A brand new heart after one month - what it is like!

Exactly a month ago I underwent some bypass surgery here in beautiful Moscow - home of Stalin, Lenin, Putin and some very lovely woman everywhere in the city.

Most of them for that matter.

It is also the home of long winters, Vodka and Kartoshka's; some good ballet and caviar, Russian Mafia dudes and the Kremlin. None whom are friends or want to be with a guy called Obama anyway.

I simply love this place. One of my favorite places in this world.

So, almost a month ago after all the Congo experience and South Africa, I got the long awaited operation that was desperately needed. Most people I spoke to do not understand the conditions that goes with this at all in your body, but what the heck?

From almost passing out and feeling crap many times to really refreshed or relieved in many ways. This with a lot of stabbing from syringes and drips, heaven knows what medicines and then some brutal scars.

Yes, my head still spin now and then and my darn ribs hurts like crap more than I would like too; I have two lovely cuts down my legs where they took arteries from, enough to do a double times triple bypass (think I have now what I call a V6 bypass), but my good looks and sense of optimism for life just keeps me going strong.

In comparison I could have gotten this operation in India for all that I care, but then I was not too sure I will have many other organs left at all once they fixed the heart issues!

The question may come up "was it all worth it?" and I will without hesitation reply YES!! 

South Africa was way too expensive, very close to the costs in America almost, and although South Africa is renowned for great names in the heart surgery world like Dr. Chris Barnard, Russia also boosts some very famous surgeons at this very hospital I am at and that was one of the main reasons for coming here.

That and of course the fact they take extremely good care of their patients here in Russia, unlike some other places I have been admitted to before. The nursing staff looks better here also.

I do have my punts going on with some of the staff here. You get the "Ass Assaulter Nurses" - a group funded by the Red Cross to stab innocent patients at 10pm at night in the ass before retiring to bed.

Then you have the "Vampire Green Nurse Merchants" - their function is to stab you as many times possible with syringes that you look like a drug addict by the time she is done. I also have to mention that I suspect this class of medical personnel to be in the selling blood trade for some mysterious reasons I am trying to get to myself.

Then you get the "Nurse Ninjas". This bunch wonder in small groups like Special Forces (real Special Forces like Navy Seals, Recon Commando's and the SAS, not all these American SF dudes).

Anyway, they move around in small tactical groups and then basically "hit" a room and then torture the patients with equipment, seismographs and then some jelly stuff to scan the effects of their operation.

As I said, they are highly effective, and you never hear the "Ninja Nurses" coming your way.

As for the building on the outside one might give it a dash of little old but the inside is actually magnificently maintained. A real pleasure to be inside the building. Like many others there are some stuff that you can point out but in reality very acceptable standards.

Over all I had quite a time. Imagine, South African national, almost never in South Africa, get malaria in Congo that screw up a screwed up heart even more, evacuated to South Africa against my will, and then operated in Moscow.

I do not think there are too many people around that live this kind of life, but I am grateful for being around little longer, making few people more nervous and looking forward to exciting challenges.

That and of course the hell of a diet and 'do and do not' list I have to follow. Quite the life changer! 

A letter to my mates: 14 Sept. 2014

Hallo there, from a beautiful Moscow!

My humble apologies for being a little quite the past week. Had some tests, then more tests and on top of that as if they had something else to do, they did some more.

I had to swallow a radiator pipe from some space ship, to see what going on in the stomach! 
Not sure if it was the Colombia or Sputnik but bloody hell!! That sucked. 

First time for me. Last time for me.

That same night I made offerings of chock chip cookies and coffee powder inside my little room around a bed on fire to the gods to turn them two nurses that did this radiator pipe thing to me into something strange – lemur monkeys maybe with oranges as ears – something really weird!

The fire department stopped the proceedings so still awaiting the outcome.

The Ass Assaulter (nurse that want to inject you in the ass all day and night) wanted to strike again. I told her I in languages unknown to this planet I will release the power of some demonized underage  witch onto her and her ancestors should she mention that to me again.

I really HATE getting stabbed and especially in the ass! After the Congo, really. One need little compassion.

It must have worked because she retreated from the ass and then stabbed me in the upper leg LIKE THAT!!!

This woman draw my blood basically every freaking day. I refer to all the nurses wearing absolute green uniforms as "vampires". 
I have asked around if she maybe sell the blood also or, there is something special in my blood that they are accessing the DNA and then implanting it into some Super Russians to become like me.

No answer yet on that question as well.

Talking of some negative things; No aliens came to visit this week!

This was maybe due to the amount of tests being done they felt little ‘slapped in the face’ with their testing on the subjects. Kind of miss their funny conversations. Little more technical and in line with similar interests. 
We usually discuss their harvesting of farts from Americans (who believe their shit does not stink and that they "invaded Iraq to free an Islamic population from Islam way of rule that was going on for centuries before America was even discovered") and then their recent brush with Mexicans (it was a huge accident when they accidentally abducted 10 of them). 
It ended up that the test equipment almost took fire because of the Tequila content, and the not so recent bathing. “No more Mexicans” they said, but apparently they do enjoy the publicity in America still when abducting dogs and cats and then reciting the “Martian book of gastronomy” to middle aged men and woman in the middle of the night.

Talking of communities. Here in ward 7 where I am now, you find the isolated here and there occupied lot that range from your pensioner class to the late forties. It is a quite neighborhood. The food is quite good actually here. Same as floors 4,5 and 6 and considered quite the menu, that is if you were released from prison maybe after serving a 15 to life sentence. Otherwise it is quite crap.

Now and then the neighborhood get some wanted wanderer, dressed in a nurse uniform and looks like she escape from modelling class, otherwise there are these Nurse Ninjas. They usually gather together in open meetings at the reception desk and monitor the residents.

Most of their functions are limited to give you pills, tell you when to do what and then study the art of writing testimonials for the other floors.

Floor 6 for instance is where all the guys with screwed up hearts ends up and then they fix them. Three very well-known specialists in Russia operate that floor. Their staff are little more …. “edgy”. Almost like life and death can meet each other in the hallway at any moment.

Floor 7 would be the ideal environment if you wanted to raise a family and have a steady job, life and everything else. That is now if you wanted to live in a hospital.

Inside the walls recently some testing have been setup to develop the long sought after Electricity from the air Project. Now I am still trying to explain my Mayya what a “tester” is but I think like most of that specie if you can get past the different types of home tests available and draw pictures it would help. One day a roll of liver spread will arrive and the next a bag of oranges.

Anyway, the brains are really starting to spark again (like usual, then on for 15 seconds then off for 4 hours).

Recently they had my legs in some magnetic chamber for about 20 minutes every day. When I asked if I can rather stick my head in and see if I can reverse these bugs singing in my ears I was stared at in a very profound way, almost as if I wanted to attempt something brave.

Talking of bugs: blood pressure and bugs in the ears – they are not related!!

I have sent earlier an email to my Martian friend and asked if I could introduce a Nurse Ninja to him so still awaiting that offering. In my opinion they will accept such good trade and then the lemurs with the orange ears will come out sooner I think.

So, all my friends and not friends and have to be friendly with people, let us see where this all goes to this week. I am still celebrating spring day or Betsie day as our African bastards will call it although 14 days later but then remember, I am on retarded drugs so I am empowered to do anything I wish in the wonderful world of Henry. Well, almost.

Sunday so I am going to plug in the external drive and then watch few movies, have a snooze and that is about the future of my next 4 hours for today.

Have a lovely week, be good, or be good at it, and remember, some lovely people I know are celebrating birthdays the next 2 weeks so be happy for them, and honk when you drive past a cemetery. (there might be Americans in there and next month we play “wake the dead”)

Take care, best of luck to all of you and have a very good week ahead.

Medical emergencies in the Congo

The Congo. A cesspool of black happiness and misery. 

It is the only country that is so rich in resources and have so many poor civilians, and then of course so many rich politicians and Government Officials. It is a typical African country where the class differences are distinguish by Government employees and the population.

It is also one of many African countries where you know the outcome of the democratic election before it takes place.

Buildings on floor level is the main clinic

So, there I am. Working on a Telecoms Project which I not always like so much in Africa especially, in the Congo which is one of the least favorite countries to ever find yourself in, for a Contracting Company that have next to nothing experience in Africa to complete a job for a client that expects all to fall from the sky within 10 minutes.

A great job. I like challenges but some days just baffle the living piss out of me why I do this to myself. On the other hand, a job is a job - been also on the other end.

Being the typical Jew that I am not I set out to look into alternative streams of income while in country. This will keep the stress levels at bay and then also will help quite lot in the near future when the project done and there are some revenue still to be made. Works for me, so why the hell not?

April was quite a busy month for me. On top of the "quick project to complete" that fell upon me, I was added another 4 projects in March. Bonkers, busy, crazy - few words that comes to mind when thinking of those times.

You barely sleep, work 7 days and the income stay the same, the responsibilities increase tremendously and the stress levels, well, they off the scope most of the days. I remember also walking with papers in my back pocket, got the names of milestones in each for when you get caught up in the hallway and all of a sudden someone shit on you for something that you not even know yet happened, you at least had something to keep your bearings together.

It was a crazy period.

Typical operations theater in Congo - windows are not blackened out never mind the rest

On Monday the 19th of April, the day was "normal". Lot of shouting, meetings, pissed off client and Company on both ends - normal.
That evening I ran into some quick meetings still over a bite and a beer. Remember I refused the beer and had bottled water, already feeling little 'edgy'.

As the meeting came to an end around 19h00 and all left I all of a sudden not felt too good. I knew that feeling all too well, had 6 heart attacks before so quite trained by now.

I was rushed off immediately to the best local (remember, this is Africa, not a civilized place to have heart attacks and expect some proper treatment) clinic. Checked in, took blood tests and then on the drips and medicines immediately.

No decent equipment available like a monitor or anything - a stethoscope that was it for the ICU Emergency room.

One morning, about day 3 in the African clinic, I woke to the view of six cardiologists as they referred to themselves. Now, one I remembered and according to my recollections, she was a nurse the first night, another was the emergency doctor on duty, one smelled of dentistry chemicals and the other three I honestly was not convinced at all.
The all claimed to be cardiologist specialists and that was how it is going to be. At this point I saw how the bill for this stay was just increasing by the minute.

Another thing, they all spoke heavy local French.
Local French sounds like European French, the difference is neither actually understand another but it is referred to as French but the other similarity at least, they are equally arrogant.

So, they were trying to explain to me they determined it must be my heart, but due to a lack of machinery and equipment, the ones you will find in any other hospital off the continent of Africa, they do not posses.
Their solution, they unanimously decided upon, was to treat me for everything possible and then go back on the symptoms via the elimination process of what might be needed and what the actual diagnostic might be.
A mate of mine later on described my skin color as that of grey. I was on a "pill / tablet and drip diet" 24 hours a day for about a week and a half.
You do not go to the waterless toilet bowl regularly and they put laxative into the mixture. (I refused to drink it of course).
I have never in my life been tortured by needles and syringes as much as in that Clinic! Better more, I do not think my liver had to endure such torture ever in my life - maybe before birth but that is another story!

Between all of this, I was informed that I have contracted Malaria before the heart thing and that (malaria) was a big contributor to my already screwed up heart condition.

Being drugged and then drugged some more I really got to the point where it became seriously uncomfortable. I knew the malaria was best place to get treatment, places in the Great United States of America, Britton or South Africa even will have you dead in 5 days.
Africa is simply is and will always be the best place to have your Malaria treated, this is how common it is there. 

Anything else, well, opposite of this last statement!

Price list for Locals of course - $1=900CFR more or less

So they got me at long last "stabilized" and after the "foreigner / white man / VIP treatment / specialists fees / oxygen / medicine" bill that was priced through the silly part of the roof, I was released and then could figure out where to next.

The client of course insisted I need to go to South Africa, for just another checkup, meaning for me in my little brain I should rather go to Moscow in Russia now because there treatment will be faster, better and performed by old Communist trained specialists - real cardiologists that fix hearts by day and then sink a bottle of original Vodka at night.

Much more safer than any place in Africa for that matter - and I was willing to bet my life on that one.

So, yes. I lost the round where I could choose where to be evacuated. The Company and the client made some vigorous commitments but deep inside I knew, in this industry, it is smoke and mirrors and once the determination of the specialists will come through, I am fucked.

This was exactly what happened and no! Before all the wankers in the world start talking "law of attraction" shit - I assure you, experience could have answered that one for you even years before all of this. I have been through this one.

Our world consist of employers that, when you get a cold, no worries. When you have to go for a small neck operation and will be off work for a week or three, they can live with it. When you have heart problems, you get removed from whatever you were doing, called of course and asked to "just come to office and assist with this and that" - expected to do so on your cost, for free of course as you are not employed anymore, and yes. Guess that is life in the modern ways these days. Happened exactly like this several times with me and everytime hoped that 'this time will be differrent - these are good people'.

Yeah right!

The Democratic Republic of Congo - where this story start..

I do travel a lot and by lot I mean I fill up passports regularly and then have to find some cunning way to get a new one in the end. You might want to know why I say 'cunning' ways, but if you not regularly go back to your country of nationality, well, you have to find alternative means.
It is on of those complicated not logical situations.

Nothing seems to go normal usually.


In the continent of Africa I count 9 countries where I have not yet been over the past 25 years.

Except for not speaking or understanding any of their tribal languages, the locals see the white man, they think that they have broken the bank, won the lottery and Christmas came early.
Some come up with ingenious efforts to get your dollars from you into their possession: cops for instance will summon some fine for something ridiculous - $40 for not allowing them to look into your bags. You pull out an Interpol ID and then the next moment turn the tables, things can go either way.
In general Africa is peaceful - occasionally you find yourself in the middle of some rebel attack and then you have to bunker in for a few weeks from time to time, on other occasions you got the information before and then hear about what happening as you land in some other destination.

You will get the picture once in that position. We are not traveling to Mexico or even Colombia here for this matter, it is Africa.

This particular story start after my six months in South America and ending up in South Africa during December 2013 as part of a mistake, a stupid error of circumstance.

First time in three years in South Africa so yes, middle of summer, Christmas so no one actually does anything and everyone you know on holiday of course. So, I bunked in at a little palace outside of Pretoria (think their capital), and endured the entire festive season from the balcony. Christmas, New Years and my birthday. Was quite lucky that my friends had the place open so it kind of worked out quite well.

In South Africa, if you do not have a car, you are screwed. Bottom line.

As for myself, renting a car was out of the options due to the fact that I have South African nationality, and can not proof to the authorities where I live, how I live and except for an almost full passport, who I am exactly.
Apparently it is custom to carry the most recent electricity bill with you sent to your house to let everyone know, this is actually where you live.

 

January came and around the middle of January I received a call from an old friend. "Do you mind running a small project for us please? Going to be an easy one and only 2 months max mate so really, you are the first one on the top of the list"

Now this sounds maybe dodgy already but I know Webb for several years, he is almost family. We set a day and then met with the client, some big ass Telecoms Company.

At this point I was almost ready to throw up: number one I dislike telecoms projects and secondly the Congo. I guess in hindsight it was the 2 month maximum that pulled me in, and of course the good fees. Yes, a contracted prostitute. Going against my will but anyway, I know my stuff and the region so what the hell?

"Yeah, right".

So, the 26th of January I arrived in Kinshasa and was setup in the Company apartments. Not too shabby apartments as I remember the Congo from before, the roads were upgraded in the city by the Chinese and then yes, the apartment was not empty: I stayed with another South African and his Cuban wife and their 5 year old son. He was directly contracted to the client but some backhand arrangement that the Company and him in person share the costs of the place.

The results of such mixture is just inevitable if you been doing this long enough.

So, there you go. The foundation is set for the start of this adventure and all to follow afterwards.