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[at-l] Trip Report



The  peak  of  the  fall  foliage  had long since passed. The orange, browns and
yellows of the salt marsh grasses still impressed. Red maples sheltered from the
winds  still  shone  brilliantly.  The  orange  and  yellow  of the Sugar Maples
displayed their glories. The birches and aspen glistened in the fall sun.

And  a  surprise.  As we reached our destination the guy in the next bunk turned
out  to  be  "Can  Do,"  a 2000 south-bounder. We spent an enjoyable hour or two
remembering the trail.

Unfortunately, this was not a walking trip. I traveled by auto and bunked at the
hospital  that  serves  our towns. "Can Do" left the next morning for a regional
medical  center.  After  four  days  I  was sent home. The diagnosis: one of the
medicines  designed  to  strengthen  my heart had severely damaged my lungs. The
prognosis?  This  is  a reversible condition, through it's kind of iffy "to what
extent."

So I sit here at the computer, tethered by a 40-foot tube carrying oxygen to my
lungs, belatedly looking up amioadarone and puzzling why a $300 per visit
cardiologist didn't know what I had found out in 20 minutes.

Weary