It has been years since I last posted a Gadabout.
There are reasons for that.
My last flight was Jul 15, 2015.
I didn’t know that it was for several years though. Allow me to ramble through the story. I have been avoiding telling this story because
frankly it’s painful and I need to get this out. I’m learning I have new stories to tell post retirement, but
my inner muse won’t let me tell them ‘till I get this story out of the
way.
The Gadabout started as a small email between my wife and
kids and I as I started flying internationally in 2002. I was gone for at least a week at a time and
I had not learned of Skype yet. Soon, we
began forwarding the emails to my mother and she forwarded them to others in
the family. I found myself upping my writing
game, trying to find interesting stories to tell. I was getting good enough trips and going to
interesting enough places that I could tell new stories frequently.
Then I learned of google’s blogging website and I switched
over to using it. I thought it was a
much better writing opportunity. That
led to more readers.
Then, 2009, my Mother died.
It is said that a good writer has a target audience in mind as he
writes. (Yeah, ‘he’. Deal with it.
…and no, I’m not saying I’m good.
I’m just saying I’m trying to emulate what good writers do.) My target was my mother and I slowly learned
that my desire to write had died a little with her.
Further, along about then, the flying schedule tightened up,
layover time decreased and I found that I was going to a lot of the same
places. New things to write about were happening less
frequently.
I was also insidiously developing a heart problem which
harmed my enthusiasm for doing things.
So, the entries in this blog died off.
Which leads me to calling in sick in ’15.
After some weeks of tests and such, I was diagnosed with
Idiopathic Cardiomyopathy. Note, not Coronary Artery Disease. My arteries are
clear. I jumped straight to a weakened
heart. The magic number in this is your “Ejection Fraction”. That is the fraction of the volume of your
heart’s ventricle that you pump out with each heartbeat. A healthy adult squirts out 55% of the volume
each beat.
At the nadir of my heart problems, I was down to 17%
EF. Luckily, modern medicine has a
fairly simple drug regimen that can help you.
After about 4 months I was up to roughly 40% EF depending on how you
measure it. EF is not really an exact
measurement but sensitively depends on the eye of the tech who is looking at
the ultrasound screen.
40% is the magic number the FAA publishes to get back on
flying. So, I thought I would be golden
and so did ALPA’s Cardiologist that is kept on retainer to shepherd the
paperwork through the FAA’s grinder.
It was not to be though and after several years it became
apparent that my EF was closer to 35% and I would never be able to jump through
the FAA’s hoop. I learned this roughly 9
months before mandatory retirement age of 65.
I also had a pacemaker implanted during this process. Amazingly, a non-defibrillation device does not ground you as long as you can squirt out 40% EF.
I turned 65 last Feb and have been an official geezer since
then. Got a nice plaque from FedEx that’s
over the mantle and nice picture from ALPA that we are gonna hang when we
finally redo the house.
So, I got paid for flying a jet – if you count disability
and banked sick pay – for 40 years - which I always said was my career
goal. No, I only really flew for 38
years but, hey, let me have this one.
I didn’t really get a fini-flight which makes me whiny sad
and I hate when I’m like that. I was
really looking forward to having a small mini-party on the flight deck the last
time I heard “FedEx 1200, Shanghai Control.
Contact Fukuoka now on 123.45.” Because
that would mean I would never fly in Chinese Airspace again. Checking my logbook, that signal occasion occurred
in Apr of 2015. You may blow on your
party honker now if you wish.
Still, gentle reader, I got to fly airplanes for a living
all of my adult life. I have a comfortable
retirement and my health, while not perfect is not debilitating and I’m
active. I’m really a pretty lucky SOB.
On that happy note, I remain,
Dad/Geoff
Ps, now I can start writing some post retirement stories, I
hope.
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