Getting Off of Oxygen

I began using oxygen at night and then 24/7 for shortness of breath due to damaged heart valve. I had heart surgery Jan. 23, 2009. I was still short of breath afterwards and still had to use the O2 afterwards.

My recovery was slow but my breathing gradually improved and I was able to get down from 5 or 4 liters to 2 liters. I am still at that point. I live in the mountains at 7200 feet elevation. I drive down to 5000 feet (yes, Albuquerque is also a mile high like Denver.) My SAT (saturation of O2 will dip down into the 80 percent mark. At the lower elevation I can breathe without the O2 for short trips away from my van and portable oxygen tank like picking up the mail at the post office and going into the bank.

I guess I am just afraid to do without it for good. Although I hate having the cannula in my nostrils and dragging around the 60 plastic tube that gets tangled on things (nearly tossed me to the floor the other night. I walk with a cane now instead of a walker due to arthritis, no, it hardly hurts but one leg is shorter than the other and I walk with a serious limp.)

Anyway, does anyone have any advice as to how I can develop my breathing and get off the O2 for good? My heart is functioning well with two new bio-valves, by the way. No lasting heart disorders. I do have high blood pressure and take meds to control it. I continue to walk as often as I can but do not do exercizes per se. I lost a great deal of weight but have put some of it back on. After not being able to eat while sick for nearly a year, I am enjoying food again.

Please leave your comments. Thanks, Sandy

Irish Funeral Prayer by Henry Scott Holland, May 1910

Death is nothing at all.
It does not count.
I have only slipped away into the next room.
Everything remains as it was.
The old life that we lived so fondly together is untouched, unchanged.
Whatever we were to each other, that we are still.
Call me by the old familiar name.
Speak of me in the easy way which you always used.
Put no sorrow in your tone.
Laugh as we always laughed, at the little jokes that we enjoyed together.
Play, smile, think of me, pray for me.
Let my name be ever the household word that it always was.
Let it be spoken without effort.
Life means all that it ever meant. It is the same as it ever was.
There is unbroken continuity.
Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight?
I am but waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near just around the corner.
All is well. Nothing is hurt; nothing is lost.
One brief moment and all will be as it was before.
How we shall laugh at the trouble of parting, when we meet again.


by Henry Scott Holland, St. Paul's London, May 15, 1910.