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The politics of sudden, silent death

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Clearly, being Black means having a ton of obstacles relentlessly in one’s way forward. Some such hurdles are self-imposed (e.g., too much pork-eating, too much greasy fried food, too much self-hate, too much backward thinking when thinking at all, etc.). However, most hurdles we face are social-political realities in the U.S.A. (e.g., too frequent police perception of Blacks as criminals or troublemakers, too frequent disregard for Black folk in general, an avalanche of negative social stereotypes in medicine, education, economics, etc.). Letting ourselves go to float on these daily stormy waters is a distinct recipe for death and disaster. Some kind of way, though, most of us survive.

But, we certainly don’t need any more concrete around our ankles or strong invitations to expire by the wayside.

Yet, quietly, something else has eased into the mix to carry off many more Black folk, especially Black men. It’s called a blood clot, and generally takes us out in our most vulnerable spot, either straight to the heart, or lungs, or brain. The blockage can cause instantaneous death, with no preliminaries. We can go gently in our sleep, or merely fall out on our feet.

Although medication reactions in our bodies can cause a blood clot (sometimes called “deskjockey syndrome”), the most common way we bring one on ourselves is carelessness. On relatively long trips or prolonged periods of physical immobility, we just forget to (or just choose not to) stand up, shake our legs a little, or do a little bending up and down to rejuvenate the circulation in our legs.

For those of us who still think like we’re twenty somethings in half-century old bodies, habits of hopping into and off airplanes, taking long auto road trips, or sitting quietly for long hours waiting for that big trout to jump onto our fishing line, may be old hat. It’s just what we do. Well, what worked then has a much smaller chance of continuing to work now. We must tend to the small things like bending and stretching every two hours or so. The consequence of not paying attention to that minor, but critical step, may be the single difference between your making it back home that day or not. You won’t have to worry about the muggers behind your ear, or the intersection-crazy drivers who shouldn’t have a license. The DVT (deep vein thrombosis, another name for the blood clot problem) will get you first and with more fury.

By the time you’ve arrived where you were traveling, or you’re headed to baggage claim, or you’re trying to arrange that selfie fishing shot, it’s probably too late and you simply pass out, never to come back again. It’s that sudden and final.

The pulmonary embolism form (clot in the lungs) is what almost cost Serena Williams her tennis career and her life three years ago. Players spend enormous travel-time on planes between tournaments, and she had forgotten the golden rule for that section of a tennis player’s life—shake those legs. Only emergency surgery and anti-clot drugs saved her life. Dwight Arrington Myers, aka Heavy D, wasn’t as lucky in 2011. Neither was former Portland Trailblazer Jerome Kersey, and Windell Middlebrooks, the pudgy brother who’d played the Miller High Life salesman in a very popular TV commercial. He died in March, this year.

Current NBA star Chris Bosh owes his life to a quick stop at a doctor’s office in a foreign city for diagnosing his situation and putting him immediately into the hospital. He had to miss the last part of the recent NBA season, but he should rise up to play again next year.

Interestingly, even when diagnosed with the DVT malady, still 10-30 percent of people die, according to the CDC. The blood clot as it is, is not the killer. It is when the clot breaks off from its formation—usually deep in the leg or pelvis area-and travels to the life centers in our bodies (the heart, brain or lungs) and blocks the blood flow. It then becomes more lethal than a bullet.

No, we don’t need another way out of here. But we have it nonetheless. So, c’mon people, don’t be like me: I knew better, but didn’t do better. Experience is useless unless you apply it relevantly. As much as I travel and have traveled, it took an airport intervention to get me back home safely, as I tried to sit comfortably for 11 straight hours on a flight without shaking a leg.

We know how to shake our booties. Let’s shake some other parts too—particularly when we need to.

Professor David L. Horne is founder and executive director of PAPPEI, the Pan African Public Policy and Ethical Institute, which is a new 501(c)(3) pending community-based organization or non-governmental organization (NGO). It is the stepparent organization for the California Black Think Tank which still operates and which meets every fourth Friday.

DISCLAIMER: The beliefs and viewpoints expressed in opinion pieces, letters to the editor, by columnists and/or contributing writers are not necessarily those of OurWeekly.

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