I survived to climb on my soapbox again

They put the oxygen mask over my face whereupon I reeled into my Hail Marys and probably an imperfect Act of Contrition.

I went dark.

I woke up in the University of Iowa Hospital with a repaired abdominal aortic aneurysm with some stent grafts — tubes that firm up the enlarged aorta so blood may flow down to my chicken legs.

Brother John was there, along with son Kieran and his wife, Holly. Dolores had to stay home nursing a cold.

It’s no place to get a decent night’s sleep or a T-bone. The facilities are a bit worn down. The hotel bathroom was nicer.

But the care was excellent. Thanks to vascular surgeon Dr. Nanette Reed, surgical fellow Dr. Megan Parrott and the entire crew for one of the scariest rides of my life. The surgery last Wednesday evening went well. I was released Thursday afternoon (modern medical miracle) and now I pray for my constitution to work itself out of this crisis. Miralax and coffee at 4 a.m.

Thanks for all the kind words and wishes.

John knew but never told me that his St. Mary’s classmate Bill Hott died at age 74 from the widow maker that wasn’t that much bigger than mine. So this was a big deal.

The surgery was minimally invasive. They cut small holes on each side of my groin and pushed the stents where they needed to go via a catheter sliding up blood vessels. Anytime you are messing around in there something can go terribly wrong. I had a high degree of confidence in Dr. Reed, a graduate of Notre Dame and Baylor Medical School with a residency and fellowship at the Mayo Cliic. She does not do pedicures.

The aneurysm was identified during a CT scan for my prostate cancer treatment. Aortic aneurysms often go unnoticed until they burst (hence, widow makers). I was luckier than Bill Hott. Thanks to the clinical staff at the Abben Cancer Center in Spencer for identifying it, and to Dr. Sabrina Martinez of Storm Lake for pushing me to Iowa City with a sense of urgency.

The doctors told me to avoid climbing stairs but said nothing about climbing back on my soapbox until I give myself the Big One. So here goes, with a bloated gut awaiting eruption:

First, this type of endovascular surgery with short hospital stays and faster recoveries only came on the scene around 1990. Medical research matters. It saves money. Trump and Musk are setting it all back by messing with the National Institute of Health, which funds clinical research.

Second, rural health care has serious issues surrounding access and technology. I have to drive over four hours to get the standard of care required. Scans in Storm Lake and Sioux City are not good enough for certain issues, according to the doctors in Iowa City and a urology oncologist working on me at the University of California-Irvine.

I should not have to drive to Iowa City for a CT scan. Why does this technology not become affordable out in the sticks like all other technology? Because the health care financial system is rigged by providers, insurance companies and the government to keep costs down and patients buying donuts on the road at Casey’s.

Dr. Uchio out at UC-Irvine does an innovative cancer treatment called high-intensity focal therapy that can freeze out the lead-dog tumor in my prostate while not radiating the organ to death. Kill the lead dog and the attendant tumors whimper out. We can’t do that here. Mayo Clinic, yes. Either way, I take my money elsewhere.

If you are forced to seek care in the Sioux City complex, your money is going to South Dakota. Our tax dollars go out of state so the medical providers can avoid Iowa taxes. It’s wrong. I hate it, and you are not getting the services rendered in Iowa City or Omaha. I chose Iowa City because of family and friends and because We The People own the University of Iowa.

UIHC became a national leader in cardiac care thanks to some $33 million in annual funding from NIH, and plenty more from other federal sources. We deserve it. We are not second-class citizens because we are from rural Iowa.

Dr. Reed worked from early in the morning until 10 p.m. when they got done with me. Elon Musk and Donald Trump inherited fortunes and think they know what is best for her and me. I’m typing this thanks to federally funded medical research and her skills. Stick that up your backside and catheter on it for awhile, you two clowns.

Back to my prayers. St. Bonaventure is the patron of bowel movements.

Art Cullen is the editor of the Storm Lake Times Pilot in Northwest Iowa, where this column appeared. For more columns and editorials, please consider a subscription to the Times Pilot. Or, if you wish, you can make a tax-deductible gift to the Western Iowa Journalism Foundation to support independent community journalism in rural Iowa. Thanks.

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