Tag: life

My Emergency Room Journey: Insights and Reflections

July 6, 2025

I discovered I lost seven pounds. It was not a diet; I spent four days at the hospital, a day in the emergency observation unit, and then three days on a ward. What took me there was high fever alternating with chills in between and a general crappy feeling.

Kathy dropped me off at the Emergency entrance of the Civic Hospital, where I showed my health card and was told to sit down and join the fifty other patients in the waiting room. I observed with interest the people, some of whom did not seem to be sick at all, while others were in wheelchairs. There were people of all ages, and all ethnicities dressed informally.

The elderly gentleman, with a white beard and a black t-shirt featuring a giant fox on the front, impressed me because he wore a t-shirt befitting a teenager while having the demeanor of an academic. His partner gently guided him along while he also brandished a cane.

And then a huge African Canadian man squeezed himself into the narrow chair next to me, in a cloud of perfume, wearing multiple chains around his neck with his long hair neatly braided. Excuse me, I thought there were signs advising against using any perfume. Then he got up when the loudspeaker system called for Josephine.

Then the triage nurse took my vital health signs and gave me a bottle for a urine sample, assuming I could void at that time. I rejoined the waiting room after completing what I was instructed to do. An hour later, I was called to the registration station, where an agent placed a paper bracelet on my wrist with my DOB, name, and ID number.  

Then it was back to the waiting room again, where a sudden commotion broke out with three large policemen pushing a hollering woman into the room. Many people averted their eyes while I wanted to see why she was yelling, “I cannot take this anymore.” The policemen waited for the staff to take the hollering individual off their hands.

Complicating this atmosphere of general buzz, a young girl was throwing up, and people were getting up to register at different windows. Ambulance drivers were also pushing gurneys through the waiting room. You would think that waiting for treatment would be boring; I found the entire scene fascinating to observe. It appeared to be controlled chaos. 

I thought of getting a cup of coffee and some food to carry me through after a few hours of waiting, only to discover that the vending machines were not working. Kathy went outside and entered the main hospital door, where there were fast food places, and picked up some food for me. I wondered how people without a companion would obtain food without missing their turn when called. Finally, they called my name and instructed me to follow the yellow dots on the floor, which led to the “urgent care” door. Nine colored dots were running in parallel and then peeling off in different directions.

In one of the examining rooms in the urgent care unit, they took my blood from both arms and put me through tests. An hour later, a medical student interviewed me and said he would advise the emergency doctor, who would then advise me on the next steps. In the meantime, I socialized with my neighbor, a young woman with sepsis, who showed me a portion of her arm from where four skinny hoses hung out of a port. I did not think I wanted to further our medical conversation about her history of sepsis.

 I had been here for over five hours when the Emergency Department doctor showed up and explained that I seemed to be alright overall but had an infection and ordered a CT scan of my pelvic region. My mind did not connect the CT scan with my complaint that brought me in here; it was beyond my comprehension. I just waited to have the scan completed and then waited again until the nurse showed up with a couple of pages of text and a prescription for two medicines. One was an antibiotic, while the other had something to do with acid reflux and GERD; the latter was a complete mystery to me. But I was drained and happy to get out after seven hours in the ED without asking any further questions.

The antibiotic prescription did not work; after four days, I still had a fever and chills. I found antibiotics to work in a day or so in the past, so it was time to go back to the hospital, this time to another one, the Queensway Carleton. After seeing the triage nurse, I was pleasantly surprised when a young attendant quietly asked me if I was Andy. When I said that it was me, she asked me to follow her into the ED observation rooms, where they put me in a cubicle. I asked the attendant how she knew who I was and found out that I looked my age and was the only one of my age in the waiting room, one benefit of growing old.

They performed all the blood work and testing again, and then it was a matter of waiting again. However, I knew I could ask for some food that they provided for lunch, a nice feature. In this ED, a doctor came around to discuss my symptoms, and later the internal medicine doctor came and provided a diagnosis that was satisfying, knowing that he was pretty convinced I had a tickborne infection called anaplasmosis. The reason the previous antibiotic did not work, in his opinion, was that it did not address this infection; it targeted Lyme disease. By the way, I have recently read several articles about the proliferation of ticks in the Northeast, attributed to the warming climate.

So, the treatment started with an IV drip and doxycycline pills, a double attack to begin the healing, while waiting for the blood analysis proving that it was anaplasmosis. Start the treatment and save time while waiting for confirmation.

Now, if you have ever been in an ED space overnight, you know that it is not the place for a quiet sleep. The traffic was constant all night, in addition to the nurses taking your vital signs every couple of hours. So, little snippets of sleep, each two hours in duration, was my night. The next day, they found a room for me upstairs, advising me that my infection had to improve before they would let me go home.

I was miffed to find out that I was in a geriatric ward until my daughter informed me that I was one of them chronologically, if not by physical condition.

Sleeping in the ward was a bit better than sleeping in the ED space, although bells were ringing all night, patients were requesting attention, and the nurses still checked my vitals every three hours, day and night.

Furthermore, I found out I was in a ward with Alzheimer’s patients, and my next-door neighbor was either yelling, listening to a radio, or crying. I heard the nurse coming, informing her colleagues that she brought some “great” music for the gentleman next door: Nat King Cole and Dolly Parton. Fortunately, I enjoy a wide range of music. By the way, I couldn’t leave the ward without someone taking me, due to the type of ward I was in.

And then the nurse came in with the news that I would have to wear a pulsating sleeve on my leg, powered by an air pump, to prevent a blood clot from forming due to lying in bed all day (the name of the gadget was a sequential compression comfort sleeve). Wait a minute, I said, what do I do when I have to void at night? No problem, the nurse said, “You just take off the sleeve. I didn’t like the idea at all, since I get up a few times a night. Without saying another word, the nurse left and consulted with someone. When she returned, she explained that instead of the sleeve, I would get a shot in my belly to thin my blood. I had no choice at this time.

With the daily blood work showing improvement, they decided to let me go home in three days with a doxycycline prescription for another four days. And a follow-up visit with the infectious disease doctor.

Overall, I would have preferred not to have the experience. But going from feeling awful to good was worth it. The amount of attention I received from the nurses and doctors was genuinely excellent at the Queensway Carleton Hospital. Also impressive is the amount of paperwork I found on my account, which documents all the tests and the extensive reporting by doctors on X-rays, CT scans, ECGs, and the opinions of specialists in emergency medicine, internal medicine, and infectious diseases. And don’t forget, I’m still down seven pounds!

My Journey Through Various Cars: A Personal Reflection

June 21, 2025

A blogger’s description of his experiences with cars over the years sparked memories of myown time with the vehicles I’ve driven.

Like many others, I wanted to have a car when I was a student in Vancouver, British Columbia. With limited funds, I searched for something within my budget. I had my heart set on the curvy Mustang, which I found appealing in design. However, when I started looking, the used models began at $2,000, far beyond what I could afford.

On another used car lot, I came across a Peugeot 403 priced at $800. This was more manageable for me, and the car was in good condition with no rust. For me, the Peugeot had some interesting features, including a hand crank to assist with starting the engine in colder weather. You had to be careful with the crank; if you didn’t let go as soon as the car started, it could potentially injure you by taking your arm out of its shoulder socket.

The Peugeot 403 received excellent service from European mechanics in Vancouver, and parts were easily accessible. When properly tuned, the car purred like a sewing machine. The situation changed, though, when I drove my Peugeot to Chapel Hill, North Carolina, where I entered graduate school. My route took me south to California, where I joined Route 66 and journeyed east across the Mojave Desert to North Carolina. The car performed well in temperatures above 120 degrees.

During my stay in North Carolina, snow arrived only once, and I was able to use the crank successfully. However, problems arose when I needed repairs. The mechanics seemed puzzled when they saw my Peugeot; they had never encountered this model before. More importantly, they didn’t have any parts, and the parts that I needed were in the metric system, not the imperial system. This meant that no North American part would fit. Fortunately, the mechanics were resourceful and managed to install General Motors parts that worked in some fashion, but only for a short time. The car sputtered, but it continued to run until it eventually broke down on a rural highway. I removed the license plates, left the vehicle on the shoulder, and hitchhiked back into town.

With my first professional job and a better salary in Norfolk, Virginia, I sought a stylish car. A yellow hardtop Dodge Coronet 440 caught my eye, equipped with a powerful V8 engine that rumbled in a confident roar. The black leather hardtop contrasted sharply with the yellow body, making it look sharp!

The car performed beautifully and even had air conditioning, which was a big deal since I didn’t have AC at my graduate dorm in Chapel Hill. We also lacked air conditioning at our rental unit in Norfolk, where temperatures often soared into the 100s.

I will never forget the rental furniture in Norfolk; the bed was made of Styrofoam! It was uncomfortably hot at night without air conditioning. The only relief we had during that time was from large fans and open windows, but we could always take a drive in the car with its AC system to escape the heat.

We later moved to Washington, DC, and then to Ottawa in this car. It was a reliable vehicle that took our family, which included three children under ten at the time, and our dog on several trips to Florida. With a two-door sedan, we had to push the children and the dog into the back seat before we could get going. We enjoyed car camping and visited various sights along Highway 95 as we headed south. One of our favorite stops was the Battleship North Carolina in Wilmington, NC.

At this point, we needed a second car to transport the children to their separate sports events. I purchased a used VW Squareback, which was economical, and I found the standard gear shift to be fun to use. However, the gas heater proved to be a challenge! Imagine driving the VW in minus twenty-degree temperatures during winter. The gas heater took time to start working. While waiting for it to warm up, I had to open the windows to prevent them from fogging up with my breath in the car. To cope with the biting cold wind coming through the windows, I wore a heavy parka, a tuque, and gloves. Unfortunately, the Squareback was not built for the freezing winters of Ottawa.

The car was lightweight, and even with snow tires, I slid into an intersection where oncoming vehicles collided with me one day. That was the end of the VW. The worst part was that my neighbors witnessed the wreck with me init, and the gossip in my neighborhood was about how incompetent I was at driving on ice.

A similar situation ensued with my fancy Dodge SE, a V8 that boasted ample power and a fabulous interior. This car had been given to me by my father when he retired, and I had it transported by train from Vancouver to Ottawa. It was a gem, but in humid weather, it was challenging to start. I am not sure why. I kept a screwdriver with a long stem in the glove compartment to help me short-circuit the starter engine in humid weather. Unfortunately, sliding on ice on a curvy road led me to crash into a tree, ending the life of this remarkable car.

After joining an international telecom company in the high-tech sector and becoming an executive, I rewarded myself with a Toyota Camry, which I dubbed the “silver bullet” because of its shiny silver color. It was a trouble-free car, and I drove it for an impressive 300,000 miles.

In a memorable event, I hit black ice on a rural road one night and flipped the car, leaving me hanging upside down by the seatbelt. Once I got my brain into gear, I opened the window and shut down the engine that was still running. Then I tried to figure out how to extricate myself from being upside down without banging my head when I unhook the seatbelt. Once I turned myself right up, I climbed outside through the window and flagged down a motorist. The insurance company paid for the rehabilitation of the car.

Before our next driving vacation, I had the vehicle inspected by service professionals to ensure it was still in excellent condition. They called me back in half an hour to inform me that the engine was about to fall out of the chassis at the next pothole due to the rusty frame.

We traded our Camry, with its limited value, for a Mercury Cougar station wagon to accommodate our hockey gear. The large hockey bags require plenty of space. I was impressed by the salesman’s story that the previous owner was the football coach of the Ottawa Roughriders. Despite the incessant rattle of loose parts, the car served us well.

When the Cougar became a rattletrap, we moved on to a Chevrolet Caprice Estate, another spacious station wagon. My most vivid memories with this car were transporting the boys to soccer tournaments from Montreal to Toronto, Syracuse, and various locations in between.

One trip left a lasting impression. The boys played cards in the back, sitting in a circle, when suddenly, the card game devolved into a farting contest. I had to open all the windows to let the foul smell escape, and when the boys continued to pass gas, I stopped the car and told them to control themselves or risk missing a game. That worked!

When we became empty-nesters, we decided to upgrade to a leased Honda CR-V. Now, we are on our third CR-V. The leasing arrangement allows us to get a new model every three to four years. Our current vehicle is a hybrid, and while the fuel efficiency is excellent, I was shocked to find out that it doesn’t come with a spare tire—the battery occupies that space. Fortunately, we’ve experienced very few flat tires on the road, so the absence of a spare may not be a significant issue. Keep your fingers crossed!

Overall, the quality of cars has improved considerably over time. At the same time, the number of gadgets and the use of chips in vehicles have increased substantially. I used to enjoy working on cars in the past, tinkering with things like changing spark plugs, but that has become too complex for me now. Thankfully, the newer cars tend to be more reliable.

Exciting Update: My Second Blook Coming on Kindle!

May 4, 2025

My second “blook” will soon be on sale on Amazon Kindle. I published my first, “Blog to Blook: Where My Hobby Led, ” in 2023. Let me start by quoting a couple of paragraphs from my first blook. This will help explain what a blook is. It will also show how I became involved with it.

“You may wonder, what exactly is a blook? The term combines the words “blog” and “book.” A blook is a printed book based on or consisting of blog content. The first book of this kind was “User Interface Design for Programmers” by Joel Spolsky. It was published in 2001. The book was popularized in 2003 by journalist Jeff Jarvis from New York. Since then, several other blooks have been published. In 2006, the Blooker Prize was established. It was modeled after the Man Booker Prize. The first Blooker Prize was awarded to “Julie and Julia” by Julie Power. It was a cookbook featuring recipes inspired by Julia Child’s blog. This cookbook also inspired a film of the same name, released in 2009.”


“I was intrigued by the concept of a blook. I felt inspired to create my own, having been a blogger for years. The pandemic was the catalyst for my blogging journey. When avoiding social interactions and staying home became not only desirable but often mandatory. When my gym and community center, where I played bridge, closed, I wondered what to do at home. Retirement gave me ample free time, so I wrote about my opinions and activities to stay engaged.”

I call my blog site an “evolving journey.” Readers can find unfiltered opinions on daily life. The site covers various global and local issues, including travel, immigration, and housing. I base my views on lived experiences in North America, Europe, and beyond.

The Covid pandemic and the Ukraine war inspired many of the blogs in my first blook. These blogs were interwoven with personal experiences. Other posts focused on Canadian healthcare and immigration policies and their impact on the availability of doctors and housing. I also wrote about memorable events, like attending graduations and vacationing with family.

The Ukraine war is still ongoing, but it has become less newsworthy. I shared my thoughts and memories about the war in Ukraine involving Russia in my first blook. As for Covid, it is mostly behind us now.

This volume includes blogs about travels to Corsica in France in 2023. It also covers travels to the West Coast, to Vancouver and Portland, in 2024. I wrote about forming a book club with friends. I reviewed our chosen books on blogs.

I have gained many subscribers for my blog and discovered a community of kindred spirits by reading their blogs. Some bloggers specialize in travel writing, while others focus on cooking and recipes. Many of them have a large group of readers. This led me to consider whether I should also specialize in a single topic. Still, I prefer to write about topics I find weird or controversial. I do not want to limit myself to one area, like travel. I will continue to write on various subjects that interest me.