Sadness over “Notre Dame Cathedral…Over 30 flights of steps to navigate…

 
We took the following photos of Notre Dame at dusk while on a Seine River dinner cruise.  See this link for photos of the extraordinary meal and scenery.

“Sighting of the Day in the Bush”

Duikers are incredibly cautious around warthogs, especially when there’s food being offered. Tom makes a special effort to ensure the smallest of the antelope in Marloth Park is given pellets when no pigs are nearby.

We were in Paris. On August 8, 2014, we embarked on a fantastic cruise on the River Seine for a night we’ll never forget. We posted the story and photos the following day at this link.

If you are a foodie, you may enjoy seeing some of the foods we feasted on that particular night. I particularly recall the foie gras, but at the time, I wasn’t aware of the cruelty inflicted upon ducks and geese to produce the delicacy.  Since that discovery, I will no longer partake.

See here for details on how this is done:
“Foie gras is considered a luxury food product made of the liver of a duck or goose that has been specially fattened. By French law, foie gras is defined as the liver of a duck or goose fattened by force-feeding corn with a feeding tube, a process also known as gavage.”

Few people worldwide aren’t aware of the recent fire at the historic gothic church, which will be restored within a few years and once again open to the public. 

At the time, I wasn’t drinking alcohol of any type, including wine (which may be my fate in the future, after recent events). Tom consumed both his and my glasses of French champagne,  an entire bottle of white wine and half of the bottle of red wine served with the meal.  

He never drinks wine but seemed to enjoy it that night when his usual cocktail wasn’t available. He hasn’t had a glass of wine since that night, although it’s been offered to him on many occasions.

We’d booked two weeks in Paris at a lovely hotel close to the Eiffel Tower when we realized it’s not practical to “travel the world” and never see Paris or London.  Afterward, we took the Eurostar, aka “the chunnel,” to London after our two weeks in Paris had ended and stayed in another great hotel in South Kensington.

Neither of us had been to Paris, and for years I longed to see the historical and romantic city. For Tom, who consented to my desire, Paris wasn’t on his radar.  But, as we often do, in our world travels…compromise. As it turned out, we both had a good time visiting many of the popular tourist attractions.

The historic structure was impossible to capture in one photo, especially at night from the river.

Included in our Paris itinerary was a tour we booked online to visit the Notre Dame Cathedral, which included climbing the 30 plus flights of stairs, and, as mentioned above, have few, if any, places to stop to rest.

After we booked the tour of Norte Dame, I couldn’t stop thinking of all of those steps. At the time, I had no idea that I was suffering from severe coronary artery disease.  

Somehow, after booking the tour of the Notre Dame Cathedral for the three days before the scheduled date,  for which we’d spent a non-refundable ZAR 3264 US $116, I had terrible angst over the prospect of climbing all of those stairs.

Tom’s eyes were also riveted on the beautiful scenery.

I was hesitant to say anything to Tom about not going. After all, we’d paid for the tour, and both wanted to see the historical and magnificent gothic church.  What first-time tourists to Paris don’t visit Notre Dame (especially after they’d already paid for the tour in advance)?

As I continued to read about the tour, I became more and more hesitant to go. The monies we spent became irrelevant because I realized there was no way I could climb 30 plus flights of stairs. Was it a hunch on my part that I don’t dare climb those stairs when doctors recently explained my arteries were blocked for decades, not for months or a few years?

Perhaps, it was. I took a deep breath in the morning as we were getting ready to go and suddenly blurted out, “I don’t want to go.” Tom looked at me with his head slightly tilted, “No problem. We won’t go if you don’t want to.”  

A wave of relief washed over me. I had worried about telling him for nothing. He never presses me to do anything I don’t feel comfortable doing, even if it cost us a non-refundable ZAR 3264 US $116.  

We didn’t go. It nagged at me for a few days that I’d been afraid to go, but at the time, I didn’t know why I didn’t want to other than fear of the stairs which I didn’t mention to Tom at the time.  I didn’t want him to worry, nor did I understand why I was worried. Now I know.

Tom was undoubtedly enjoying the included two bottles of wine plus two glasses of champagne served when we were seated. He prefers white over red.

From this site:
“You can explore the cathedral’s belfry and climb another 147 steps to the top of the south tower. The total climb is 387 steps, and there aren’t a lot of places to rest along the way, so we recommend climbing the towers only if you’re in reasonably good shape.”

I felt in reasonably good shape. There was a day we walked over five miles while in Paris (according to my Fitness watch), and I did ok, although exhausted at the end of the day. And, we walked a lot in our world travels up to that point and beyond. But, never so many flights of stairs at one time.

We continued with our remaining tours without incident and ultimately had a good time in Paris. We loved seeing many other points of interest you can find in our archives for August 2014. It’s hard to believe that we were there five years ago.

As for the fire at Notre Dame Cathedral, we’ve been reading many articles about how this fire may have been started. It’s a hot topic of conversation right now and will be for years to come. We won’t get into the varying views and opinions as we may draw our conclusions. 

Whether it was accidental or perpetrated by humans committing heinous acts of arson won’t be known for quite some time. The early reports are conflicting and uncertain.

For whatever reason, we’re pleased to know that enough of the magnificent structure was spared to allow for renovation and restoration. Perhaps, I too was limited to allow for renovation and restoration from which I continue to recover each day. 

Ironically (or not), this is Holy Week, and it will be Easter on Sunday. We offer our love and prayers for all who celebrate.

Be well.

Photo from one year ago today, April 19, 2018:

Notice this little three-point design on this zebra’s upper leg. Each zebra has a unique pattern of stripes. Each animal has its distinctive markings and distinguishable features making it easy to identify repeat visitors. For more photos, please click here.

Stuck in my own reality…Telling it like it is…

Lion showing off her tongue.

“Sighting of the Day in the Bush”

Too cute for words…mom and baby duiker have been stopping by each day.

Once I started sharing details here of my ongoing recovery from triple coronary bypass surgery on February 12th,  I backed myself into a corner, not one I can’t easily extricate myself from.


If I abruptly stop mentioning how I’m doing, we’ll receive an insurmountable number of emails inquiring how I’m doing.  I love this about all of you…your kindness and concern are more than I ever dreamed possible.


If I sugarcoat it, when and if it takes a turn for the worse I have to wriggle my way out of “lie of omission” to ensure regardless of what happens, I’ve updated our readers with the truth.

We love piglets.  They are such fun to watch.

We always strive to tell it like it is, even if the facts are unpleasant, disappointing, repetitious or tiresome.  In this particular scenario, I cringe at the thought of becoming repetitious and tiresome.  

Good grief, we’ve shared the gruesome details for the past almost three months.  When are we getting back to the business of world travel and all that it entails, the breathtaking scenery, the enticing people, the heartwarming wildlife, the sights and sounds of another country, another culture?  Soon, we hope.


Today, reality prevails over all else, all of my hopes and optimistic expectations are tossed aside for sharing real life with our worldwide readers, and sometimes, it’s just not pretty.
Closeup of hippo face.  Charming.

Keep in mind, as I share today’s latest news, that often readers write expressing their experiences, the experiences of people they know and even experiences from people they don’t know.  At times, the news is daunting and terrifying although I appreciate their good intentions.


Mostly, the content of these emails revolve around trying to convince me to seek medical care elsewhere when many have a perception that medical care in this country is no better than its unstable infrastructure…you, know, no electricity, no water, no wifi for hours at a time.


But, generally speaking, that’s not the case here.  Overall, medical care in South Africa is as good as in any developed country and in many cases, better.  Doctors come from all over the globe, to fine-tune their skills, offering free services (such as Doctors-Without-Borders) to those who cannot afford it or aren’t a part of, nor have access to, the national healthcare system.

Mom and baby wildebeest in Kruger National Park.

Like many countries with national healthcare systems, long waits and less than ideal scenarios exist within that system.  And for that reason, there are private insurance companies, self-funded options and added co-pay options for those who choose.


With private insurance ourselves, we visited a private hospital and those physicians/specialists associated with that type of facility. That’s not to imply in any manner that the national healthcare system and its hospitals, staff and facilities offer inferior care.  


There are many dedicated physicians and support staff whose sole purpose is to provide quality medical care for all.  But, none of these systems, whether as part of the national healthcare system or privatization are infallible.

Dead tree in the middle of a dirt road in Kruger.

However, during my recent medical issues, never for a moment did either Tom nor I feel my care was less than exemplary, as good as, if not better than I’d receive in my home country or any other country in the world.


With this in mind, it never occurred to us to return to the US for further medical care.  Plus, I wasn’t able to fly at that time.  Plus, our insurance policy only covers us while outside the US.  Of course, if we felt the medical care was inferior, we’d have figured out a way to go to another country for treatment, regardless of the out of pocket expenses.


To make a long story short (shorter), the news on my still healing left leg is not where we’d have preferred it to be at this point.  The fault doesn’t lie with my doctors or the quality of care.  

This is a European Roller who will soon leave South Africa to head back to Europe and then return next season.  Such a pretty bird.

It lies within the reality that I still, even after bypass surgery, have inferior blood flow to my legs.  I knew this when I got a bad leg infection in 2017 when I’d walked into the sharp edge of a cardboard box while were in the US.  After three rounds of different antibiotics and considerable care, it took months to heal, not unlike what I am experiencing now.


No doubt, at that time, I had poor circulation in my legs.  I suspected that whenever I got the smallest scratch or nick on my legs, the inferior circulation was the contributing factor in becoming infected and resulting in an outrageously slow healing process.  This is my reality whether I like it or not.  And here I am again.


Today, Dr. Theo removed many of the stitches in my legs but not all.  They just weren’t healed enough to do so.  In my healthier right leg, he left seven stitches intact to be removed in a week and he left many more in my painful left leg. 

This playful baby elephant we spotted in Kruger hangs on to her mom.

He noticed an area with the same type of dead tissue I’d experienced weeks ago when I had to have two surgeries on each leg, once on March 29th and the second on April 1st to remove all the dead tissue.  Now there’s a new batch, a scenario that often requires surgery.


What’s going to happen next?  I don’t know at this point.  We’ll know more next Tuesday when we return to Doc Theo.  Today, as he’d done at each appointment he’s sent photos and a report to the plastic surgeon who operated on me.  Tuesday, we’ll know more.


And so, here we are in medical limbo once again and as much as I’d like to be able to focus on the worse situations others have experienced before me, I’m stuck in my own reality, making every effort to stay hopeful and positive.


I’m meticulously heeding doctor’s orders and keeping myself busy with upbeat activities one can do while lying down with feet up.  We’ve engaged in pleasant chatter, enjoyed healthful meals and watched some fun shows on my laptop at night to ensure I sleep with positive thoughts on my mind. 


We’ll stop these medical posts/discussions over this holiday weekend, and focus on other topics over the next few days.  We’ll report back after Tuesday’s early morning appointment with hopefully better news.


For those who celebrate, may you have a joyful and fulfilling Easter weekend, sharing tasty morsels and endless stories with those you love.  For those of you who do not celebrate Easter, may you also share tasty morsels and endless stories with those you love.


Happy day!

__________________________________



Photo from one year ago today, April 18, 2018:

Mom and baby elephant behind a bush  For more photos, please click here.



Getting back into a “travel state of mind”…More favorite photos…

A trio of vultures looking for their next meal.

“Sighting of the Day in the Bush”

This is the first time we’ve seen a baby kudu sucking in our garden. What a lovely scene!

As I sit here on the sofa in the lounge room, feet propped up on a pile of pillows, walker at an easy reach for when I get up, I’m trying to wrap my brain around leaving South Africa in 24 days.

Even if none of this medical stuff had transpired, it would be challenging to think about leaving after living so long in the bush. Did I get it out of my system? I wish I could say I had.

But lying here week after week, unable to go out onto the veranda, has made me wish I could have spent more “up close and personal” time with the wildlife that has visited us over these past 14 months.

A trio of giraffes drinking from the little pond remaining in the Verhami Dam during the heat of summer.

I envisioned, before the medical crisis, that I’d somehow say my goodbyes to my favorites on the last few days before we’d leave. But, now this isn’t likely, and thus my goodbyes will be from inside the house.

It makes me sad to think that they’ll stop by day after day and night after night looking for pellets and animated attention from us and, we won’t be here. Fortunately, they no longer need the pellets and our other offerings to survive with a good supply of vegetation in the park. We’re grateful for that.

I don’t know when holidaymakers will be occupying this house after we leave. Still, surely, they’ll reap the benefits of attracting so many visitors to the garden after this extended stay.

Two female lions were contemplating their next move.

However, regardless of the limitations of my still painful left leg, we’re moving on.  Surely, by the next few weeks, I’ll be able to handle the dressings independently. But, if need be, we’ll find a good doctor nearby that will assist in the ongoing treatment of my leg.  

Perhaps after tomorrow, when the stitches are removed, I’ll feel some relief and will be able to start walking again. I’m grossly behind on the necessary walking regime after coronary bypass surgery, but as soon as I’m able, I’m looking forward to rebuilding my strength and muscle tone.

Lying around all day (and night) has a deleterious effect on one’s strength and conditioning. I will have to start all over again, beginning at walking a mere 10 minutes a day and progressing from there.  

A young male whose mane has yet to grow fully.

We’ve decided, no matter what, we’ll arrange a wheelchair for me at the various airports along our journey to Ireland. It’s unrealistic to assume I’ll be able, in a mere 24 days, to walk the long distances required in most airports.

And now, as the time nears, I’m working on psyching myself to return to my previous “travel state of mind.” The enthusiasm, the excitement, and the fervent anticipation are feelings that had alluded me since the end of January when all of this began.

Lazy days…

I am bound and determined to get myself there well before we depart. These same feelings drive a person not only to emotionally prepare for the journey but to become enthused enough to start packing.

The thought of looking out the window of our next holiday home in Connemara, Ireland, and seeing the vast ocean before us may be inspirational enough to drive me forward to this next phase of our lives.

Naptime in Kruger.

Be well. Be happy. And dream of what is yet to come.

Photo from one year ago today, April 17, 2018:

Tom took this photo one year ago that still makes me laugh…Mutton Chops on the left and Scar-Face on the right, already on his knees in prime position for eating pellets. Of course, we complied. We love it when these two stop by, often twice a day. We haven’t seen these two in six months and hope they’ll return before we leave in 24 days. For more photos from that date, please click here.

Hurried trip back to Doc Theo…More favorite photos…

Mom and Babies. Look how small they were!

“Sighting of the Day in the Bush”

This handsome male bushbuck has become a regular visitor to our garden.

Ironically, it was one year ago today that we visited Dr. Theo in Komatipoort for the first time. We needed to update a few vaccinations based on our intended long-term stay in South Africa and other countries we’d visit while in Africa. The link to the year-ago post may be found here.

We wouldn’t have been concerned about updating our vaccines if we had only been here for a month or two. But, close to wildlife, we were particularly interested in updating the rabies vaccine.  

Beautiful waterbucks were resting on islands in the river.

We felt we weren’t overly cautious with all the feeding we do and our frequent exposure to mongooses who are known to carry rabies. It was this day, one year ago, that we met Dr. Theo for the first time.

Little did we know at the time that he, this general practitioner in the small town of Komatipoort, South Africa (population around 5000), would ultimately be the man who saved my life.

An elephant eating vegetation in the Crocodile River.

Yesterday afternoon, for no reason I could determine, my left leg became so painful that nothing I could do would put an end to the pain; not the non-narcotic pain pills, not putting it up on pillows where it has been each day for weeks; not taking deep breaths and trying to work through it.

Had the infection returned? Had I caused the wound to open further on my short walks from the sofa to the bathroom and back or what? After a few hours with no let-up, I called Dr. Theo’s office to find they’d had a cancellation, and he could see me in a few hours.  

The first time Ms. Bushbuck brought her calf to visit. What a joy it’s been to see her grow.

This wasn’t the first time we’d made a same-day appointment with the doctor when the pain became almost unbearable. There have probably been three times this painful scenario transpired, leaving us both wondering if something drastic had changed.

In each case, including yesterday’s visit, it was more of the same… severe ulceration in a surgical wound that, although it is no longer infected, still causes awful pain based on its proximity to my ankle bone.  

A male and female waterbuck on the river.

When I get up off the sofa or bed, this delicate and sensitive area and its inflamed bundle of nerves at the ankle bone go into a frenzy of pain. It’s not so much that I’ve been scared of what’s going on but more as a precaution to ensure the infection hasn’t returned and needs to be addressed.

I’ve heard stories of people with diabetes having a wound that won’t heal, and perhaps, as much as I don’t like this possibility, this could be my case for many months to come. Most often, these slow-healing wounds are the result of poor blood flow to the legs.

This frog lived on the light fixture on the veranda for many months.  A mate joined her, and a few weeks later, they were gone, never to be seen again.

But, I wonder…since the bypass surgery, shouldn’t the blood flow to my legs have improved? Over the past two years, I had two other leg infections that didn’t entirely heal for months, but I blame those on the lack of blood flow when I had three (of four) coronary arteries 100% blocked.

Have any of our readers out there had a similar experience? If so, please write and let me know the details and ultimately what caused the wound to heal, other than “time.” No doubt, in time, it will heal.

An expansive view of the Crocodile River from Marloth Park.

Dr.Theo re-bandaged the leg and noted it didn’t look any worse than it had when we were there last Thursday. However, he did remind me that the inflammation in my nerves at the ankle bone was most likely responsible for the extreme painfulness. 

We left with encouraging words and hugs from Doc Theo. His brother, Mel, stopped in to say hello and said, “You certainly have been to the brink of hell and back lately!” Yes, I agreed. I certainly have.

How I’ve held it together has not been a stroke of bravery or courage, by any means.  Many of our readers have written to us praising me for being strong. But, the truth is, I did nothing spectacular through all of this other than trying to get through each day with determination, dignity, and hope for the future. 

A hornbill was watching Frank take a dirt bath.

I’ve whined here, which has proven to be a good outlet for my frustration thanks to the patience of our loyal readers who’ve stood beside me. And, although not frequently, I’ve whined a bit to Tom, my loving husband and caregiver, who has experienced his frustration seeing me struggle through this lengthy recovery.

I’ve also whined to my local friends Kathy and Linda, who have tirelessly remained at my side in person, in spirit, and via text for those times they’ve been away. And to all my family and friends out there in the world who have offered encouraging words, love, and support.

This has been a long process, but it has never been a lonely process. I have so much to be grateful for, and don’t forget this for a moment.  Life goes on, and in time, the pain and discomfort will be a distant memory.

Enjoy your day and evening. 

Photo from one year ago today, April 16, 2018:

After the rain, we drove to the river to find this scene…An adorable baby hippo with mom. For more photos, please click here.

Filing medical insurance claims…More favorite photos from the past 14 months…

Tom and I were at my birthday party at Jabula Lodge & Restaurant.

“Sighting of the Day in the Bush”

From this site:  The Katydid leaf bug:  Katydids get their name from the sound they make. Their repetitive clicks and calls sounded like someone saying, “Ka-ty-did,” so that phrase became the common name. Both genders are capable of producing sound. Katydids are related to crickets and grasshoppers, with large back legs for jumping. Unlike grasshoppers, Katydids have incredibly long, thin antennae. Unlike crickets, their bodies are more rhomboidal, like a kite with four equal lengths. They have wings and will fly away from danger. Most sightings occur when they land on an object and linger. Some have even gone on car rides, clinging to the hood of the vehicle.”  Great photo, Tom!

It’s hard to believe it was 14 months ago that we celebrated my 70th birthday with friends at Jabula Lodge & Restaurant, where so many magical nights with friends transpired. It was a memorable evening I will always treasure as one of my favorites.

Living in Marloth Park for an extended period had been my dream after leaving here over five years ago during the first few years of our world travel journey. While in Sumbersari, Bali in 2016, Tom surprised me by telling me we could return to Marloth Park for my 70th birthday. I was ecstatic.

Within weeks we had revised our itinerary to include this lengthy visit, never intending it would go beyond one year when the unthinkable happened, and I had to have triple bypass surgery before we traveled to any other countries.
My 70th birthday cake was made by a local Marloth Park baker.

Based on the fact that living in South Africa is more affordable for Americans than most parts of the world, we felt we could “lick our wounds” from the expensive Antarctica cruise on which we’d embarked on January 23, 2018. When the cruise ended, we headed straight to Marloth Park.

Little did we know, at the time, that we’d be here months after our anticipated “moving on” date, which was planned for February 15, 2019, based on requirements made by immigration.

It was a good plan. At the time, we had no reason to believe our whole world would topple upside down, tossing dreams to the wind while losing tons of money for prepaid and prebooked venues to include flights, cruises, hotels, and tours.  

Kathy in the foreground, Ken in the background.

Fortunately, we didn’t have to cancel any holiday homes during this period, and Louise was able to accommodate our extended stay in the Orange house for three more months than expected while I’d recover.

So, my dream of spending my 70th birthday and ultimately more time in Marloth Park was fulfilled. Little did we know at the time that I’d spent my 71st birthday in the ICU of a small South African hospital. I hardly remember that day.  

It had only been a week since I’d awaken in the recovery room, the second of four times in a few months, intubated, struggling, and in massive amounts of pain. How did I ever get to this place?

Mick at the end of the table.  Look at that great plate of food; steak, butternut, and creamed spinach.

Now, almost nine weeks since the bypass surgery on February 12th, from which I’ve recovered well except for my legs, for which I continue to struggle with pain, discomfort, and frustration. The slow healing of my infected legs, for which I had to return to the hospital for five more days and have two more surgeries, has left me wondering when I’ll be able to walk again without pain.

Over my head, these past weeks have been the frustration over getting the insurance company to pay the ZAR 700000, US $50,223, to the hospital for the major of the four operations for which they’ve only spent a portion at this point.

Remaining unpaid now is the balance on the bypass surgery and our prepaid costs for the overnight stay in the hospital for the angiogram at ZAR 80000, US $5740, and the subsequent five-day hospital stays for two surgeries on my legs at ZAR 130000, US $9327.  

My large Greek salad.

With a ZAR 27876, US $2000, copays required on each of the three above hospitalizations, the insurance company owes us ZAR 210000, US $15044  less the two deductible amounts we paid out of pocket, leaving a balance owed to us for ZAR 154,250, US$11067. (We’d already paid the copay on the bypass surgery).

Based on the insurance company’s lack of cooperation in paying the claims, we’re not optimistic we’ll see reimbursement on any of these claims. Regardless of our speculations today, I started filing the claim for first, the angiogram, and secondly for the leg surgeries and additional five-day hospitalization.

Our friend Dawn, owner of Jabula, and her server are bringing in the birthday cake.

We didn’t want to file the angiogram claim until we knew the bypass surgery amount had been paid. Trudy, the knowledgeable and helpful billing manager at Mediclinic Hospital, did everything she could to assist in this process.

I have forwarded the portion of the form to be completed by the cardiologist and returned to us via email. Once we receive this, we’ll be able to submit the completed forms for that portion.

Staff and friends were singing the birthday song.

Right now, we’re awaiting the total bill for the hospitalization and two surgeries on my legs. Once we receive this, we can file the claim for this portion. Oh, my, the paperwork.  

We often wonder how seniors and others who don’t have access to technology or may find this type of paperwork challenging to comprehend and complete could handle the necessary processes. It has taken me weeks to gain sufficient motivation and clear-headedness to feel like doing this but a 90-day timeline to file the first claim is hanging over my head which ends on May 10th.

I would have started this sooner, but I needed to know that the bulk of the bypass surgery was paid. I found this out on Friday, a few days ago. Now we’re able to proceed.

Danie to the far left, Lynne was bending down, Don at the head of the table with Ken beside him. Louise and Linda were there but not in the photos.

When I think of all the receipts I’ve yet to record and scan before we leave here in 26 days, I cringe. But once these insurance claims are made, I will begin the painstaking process. Under normal conditions, I record receipts every few days, but lately, that hasn’t been on my radar.

Have a great start to the week, and be well.

Photo from one year ago today, April 15, 2018:

A southern ground hornbill we spotted in Kruger National Park. For more photos, please click here.

Apprehensive about flying after four surgeries in past few months?…Favorite photos have begun….

We love this kudu photo after she’d stuck her head in the fresh bales of lucerne we’d had delivered from Daisy”s Den. Cute! We call this kudu “Cupid” based on the heart-shaped marking on her neck.

“Sighting of the Day in the Bush”

There was nothing we’d done to encourage her to come up the steps. She figured this out on her own.

Many of our readers, family, and friends have contacted me asking if I feel confident about flying such a long distance and traveling for almost 24 hours on our way to Ireland in a mere 27 days.

Of course, after four surgeries in the three months before our travel date of May 11th from South Africa to fly to Dublin, Ireland is a bit of a concern but not as risky as one may think.

Based on the fact that three months will have passed by the time we leave South Africa since the most major of the surgical procedures, the triple coronary bypass surgery occurred on February 12, 2019.

Lots of zebras in the garden.

After doing considerable research from highly reputable online medical resources and speaking with my three doctors, cardiologists, cardiothoracic surgeons, and general practitioners, my risks aren’t considerably higher for blood clots, DVT (deep vein thrombosis), or other such occurrences than the general population on long flights.

We’ve yet to book our flight but will do so in the next few days. As a safety precaution, we’re considering booking “business class” to ensure I will be able to lay down during the overnight portion of the flight and give my still recovering legs a chance to be up for better blood flow.

Plus, I will be wearing the strongest of my three pairs of compression stockings, drinking plenty of water, and setting the timer on my phone to remind me to get up and walk around the plane at least once an hour when I’m not sleeping. These simple measures should significantly reduce the risk of an incidence on the aircraft or after that.

The most kudus we had in the garden was 26.  What a busy morning that was!

It’s not unusual for open-heart surgery patients to be apprehensive about flying long distances after their surgery.  But, the fact that I am feeling well after the bypass surgery is a definite plus. However, the still painful condition in my legs is another concern.

Most of the higher risk scenarios are those which include some surgery to the lower limbs. After two leg surgeries, less than six weeks before the flights concerns us more than the bypass surgery.

But, the reality remains, we must leave South Africa. The fact we are going to Ireland instead of the US holds little significance. After reading online at several sites, it appears riding long distances in a car is equally risky after surgery when one is cramped, with legs down and little, if any, movement.

The drive from the Dublin airport to the holiday rental in Connemara is approximately four hours.  \We’ll make a point of stopping several times along the way so I can walk around and stretch my legs, especially after the long flights.

Little is not the only wild animal that’s climbed the steps to the veranda. This zebra had some lofty ideas about finding food.

For more on flying after major surgery, please click here or click here for further information.

I’m not going to get myself into a frenzy regarding traveling long distances after the recent surgeries. Instead, with the recommendations by my doctors, who are confident it is safe for me to fly, we’re hoping for a seamless and positive experience.

As an aside, we’ve begun adding favorite photos to our posts from our over 14 months in South Africa, visiting Botswana, Zambia, and Zimbabwe.  With literally thousands of photos to go through, we’ll make every effort to pick those our readers may enjoy seeing one last time.

Thank you, dear readers, for following along with us not only for the extended period in one location (which we don’t plan to repeat anytime shortly) and for staying with us during this recent medical crisis.  Your loyalty and continued support mean the world to both of us.

Have a pleasing Sunday!

Photo from one year ago today, April 14, 2018:

Seeing a crocodile in the wild is quite exciting. This croc sat there for a very long time with its mouth open.  For more photos, please click here.

The best year of my life…The worst year of my life…

Four baby warthogs were taking a rest together.

“Sighting of the Day in the Bush”

Helmeted guineafowl clamoring over birdseed.

It’s funny how we often get ready to say something and abruptly stop ourselves for fear of jinxing ourselves. Such statements may include, “I haven’t had a cold in years,” or “I’ve never lost a piece of luggage on a flight.”

Then, boom…just like that, you have the worst cold in your life, and you lost a piece of luggage at the airport, never to be returned. When we think about it, it’s merely a coincidence.
 

But, in the realm of things, maybe it’s not. Perhaps it has to do with our innate sense, however un-obvious, that we possess the ability to see what’s on the horizon and possibly make such a statement as a prediction of what is yet to come.

For whatever reason, when we make these statements, we often regret saying them later, wishing we’d kept our enthusiasm to ourselves. Two months before I was diagnosed with three 100% blocked coronary arteries, I found myself espousing how the past year in Africa was the happiest year of my life.

Ms. Bushbuck and helmeted guineafowls.

And then, without warning, the whirlwind of tests, surgeries, and medical treatments began at the end of January and is yet to resolve fully. What happened to the “happiest year of my life?”  

Is that gone now that it’s tinged with this cacophony of frightening and horrific life-threatening, life-altering experiences in the past almost three months? Are the experiences of late going to prevent me, in future conversations, from ever saying the year we spent in South Africa, specifically Marloth Park and regions, is a blur of pain, fear, and financial loss?

At this point, I’m not sure. I recall saying this was the “happiest year of my life” no less than a dozen times in the months before the four surgeries.  Why did I even say this?

In part, since most of these comments were made to residents of Marloth Park, it was done to support the love and passion our friends feel living in this magical place.  

Big Daddy was looking for pellets.

What a wonderful feeling to hear from a friend that a life choice you’ve made to have a residence in another part of the world is also favored by others. In a way, it boosts their confidence that they made such a “right” decision to live in “Wonderland.”

For dear friends Louise and Danie, who are South African, who live in Marloth Park and who are also our landlords, my saying this statement gives them a sense of pride about that which they love and cherish…extolling the virtues of the excellent taste of others.

Nonetheless, I said it, “It was the best year of my life,” living in Marloth Park from February 11, 2018, to February 2, 2019, the day Dr. Theo discovered I have coronary artery disease. And, in essence, it was.

The wildlife, the friendships, the small-town atmosphere, and the simplicity of living “outside the box” in such a remote and unusual location where wild animals wander about the neighborhood, the bush, and ultimately one’s garden was truly spectacular.  

Big Daddy, male bushbuck, and a male duiker were sharing harmoniously.

Nothing can take those memories from me; The cold winter nights when we used the outdoor heater so we could stay outside on the veranda to visit with our animal friends; the trips into Kruger that took our breath away; the sight of Little climbing the steps to find me; and now, to see Mom and Babies, with the fourth piglet, the one who sits down to eat, has finally been reunited with his family.

Adding to all of that and more are the many evenings we spent with friends, partaking in “sundowners,” fabulous dinners, great conversations, and a feeling of really belonging and being a part of this unique environment. Nothing will take that away.

And the past almost three months?  In time, it will fade into oblivion as many bad experiences do, leaving but a trace of wondering why it ever had to happen.
Certainly, it wasn’t due to the fact I’d said, “It was the happiest year of my life.”

Be well. Be happy.

Photo from one year ago today, April 13, 2018:

There’s nothing as heartwarming as any animal, and it’s young, especially baby elephants. For more photos, please click here.

Doctor visit…Some changes…Scars…

Female kudus were resting in the shade.

“Sighting of the Day in the Bush”

Busy morning.

Yesterday morning, we headed to Dr. Theo’s office for bandage changes and for him to check out the still painful open area on my left leg, which has been treated with the vacuum hose and VAC apparatus since I was in the hospital.

The most recent leg surgery had been 10 days earlier, and we hoped for some noticeable improvement while I’ve stayed off my feet since we returned to Marloth Park from the hospital on April 3rd. 
 
Using a borrowed walker (thanks to a kindly neighbor) to go from sofa or bed to the bathroom, I hadn’t walked out on the veranda, the kitchen, or the laundry room in all these days. Tom has continued to do everything around the house; cooking, laundry, clean up, and my constant care.
 

Getting down the steps to the car was tricky as I was walking from the closest parking spot at the doctor’s office to the treatment room inside. This was the most amount of walking I’d done in the week since we’d seen Dr. Theo last Friday.

A young male bushbuck and young male kudu.

The vacuum tube and machine had done their job, and the gaping hole was closing. Theo determined there would be no added benefit to continue using the VAC system, and he disconnected it and re-bandages my legs with the special bacteria-fighting bandages.

Free of the tether, I felt liberated but foolhardy me, made the assumption I could walk a little more without the VAC attached. How wrong I was! After moving around too much in the afternoon, I’m now back on bedrest today with my feet up once again. There’s continuing pain that needs time to resolve. I must be patient.

Also, the added pain of wearing the tight compression stockings (six more weeks) atop the wounds woke me during the night at 3:30 am, and I never went back to sleep.

Doc Theo is confident I am on the mend, but it will become a reality when I can get around on my own two legs without the walker. At the time of the bypass surgery, I recall grumbling about the big scar on my chest up to my throat.  

Warthogs don’t seem to mind hanging out with tiny duikers, although they don’t readily share pellets.

With my local girlfriend’s love and support, we contemplated how I could hide the nasty scar with scarves, jewelry, and high-neck shirts and blouses. It wasn’t so much about having a scar as it was about being stared at or asked questions by glaring strangers.

But as time has passed and the scar has continued to heal, it’s become less noticeable, and above all, I’ve become less self-conscious about it. I won’t be wearing low-cut tops showing cleavage since I was never one to do this anyway, but I won’t be fussing over the scar showing on my neck. I’m alive, aren’t I? That’s what counts in the realm of things.

Then, as the infection ravaged my legs, I became aware that the scars would only be exacerbated by the infections. Over time, that awareness has wafted away as well.  

After all, I’m 71 years old and wouldn’t be traipsing around in skimpy clothing anyway. I may be more inclined to wear long pants and jeans rather than Capri-length pants and shorts, other than around the house with just the two of us.  

A young Big Daddy with growing left to do.

Tom, of course, pays no attention whatsoever to the many changes of late with my health and well-being his only consideration. Isn’t that what love is, after all? That we pay little attention as to how our physical beings change as we age, surgery or not?

Next Thursday, we’ll return to Doc Theo to see how it’s going and again replace the bandages. Once the wounds are healed, I’ll be able to shower once again instead of “sponge baths.” The less-than-ideal water in Marloth Park has kept me out of the shower since the infections began many weeks ago.

No-load shedding this past week, although there were a few power outages for short periods. A few days ago, we were out of water for a few hours. We leave Marloth Park in 29 days, during which we hope to have continuous power.

May your day be gratifying and fulfilling.

Photo from one year ago today, April 12, 2018:

This was the first time we saw Scar Face, one year ago.  He arrived with his friend, Mutton Chops, but after visiting for several months, we never saw them again. Hopefully, he’s healed nicely by now. For more photos, please click here.

One month from today we leave Africa…Immigration…


Wildebeest Willie was meandering down the road after a pleasant visit.

“Sighting of the Day in the Bush”

Little and a mongoose getting along.  Mongooses don’t eat pellets, so no competition for food.

With only one month until we depart Marloth Park to head to Nelspruit to fly to Johannesburg and then on to Dublin, Ireland, after today, we’ll begin posting our favorite photos and videos from the past 14 months we’ve spent in South Africa.

We’ll also include photos from our trips to Zambia, Zimbabwe, and Botswana, which we visited twice during this extended period to get visa extensions.

Speaking of visa extensions, we haven’t heard anything yet from immigration. If we don’t by the time we’re due to leave, we’ll present the medical records and no doubt. They’ll let us go. It’s getting into a most difficult country, not getting out.

Suppose we’re considered “undesirables,” we may be prevented from returning to South Africa for three years.  We’ll see how it goes and share the details here the following day.
Mongoose is trying to crack an egg.

Our friends have asked…what if my legs aren’t better?  How can we leave? My right leg is healed enough to be able to walk, while the left leg is problematic. If necessary, we’ll use a wheelchair at the various airports along the way, and once we arrive in Ireland, we’ll seek further medical treatment there if needed.

In other words, we’re leaving one month from today, and that’s all there is to it. I didn’t ever want to leave Marloth Park feeling as if we were anxious to go. After all, we are “world travelers,” and we aren’t seeing much of the world now.

Yes, I know, these unexpected and shocking series of medical woes and operations have thrown us off track, but once this left leg heals, nothing is holding us back from continuing. Every few years, I will arrange to see a cardiologist for a few tests to see how I’m doing.

My family, bless their hearts and good intentions, are adamant that we should return to the US, rent a place, and seek medical care. But, I refuse to be the perpetual patient and have absolutely no interest in moving to Scottsdale, Arizona, to be close to the Mayo Clinic.

A male bushbuck and a female duiker were sharing pellets.  Duikers are the smallest antelopes in Marloth Park and Kruger National Park.

Of course, we’ll be careful and most likely make our two to three-month stays in any country close to medical facilities if needed. We may not choose to live in the most remote areas of the world as we’ve done in the past. Nor will we limit ourselves to only visiting big cities.

There’s always a middle ground, always a compromise, and the world is a prominent place with so much we’ve yet to experience. I’m sure when we look back in years to come to these post-cardiac bypass years, we’ll have many beautiful memories with plenty of stories and photos to share with our worldwide readership.

The cardiac surgeon didn’t give me a good prognosis with the remaining bad arteries in my chest and around my heart, saying the surgery was a “band-aid,” a temporary fix. But, once any of us reaches our senior years, we have no idea how much time “we have left” and may choose to live every moment to the fullest. That’s precisely what we plan to do.  

Kudus in the garden this morning.

It becomes a question of quality instead of quantity, and we’ll always choose quality if that option is available to us.  No doubt, sometimes it is not. But, all of us can decide how we want to live our lives, the so-called “golden years” that wouldn’t be so bright and shiny if we were feeling trapped living in a condo near a hospital.

We remain grateful and hopeful for the future. May you choose to do the same.

Photo from one year ago today, April 11, 2018:

For this heartwarming story that unfolded before our eyes, an ostrich family reuniting…please click here. Notice dad coming their way from a distance.

Tom is quite the cook…Flatties…Today he’s baking…

Mr. Nyala likes it here. It was a delight for Tom to see him again this morning and to be able to take these photos.

“Sighting of the Day in the Bush”

The kudus left, and he stands in our garden forlorn, wondering when he will see her again. As two distinct species, it’s unlikely they will mate and produce offspring.  However, there was a case of the mating of a female nyala and a male kudu. See the scientific article here.

Since I had to go back into the hospital for the surgery on my legs, Tom has thrown caution to the wind and has been eating some of his favorite foods; toast in the morning, muffins from the market’s bakery with coffee, and a bowl of vanilla ice cream at night.

Who am I to tell him what to eat when he spends most of his days and part of his nights taking care of me? I haven’t said a word. In one way, you’d think he’d want to eat a healthy diet after seeing me struggle after the complex bypass surgery.

But after hearing from three doctors that heredity plays the most significant part in our health, and being from a family of longevity, he wanted comfort foods during this challenging time for both of us. It’s not unusual to seek “comfort” foods during times of stress. I’ve always lost my appetite when stressed or worried, but I think I’m more the exception than the rule.  

During these past months, I’ve been thoroughly enjoying Tom’s cooking. At present, I am not allowed to be on my feet for more than a minute while holding onto the walker, leaving me unable to cook a thing or make a salad.

He’s the only nyala in Marloth Park. It’s no wonder he was fascinated with the female kudus.

Again, last night he made chicken “flatties” which is a popular item for the braai in South Africa, a butterflied whole chicken well seasoned in a variety of flavors: garlic, sweet and spicy, Portuguese, barbecue, peri-peri (a mix of hot spices) and so forth.  

We often opt for the garlic and barbecue, figuring less sugar was used in preparing the spices. He always cooks two flatties, enough for two dinners, in one large pan, adding whole mushrooms to the pan while cooking along with pre-cooked whole carrots prepared directly on the grill about a half-hour before the flatties are done.

He doesn’t turn the mushrooms in the pan. They cook evenly in the juices, but he frequently turns the carrots cooking directly over the fire to ensure they don’t burn but caramelize for the best-tasting carrots on the planet. 

He steps in a bit closer.

Those who eat potatoes or other starchy vegetables could easily be peeled, cut into chunks, and added to the pan with the mushrooms. At the two-hour mark, the flatties are done, and Tom separates the white from the dark meat and makes up our plates.

He likes white meat, and I prefer dark. One flatties between us in the perfect amount for a meal since they are relatively small. Using my hands, albeit very messy, I take off the skin and bones and thoroughly enjoy the moist, dark meat with the mushrooms and carrots.

Honestly, I never made a chicken, flattie, or otherwise, tasting as good as his. In the future, long after I can cook again, we’ll undoubtedly cut whole chickens into flatties shapes and have Tom prepare them.  

He’s feigning interest in the pellets when in fact, he’s much more interested in her.

We’ve never seen flatties in countries other than those in Africa. But, we certainly can improvise and follow suit wherever we may be. It’s interesting how South Africans cook most of their meals on the braai instead of the stovetop or oven.  

It’s all a part of the commiserating and socialization of people gathering around the grill or open fire of the popular concept of the braai, which is prevalent and cultural here in South Africa, over other parts of the world.

We don’t have flatties every night, but right now, it’s a familiar and easy meal for him to prepare, which we both enjoy. He’s made many favorite recipes lately but commented on the occasion that my version of the meal was tastier than his, but I can hardly agree when everything he makes tastes good to me.

He moves in for the “big sniff,” perhaps realizing that is all he’s going to get.

As for meals for the remainder of the day, I don’t care to eat much in the morning upon awakening and instead drink my fresh squeezed lemon water to start the day. I miss drinking coffee, and perhaps someday I will take it up again, but the lemon water is refreshing now.

When it’s as hot as it has been lately, I’ve had little interest in drinking hot tea. But, by 10:30 am, Tom made my healthful smoothie which the doctor insisted was necessary to increase the amount of protein in my diet.  Protein is necessary to aid in wound healing.

Right now, I’m striving for no less than 100 grams of protein daily, almost twice my usual allotment. Taking the extra protein via a high-quality protein powder and bone broth in a daily smoothie has been an excellent way to accomplish this without having to stuff myself eating foods I don’t feel like eating at this point.

Ms. Bushbuck is too cute for words.

This morning, Tom is baking for himself, using my recipe for an old favorite of his, Coconut Banana Bread. It’s currently in the oven and smelling good. I won’t partake in this due to the flour, sugar, and bananas, none of which I consume, but I’ll certainly appreciate his enjoyment of the recipe. In our old lives, before I changed my way of eating,  I may have had a slice with a cup of coffee in the morning. It was pretty delicious.

Soon, Tom will make my smoothie using the following ingredients:
One scoop bone broth powder
Two scoops of protein powder
1/2 cup purified water plus enough ice to make a thick drink
2 T. cocoa, unsweetened
One whole avocado, peeled and cut into chunks
1 cup fresh spinach
Sweetener of choice

This is a delicious and nutritious beverage and meal replacement once the blender whirred for a smooth consistency. After drinking the smoothie, I am full until dinner.

She’s been visiting us daily since we arrived in Marloth Park 14 months ago.

Any improvement in my legs? I’ve noticed a little less pain when walking short distances using the walker from sofa to bed to bathroom. I still don’t put any weight on my left leg, but I seem OK doing so on the right.

We return to Dr. Theo for another complicated dressing change tomorrow morning, considering the drain and pumping VAC system connected to my left leg.  We’ll know more tomorrow. According to the plastic surgeon, I should be able to walk within a week or so.

I can’t wait to get back out on the veranda to see my wildlife friends!

Be well.

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

Each night when I was able to sit on the veranda, we put out the little cup of flavored yogurt on the stand for the bushbabies.  Hopefully, we’ll be able to do this again soon. For more photos, please click here.