Is Hema a No Go?

The Tour de France is on and suffered a big crash on the very first day, when a spectator stepped out in front of an onslaught of cyclists. What does the Tour de France have to do with hemophilia?

One of our favorite blog contributors and former PEN contributor is Richard Atwood of North Carolina, who is always on the watch for all things related to hemophilia. He noticed something interesting while watching the riders that first day. He writes, “Watching the Tour de France, I noticed the Jumbo Visma team kit with the words HEMA on the sides and sleeves of the jerseys. This Dutch pro cycling team is sponsored by Jumbo (a Dutch supermarket chain – not an elephant!) and Visma (a software company). I first thought HEMA might have something to do with blood, but it is a Dutch self-service store chain (not to be confused with the Chinese food chain with the same name).    

“The technology for the team kits is advancing. What used to be spandex has been developed into new materials. But this new material burns into the cyclist’s skin when they get road rash, adding to the pain and bleeding. I always think first about blood, regardless of the situation, even when I now know that HEMA refers to food in this cycling situation. Pro cycling is dependent upon sponsors, just like the bleeding disorders community.”

Why would a food company call itself HEMA? One on-line source says “According to many linguists, the Greek word aima (haema, hema, blood) is derived from the ancient Greek verb “αίθω” (aetho), which means “make red-hot, roast” “warm or heat”.

HEMA’s use of the word reminds me of Ford creating a car called Nova, which translates into “no go” in Spanish! It’s good to check globally before deciding on a name. Or maybe we can get HEMA to sponsor some hemophilia events?

Quick Update: an American named Sepp Kuss wins a stage in the Tour de France today, the first American to accomplish that feat in 10 years. And he rides for the Jumbo Visma team. With his solo breakaway in the mountains for miles before the finish line, he got lots of camera time, something that sponsors crave. So a large audience saw the HEMA logo on his jersey!

Happy Fourth!

Barbers: A Cut Above

Today I was walking about Newburyport, Massachusetts, an old seaport, now a lovely tourist town, following an exciting whale watching boat ride. As Doug and I strolled past the sidewalk shops, I noticed an old-fashioned barber pole, with the red and blue stripes.

“Ever wonder how the barber pole got its stripes?” I asked Doug. He had not.

Well, medical science was basically primitive in the Middle Ages. In fact, barbers sometimes performed surgery. After all, they had razors, right? A standard treatment for just about any ailment was “bloodletting,” where the doctors—or barbers—would drain someone’s blood. It was believed that blood sometimes contained bad “humors,” and a build-up of them needed to be released. You can see a decent portrayal of it in the wonderful 1995 Ang Lee movie “Sense and Sensibility.”

The barber pole developed as a symbol of bloodletting. During bloodletting, the patient would grasp a pole to make veins stand out. Then the barber-surgeon would cut into a vein, and blood would drip into a basin. Afterward, blood-soaked bandages would be hung outside as advertisement. Twirled by the wind, they would form a red and white spiral pattern that was later adopted for painted poles.

Eventually the bandages would be replaced by a wooden pole, with painted red and white stripes. Variations of the barber pole appeared in different countries, with some alternating a blue stripe with the red, like the one I saw today.

While the barber pole is recognized around the world, its days could be numbered. The William Marvy Company of St. Paul, Minnesota is the sole remaining manufacturer of barber poles in North America. To date, the William Marvy Company has produced over 82,000 poles, but only sells about 500 a year.

When you spy a barber’s pole, you are seeing an icon that dates to the Middle Ages, and now is quintessential Americana.

Still Advocating at 89!

Revenge is sweet at age 89, even if it is only the knowledge that you were right and the experts were wrong.

On Thursday I learned my 89-year-old mother, affectionately called “Gram” by all, was rushed to the ER by my brother when she complained of really not feeling well, during his daily visit with her.

For those of you who know my mom, she is an 89-year-old spitfire; a rebel with all kinds of causes; possessing a passionate desire to educate the entire world about everything she has ever read or learned; still raising her 18-year-old great-grandson; and… a fantastic advocate for her own medical care.

In other words, not someone to trifle with or be dismissive of.

She is generally in excellent health. Absolutely no joint problems, making me look like the infirm as I struggle through some back issues. Active, still driving and driving all the grandkids and great-grandkids around town, going to church almost every day and reading several books at once. And politics? Don’t get us started!

So for her to complain about a health problem was odd. She does have diabetes, which runs in the family on both sides. But that’s been manageable. The latest issue was a severe pain in her lower jaw, that often manifested when she climbed the cellar stairs. And she climbed the stairs slowly, too slowly for her liking, and she had to rest after climbing them. These are the same cellar stairs she has been climbing daily for 60 years.

I suggested going to a dentist to rule out an infection under the tooth. She did and there wasn’t.

She had been asking her primary health care (PCP) physician, who has been her doctor for years. The PCP didn’t think the jaw pain was a concern, or the short breath. She rather dismissed it. From time to time, my mother would ask her again about it. Once my mother said, Do you think it’s related to my heart?

The doctor winced and said, Who told you that?

Well, that was that. My mother, age 89, decided to put her formidable advocacy muscles to work. She fired her PCP and found another medical center. Got a second opinion. This new medical team went right to work with a clean slate of opinions. Two stress tests (one a nuclear one) later, and the team determined she had a blockage in her circumflex coronary artery. Friday, June 11, she had a procedure, with her awake the whole time, to place a stent, to open the artery.

All this because she trusted her instinct, knew her body (she did give birth to nine children, so there’s that), and perceived an issue of sorts with a surly doctor. After months of no answers, finding the right medical team gave her answers in two weeks. That’s advocacy in action!

During the procedure, her hand started to turn a dark blue (the catheter was inserted in her wrist area), and the team was apologetic and assured her it would clear quickly. She replied, I don’t care! You can cut my hand off! It’s worth it to know I was right!

I never once wondered where I got my advocacy muscles from!