I learned a long time ago to accept in life that nothing lasts forever. All relationships will, and must come to and end, no matter what. It’s reality. And so it is with my good friend Buddy and myself. My time, or rather, Buddy’s time with me has come to an end. It’s time for him to move on.
For those of you that don’t know, Buddy is the name I gave to my defibrillator Since January, his battery has approached the replacement threshold, and last week I had him interrogated, and now his battery is up. With a defibrillator however, it is not a simple battery change. The entire unit has to be replaced, and that means another surgery.
In a couple of weeks I go into the hospital, and they do the operation under local anesthesia. I am awake for the whole thing, which from memory of the first time, was not exactly fun. They cut where Buddy is, disconnect the wires leading to the heart and check to make sure the wires are still okay. If the wires (leads) are okay , which they should be, then they take out Buddy, put in a new defibrillator and connect the old leads. Then they put me under general anesthesia for a few minutes, deliberately make my heart go into fibrillation and see if the new defibrillator shocks the heart back into a normal rhythm. They then bring me out of anesthesia, sew me up and ship me out.
And that’s where Buddy and I part ways. Wouldn’t it be great if I could take him home with me as a memento of the past seven years he has been with me, watching over me to make sure I don’t die from sudden death? Yes, but he goes on to do good elsewhere. They clean him up and ship him over to India where people that can’t afford to have a defibrillator (in 2007, Buddy cost $34,000), get him implanted for the rest of his battery life.
It’s been a good run, and now I will have another Buddy. What can I say other than I am blessed.