Sunday, February 7, 2016
Saturday, January 9, 2016
JASON"s OPEN HEART SURGERY
Recently I was shocked, shaken to the core, when I learned that my eldest son was diagnosed with major coronary heart disease.He had 3 major blockages of his arteries leading to the heart.Cardiac testing, including the gold standard, ,an angiogram,( a picture of his coronary arteries)clearly revealed he was not a candidate for angioplasty. a relativity simple procedure to unplug the artery, but instead must undergo the more invasive and life threatening open heart surgery.
How do you process an event you have always thought was targeted for you and not your child.I grew up in a family where my father had 7 heart attacks, before finally succumbing to a massive stroke at 56 years of age. I cannot remember a single historical event of the Twentieth Century when I was not visiting my father in hospital.
My father's heart disease was without doubt, the most dominating force in my life and played a large influence on my career and my personal life. In an earlier blog I have written extensively of my personal battle with heart disease , how I have dramatically modified my lifestyle, including adhering to a rigid and regimented exercise and diet routine. I am totally convinced at the ripe old age of 70, I would not be alive today if I didn't adhere to this lifestyle.
Professionally I have been involved with the Cardiac Rehabilitation Unit of the Heart Institute, University of Ottawa since it's inception.I consider one of my most important professional accomplishment's was to have successfully lobbied to have a psychologist become an active member of the Rehab. team.
Despite my efforts , genetics seemed to have played a major factor in this insidious disease attacking a member of the next generation of my family.
Fortunately, my son was scheduled to visit Ottawa, soon after his diagnoses. That visit, served to re-assure me he was not in immediate danger,as for the most part he was able to carry on with his daily activities. As a result of that visit my son left me a treasured gift, a copy of his recent angiogram.
Feeling helpless and paralyzed by the news of my son's heart disease I struggled with what I could do to help.Following a workout, where I do my best thinking, I came up with a viable plan.
I phoned my contacts at the University of Ottawa's Heart Institute and was able to speak with a very able administrator who helped me access a Dr. familiar with Jason's condition.
Upon receipt of Jason's angiogram,duly scanned and sent to him, recognizing a father's angst,he was soon in telephone contact with me.He proceeded to review Jason' situation and clearly and concisely outlined the steps necessary to rectify Jason's condition.He also provided detailed Questions for Jason to ask his cardiac surgeon that would prove invaluable.
Suddenly I had a little more control of the situation thanks to this very caring, compassionate and humanitarian physician who somehow emphasized and understood my concerns as a father. I will forever be thankful to him and that very able administrator who co-ordinated these events. We, the Ottawa community are very fortunate to have these soulful people as leaders of our health institutes.
Having provided Jason with the necessary questions to ask his cardiac surgeon, it was now painfully clear that he needed the surgery.He was immediately placed on a waiting list where he was deemed to be non-essential.A very long ,anxious time followed.
Finally, aided by Jason's persistence and charming social skills he was moved to the head of the line.His day had arrived.
Based on a previous discussion Jason did not want me to be in attendance at the time of the surgery.I found myself,alone in Ottawa, awaiting the results of his surgery in Vancouver.
4 Pm-Eastern Standard Time- 1PmPacific Standard Time
After contacting Greg, my second oldest son,who was in the waiting room of the Vancouver General Hospital, I learned that Jason was still in surgery,much longer than anticipated.Time seemed to stand still. I was alone with my own thoughts and emotions.
I thought of his birth some 45 years ago which seemed like yesterday, I thought of how I got sick,only to recover in time to be present at his birth 2 days later.This was different. I was alone with my fears and anxieties.I felt helpless to protect my son,to somehow make it right. I prayed and thanked those who had been praying for Jason.Time passed one grain at a time.I never thought I would live this long to see a child go through this.
Finally I received a call from Nicole, my daughter in law, who informed me Jason has successfully passed through the surgery-6 by passes which took 6 hours to repair. He made it!
During the next few days Jason was moved to a special intensive care cardiac surgery room where he received one to one care around the clock.Despite the intense pain and extreme fatigue Jason was mobilized and began his recovery.
The next day, at Jason's suggestion,the kids took a picture of him tethered to his IV and oxygen and E-mailed it to me. He looked just like Jason. RE-assured by the post operative picture I begin to relax a little and started to breathe normally. Latter Jason would tell me he looked a lot better than how he felt.
After a few days Jason was moved to a regular room.Soon after, upon the advice of a friend, a male nurse,he decides to leave the hospital early so as to avoid an infection.He arrives home, 5 days after his surgery, to a hero's welcome.
As previously scheduled, I arrive in Vancouver 6 days after his surgery. I immediately find my way to his home where I am reassured by his physical presence. He looks great! We go for a walk around the block,albeit at a 90 year old pace, yet he is moving.
Over the next month Jason progresses nicely, gradually extending his physical efforts despite the pain which is a constant reminder of the operation he survived.
He is well on his way to a full recover. Jason knows what a lucky man he is , and that he needs to modify his lifestyle.He is smart,he will quickly learn how to cope with his heart disease, for which he now has become the leading man in the Nozick clan.
How do you process an event you have always thought was targeted for you and not your child.I grew up in a family where my father had 7 heart attacks, before finally succumbing to a massive stroke at 56 years of age. I cannot remember a single historical event of the Twentieth Century when I was not visiting my father in hospital.
My father's heart disease was without doubt, the most dominating force in my life and played a large influence on my career and my personal life. In an earlier blog I have written extensively of my personal battle with heart disease , how I have dramatically modified my lifestyle, including adhering to a rigid and regimented exercise and diet routine. I am totally convinced at the ripe old age of 70, I would not be alive today if I didn't adhere to this lifestyle.
Professionally I have been involved with the Cardiac Rehabilitation Unit of the Heart Institute, University of Ottawa since it's inception.I consider one of my most important professional accomplishment's was to have successfully lobbied to have a psychologist become an active member of the Rehab. team.
Despite my efforts , genetics seemed to have played a major factor in this insidious disease attacking a member of the next generation of my family.
Fortunately, my son was scheduled to visit Ottawa, soon after his diagnoses. That visit, served to re-assure me he was not in immediate danger,as for the most part he was able to carry on with his daily activities. As a result of that visit my son left me a treasured gift, a copy of his recent angiogram.
Feeling helpless and paralyzed by the news of my son's heart disease I struggled with what I could do to help.Following a workout, where I do my best thinking, I came up with a viable plan.
I phoned my contacts at the University of Ottawa's Heart Institute and was able to speak with a very able administrator who helped me access a Dr. familiar with Jason's condition.
Upon receipt of Jason's angiogram,duly scanned and sent to him, recognizing a father's angst,he was soon in telephone contact with me.He proceeded to review Jason' situation and clearly and concisely outlined the steps necessary to rectify Jason's condition.He also provided detailed Questions for Jason to ask his cardiac surgeon that would prove invaluable.
Suddenly I had a little more control of the situation thanks to this very caring, compassionate and humanitarian physician who somehow emphasized and understood my concerns as a father. I will forever be thankful to him and that very able administrator who co-ordinated these events. We, the Ottawa community are very fortunate to have these soulful people as leaders of our health institutes.
Having provided Jason with the necessary questions to ask his cardiac surgeon, it was now painfully clear that he needed the surgery.He was immediately placed on a waiting list where he was deemed to be non-essential.A very long ,anxious time followed.
Finally, aided by Jason's persistence and charming social skills he was moved to the head of the line.His day had arrived.
Based on a previous discussion Jason did not want me to be in attendance at the time of the surgery.I found myself,alone in Ottawa, awaiting the results of his surgery in Vancouver.
4 Pm-Eastern Standard Time- 1PmPacific Standard Time
After contacting Greg, my second oldest son,who was in the waiting room of the Vancouver General Hospital, I learned that Jason was still in surgery,much longer than anticipated.Time seemed to stand still. I was alone with my own thoughts and emotions.
I thought of his birth some 45 years ago which seemed like yesterday, I thought of how I got sick,only to recover in time to be present at his birth 2 days later.This was different. I was alone with my fears and anxieties.I felt helpless to protect my son,to somehow make it right. I prayed and thanked those who had been praying for Jason.Time passed one grain at a time.I never thought I would live this long to see a child go through this.
Finally I received a call from Nicole, my daughter in law, who informed me Jason has successfully passed through the surgery-6 by passes which took 6 hours to repair. He made it!
During the next few days Jason was moved to a special intensive care cardiac surgery room where he received one to one care around the clock.Despite the intense pain and extreme fatigue Jason was mobilized and began his recovery.
The next day, at Jason's suggestion,the kids took a picture of him tethered to his IV and oxygen and E-mailed it to me. He looked just like Jason. RE-assured by the post operative picture I begin to relax a little and started to breathe normally. Latter Jason would tell me he looked a lot better than how he felt.
After a few days Jason was moved to a regular room.Soon after, upon the advice of a friend, a male nurse,he decides to leave the hospital early so as to avoid an infection.He arrives home, 5 days after his surgery, to a hero's welcome.
As previously scheduled, I arrive in Vancouver 6 days after his surgery. I immediately find my way to his home where I am reassured by his physical presence. He looks great! We go for a walk around the block,albeit at a 90 year old pace, yet he is moving.
Over the next month Jason progresses nicely, gradually extending his physical efforts despite the pain which is a constant reminder of the operation he survived.
He is well on his way to a full recover. Jason knows what a lucky man he is , and that he needs to modify his lifestyle.He is smart,he will quickly learn how to cope with his heart disease, for which he now has become the leading man in the Nozick clan.
Monday, September 28, 2015
My Friend Hy
Last year I received an unexpected phone call that would change my life.It was a social agency, with whom I had done some volunteer work in the past.Was I available to visit weekly an elderly Jewish man.His only request that the volunteer speak Yiddish,the language of my ancestors in Eastern Europe and a language he had learned as a boy attending folk school in Ottawa.I had gleaned a rudimentary understanding of the language, listening to my mother talk to Peggy, the German live-in nanny, who soon became part of our family.
After a cursory police check to see if I was breathing,I was given his address and told to go see him.No instructions given and no instruction taken. I was on my own!
After,relieving on my trusted sense of directions, and not my GPS, I arrived at his modest well kept home. I knocked at the door."Come in he yelled". Soon I was seated across the kitchen table from this rather petite man who was exceedingly well dressed.We talked and talked and talked some more, immediately connecting at a very familiar and comfortable level. In many respects I was looking at a older version of myself. Here was a mensch(honourable man), a doer, a rebel and a brilliant mind who had lived his life in the service of others.
After our initial meeting we agreed to met weekly. On the appointed day, I phoned Hy at precisely 11am and confirmed I would be coming shortly to visit. On most occasions we engaged in long conversations in which I learned about Hy's remarkable life.Each story was always followed by a life lesson.Occasionally we would venture further afield by car, always visiting notable venues that had influenced Hy. .My favourite Hyism is how he differentiates between the good and the bad. According to Hy he learned from his black neighbours in the Barbados" There are people with soul and others who are simply a--holes".
Hy was born,July15/1921 , and together with his younger brothers Barney and Henry was raised on Kent St where his father had a tailor shop adjacent to the family home. Hy, who came from a traditional kosher orthodox home, adored his mother. A warm ,gracious woman, who despite their meager surrounding, always was ready with a bowl of soup for anyone who dropped in unannounced.There is no doubt in my mind that Hy's generosity and concern for his fellow being comes from these experiences.
As a young boy, Hy was introduced to the world of sound by his father, Soon , on his own , he was exploring the various radio shops located on Bank St.He quickly learned how to build basic microphones. Hy, had found his calling. He knew then the purpose of his life was to magnify and bring sound to the people.While at Lisgar Collegiate he made ampliphiers and installed the first public address system at the school.
After completing his studies he visited cousins in New York city and was introduced to the latest technology of record studios and radio stations.He was on his way to a career in sound .
Arriving back in Ottawa in the 1930's, he initially worked for Orme's Music shop,but subsequently his innate talent was recognized and he joined the military section of the NRC.Initially a civilian,he was made to enlist in the Army to keep his job. This did not seat well with Hy who hated the discipline and structure of the Army. After being forced by his superiors to shovel snow in a bitterly cold miserable winter day ,Hy knew he had to find a way out.
A confidential discussion with an influential Dr.who was also a member of the military,led Hy to volunteer to become a spy for the British Army.It seems Hy's gifted hands could be of use to the British during the Second World War.
After being flown to England ,unbeknownst to his family, Hy soon found himself training and learning survival skills .. Hy's gifted hands were soon trained to remove any lock in under 10 seconds.
On 3 separate occasions Hy who spoke fluent German, was parachuted into Nazi Germany,where he preformed his new trade.On a recent visit to his home he showed me the pin he was given when in Germany. The pin was given to HY as a member of the Nazi Youth Club.Clearly visible on the pin is the swastika symbol of Nazi Germany
Hy, a great story teller, tells how on one mission he was hungry, despite protests from his mate he decided to seek out a German-Chinese restaurant. Met by an elderly Chinese man who spoke to Hy in prefect German, he received a meal fit for a king. Returning to Germany some 25 years later with his girl-friend,won't you know it, he met that same man who remembered fondly that meal.
In1980 world events occurred that had a profound impact on Hy's life.Concurrently both the federal government and Mayor Marianne Dewar made a critical decision. They decided to sponsor Vietnam refugees, the so called boat people, to Ottawa.At the same time the passing of Hy's mother found him without family.
One day Hy noticed this rather shy Vietnam man, who lived above his shop with other refugees.Over a cup of coffee he learned Cheung's journey and a lifetime bond was initiated. Chueng was a married engineer from Hanoi, who was trying to make a better life for his family. Hy, the main sponsor of 3 generations of Cheung's family, helped the family re-unite and adjust to the Canadian way of life. Today they constitute Hy's closest family.
One of the many stories of how the family managed to cope with the communist censorship bares telling.. Cheung would send regular care packages to his family carefully placing the fabrics his wife used to make clothes covered by cigarettes and toothpaste which he knew would be confiscated by the censors.The real trick was to hid prescription drugs in the material. Upon receipt the family would sale the valuable drugs on the black market and live on the proceedings.
Hy has made sound the focus of his life.He has made and sold over 30,000 amplifiers,he fondly calls them his children, and recorded a multitude of politicians and celebrities in concerts and presentations .He knows the famous and the not so famous but throughout it all he has maintained his humility, compassionate and care for others. I am proud to be considered by Hy his friend. G-d Bless.
Hy was born,July15/1921 , and together with his younger brothers Barney and Henry was raised on Kent St where his father had a tailor shop adjacent to the family home. Hy, who came from a traditional kosher orthodox home, adored his mother. A warm ,gracious woman, who despite their meager surrounding, always was ready with a bowl of soup for anyone who dropped in unannounced.There is no doubt in my mind that Hy's generosity and concern for his fellow being comes from these experiences.
As a young boy, Hy was introduced to the world of sound by his father, Soon , on his own , he was exploring the various radio shops located on Bank St.He quickly learned how to build basic microphones. Hy, had found his calling. He knew then the purpose of his life was to magnify and bring sound to the people.While at Lisgar Collegiate he made ampliphiers and installed the first public address system at the school.
After completing his studies he visited cousins in New York city and was introduced to the latest technology of record studios and radio stations.He was on his way to a career in sound .
Arriving back in Ottawa in the 1930's, he initially worked for Orme's Music shop,but subsequently his innate talent was recognized and he joined the military section of the NRC.Initially a civilian,he was made to enlist in the Army to keep his job. This did not seat well with Hy who hated the discipline and structure of the Army. After being forced by his superiors to shovel snow in a bitterly cold miserable winter day ,Hy knew he had to find a way out.
A confidential discussion with an influential Dr.who was also a member of the military,led Hy to volunteer to become a spy for the British Army.It seems Hy's gifted hands could be of use to the British during the Second World War.
After being flown to England ,unbeknownst to his family, Hy soon found himself training and learning survival skills .. Hy's gifted hands were soon trained to remove any lock in under 10 seconds.
On 3 separate occasions Hy who spoke fluent German, was parachuted into Nazi Germany,where he preformed his new trade.On a recent visit to his home he showed me the pin he was given when in Germany. The pin was given to HY as a member of the Nazi Youth Club.Clearly visible on the pin is the swastika symbol of Nazi Germany
Hy, a great story teller, tells how on one mission he was hungry, despite protests from his mate he decided to seek out a German-Chinese restaurant. Met by an elderly Chinese man who spoke to Hy in prefect German, he received a meal fit for a king. Returning to Germany some 25 years later with his girl-friend,won't you know it, he met that same man who remembered fondly that meal.
In1980 world events occurred that had a profound impact on Hy's life.Concurrently both the federal government and Mayor Marianne Dewar made a critical decision. They decided to sponsor Vietnam refugees, the so called boat people, to Ottawa.At the same time the passing of Hy's mother found him without family.
One day Hy noticed this rather shy Vietnam man, who lived above his shop with other refugees.Over a cup of coffee he learned Cheung's journey and a lifetime bond was initiated. Chueng was a married engineer from Hanoi, who was trying to make a better life for his family. Hy, the main sponsor of 3 generations of Cheung's family, helped the family re-unite and adjust to the Canadian way of life. Today they constitute Hy's closest family.
One of the many stories of how the family managed to cope with the communist censorship bares telling.. Cheung would send regular care packages to his family carefully placing the fabrics his wife used to make clothes covered by cigarettes and toothpaste which he knew would be confiscated by the censors.The real trick was to hid prescription drugs in the material. Upon receipt the family would sale the valuable drugs on the black market and live on the proceedings.
Hy has made sound the focus of his life.He has made and sold over 30,000 amplifiers,he fondly calls them his children, and recorded a multitude of politicians and celebrities in concerts and presentations .He knows the famous and the not so famous but throughout it all he has maintained his humility, compassionate and care for others. I am proud to be considered by Hy his friend. G-d Bless.
Monday, January 26, 2015
Pickle-Ball Re-Visited
I am filing this report, after my recent trip to Southern, B.C. As expected I was invited to participate in a pickle ball game with my esteemed brother, a retired criminal lawyer. Notwithstanding the retired bite,my brother has failed to shed the personal traits that led him to be a successful criminal lawyer.Instead, today, he has projected those traits into the sport of pickle ball.
As I entered the arena, a beautiful modern facility in South Surrey, B.C. I was treated with the utmost respect by the staff. Soon I was changed and ready for combat. To my surprise I was taken, much like a prisoner walking to the gallows,directly to the courts where play was in progress. We quickly took our place in line and soon were on the court where I was introduced to my partner.. After a short warm-up and a brief explanation of the game my partner and I faced off against my brother and his partner. My partner, who proved to be highly patient and a wonderful teacher, took me under his wings, and in a wonderful display of how the game is to be played, almost singlehandly demolished my brother and his partner.Later, when we switched partners, I learned that the game is not that easy to master.
As soon as the other courts became available, we switched to the beginner level. I felt much more comfortable and thus was able to participate more fully and joyfully.
Pickle ball can be a highly competitive sport, where very fit seniors re-live their competitive and athletic passions. On the other hand ,for others, it can be enjoyed at a recreational level where sportsmanship, sociability rule supreme. The choice is yours.
Enthusiastic, warm, and welcoming, the members of the South Surrey Pickle Ball club I meet were active seniors from all walks of life. Many had health issues, which they refused to let limit their life. I recall one partner who had a heart condition, who told me that he may have to sit out a game if his pulse got to high. He was a real inspiration to me in how he coped with his condition yet did not let it interfere with his passion and enjoyment of the game.
Pickle ball is a wonderful way to get exercise, met interesting people and become a member of an active community. It is played at all levels both recreationally and competitively. Find a level you feel comfortable and you are on your way to many hours of pleasure, joining others in the game which has taken the senior community in North America by storm. Have Fun!
As I entered the arena, a beautiful modern facility in South Surrey, B.C. I was treated with the utmost respect by the staff. Soon I was changed and ready for combat. To my surprise I was taken, much like a prisoner walking to the gallows,directly to the courts where play was in progress. We quickly took our place in line and soon were on the court where I was introduced to my partner.. After a short warm-up and a brief explanation of the game my partner and I faced off against my brother and his partner. My partner, who proved to be highly patient and a wonderful teacher, took me under his wings, and in a wonderful display of how the game is to be played, almost singlehandly demolished my brother and his partner.Later, when we switched partners, I learned that the game is not that easy to master.
As soon as the other courts became available, we switched to the beginner level. I felt much more comfortable and thus was able to participate more fully and joyfully.
Pickle ball can be a highly competitive sport, where very fit seniors re-live their competitive and athletic passions. On the other hand ,for others, it can be enjoyed at a recreational level where sportsmanship, sociability rule supreme. The choice is yours.
Enthusiastic, warm, and welcoming, the members of the South Surrey Pickle Ball club I meet were active seniors from all walks of life. Many had health issues, which they refused to let limit their life. I recall one partner who had a heart condition, who told me that he may have to sit out a game if his pulse got to high. He was a real inspiration to me in how he coped with his condition yet did not let it interfere with his passion and enjoyment of the game.
Pickle ball is a wonderful way to get exercise, met interesting people and become a member of an active community. It is played at all levels both recreationally and competitively. Find a level you feel comfortable and you are on your way to many hours of pleasure, joining others in the game which has taken the senior community in North America by storm. Have Fun!
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