited over these first few weeks. We don’t realize how much we depend on our arms and hands to assist us in moving from one position to another, from one room to another, etc. The tone of voice in asking for assistance is everything.  Instead of saying, “I need help,” how about, “Honey, can you help me stand up?” This pleasant tone may make all the difference in the world in the enthusiasm of the caregiver in assisting in all areas.
  2. No whining, whinging, complaining – The caregiver can’t change the terrible circumstances, nor can they make the pain disappear. Complaining provides no benefit other than when a groan or moan is precipitated by certain actions. After all, we are humans and tend to make it known to all surrounding parties that a certain task is difficult, exhausting, or downright impossible.
  3. Expressing thankfulness – It’s a huge responsibility to be a caregiver and seldom includes remuneration among couples or close parties. A heartfelt “thank you” goes a long way, especially when accompanying the completion of any task together. One can never say “thank you” too many times in a day, here again using a pleasant and sincere tone of voice.
  4. Don’t criticize how household tasks are performed, which generally the patient may have done. Each individual has their way of doing things, and attempting to “re-educate” the caregiver is unkind and selfish.
  5. Don’t complain about meals – Perhaps the patient was the sole preparer of food and meal planning.  Suddenly this task is taken over by the caregiver who a). May not know how to cook or b). Doesn’t enjoy cooking. Firstly, eat the food prepared as long as it fits within the parameters of any special meals as prescribed by the doctor. Secondly, make positive statements to the caregiver about flavor, presentation, or ease used in preparing the meals. Thirdly, if the caregiver asks what you’d like to eat, choose simple and easy to prepare items, not fancy recipes that require time and attention.  If there is something special you’re craving, ask the caregiver to find such prepared items on their next trip to the market. Try to suggest meals you know you’ll both enjoy rather than the caregiver deeming it necessary to cook two separate meals.
  6. Bathing, dressing, showering – Most likely, based on your condition, performing these daily rituals on your own makes the caregiver’s job much more manageable. Only ask for assistance in those areas you find dangerous to do on your own or complex during this period. Do not attempt to perform tasks on your own that only exacerbate your medical issues. You’re not doing either of you a favor.
  7. Each day set aside time when your needs are minimal to allow the caregiver a break – This may be while you nap, read or play a game on a device. Most likely, the caregiver is experiencing some stress, and a designated rest period for them may be all it takes to keep them upbeat.
  8. During periods of ill health or during recovery, there’s never a time that expressing love, affection, and gratitude doesn’t serve you both well. A gentle hug, a tender kiss, or a kind word or compliment will never be lost during this period and, of course, well into the future.
Memories of this recovery period can be a pleasant extension of an already great relationship. Negative comments, behavior, and attitude will ultimately tarnish the relationship.
 
And so, dear readers, we end today’s post with these thoughts in mind and hope, should you ever be the caregiver or patient, you can do so with grace, dignity, and a bit of humor thrown in on the side.
 
Happy day to all.

Photo from one year ago today, March 1, 2018:

This is most likely a lone male elephant as explained here: “Male or bull elephants have very different social needs than the females. In the wild, males leave or are driven out of the family group as they approach sexual maturity. Males spend as much as 95% of their lives alone or in loose association with other bulls.” For more, please click here.