Home at last (again)

Well, I hope this is the last part in my heart surgery saga.  After an additional 11 days in the hospital, I am home again.  It is soooo good to be here.  After this ordeal it is difficult to gather my thoughts.  I cannot describe the constant battle against despair.  I wrote about staying out of Pity City in my last post, easier said than done.  To continue with the driving metaphor, picture driving on a circuit.  You keep passing the same terrain, and there is the off ramp to Pity City over and over and over again.  Especially when it seems like you are driving in the darkest storm ever encountered, the temptation to take that off ramp is overpowering.

Without the support of so many people, I am convinced I never would have made it out of there sane (or maybe even alive).  There were the dedicated doctors, the many nurses who watched over me day and night, and all of my friends supporting me with their thoughts and prayers. But I have to say, that my wife was the most incredible of all.  She absolutely was there for me every minute of every day I was in the hospital.  She rubbed my feet when they ached, helped me in and out of bed every single time, helped me get comfortable, walked the hospital halls with me, gave me comfort and companionship, assisted all of the nurses 24/7, and brought me good coffee (decaffeinated) when I asked for it.  She was an incredibly positive and supportive presence and made the difference for me.  I cannot describe my overwhelming gratitude.

So I am back home, feeling much better, and so thankful to all my support team.  With two surgeries and a couple of "procedures" it may seem odd that my butt is causing me more pain than any of the incisions!  Almost 28 days of sitting or laying down for most of the day and night has really put the hurt on me.  I am so looking forward to morning walks in the crisp mountain air with my Kim and my two dogs.

Thanks so much everyone!!

That's All!

Deja Vu All over again

July 22nd, 2010, been back in the hospital since Friday the 16th.  Went to the Doc's office and they found too much fluid in my pleural cavity, and in the sack around my heart.  It was causing shortness of breath, and making me miserable.  Doc thought after going over several tests, that I probably had approximately 3/4 of a liter of total fluid surrounding my heart and lungs.

On Sunday, they drained the right side of my chest with a pretty simple procedure where they numbed me up and poked a drain into my back.  Sounds pretty bad, but it really didn't hurt.  They drained 1 and 1/2 liters from the right side alone.  No wonder I was having a little trouble.  It made me feel better immediately!

Then came the worst part of this whole episode.  I made a trip to "Pity City".  Thankfully I did not stay long.  Pity City is where all good victims go to whine about their lives.  Suddenly, it seemed that I had no control over my life, and that I was forced to just sit there and cry.  Poor me!!  Why were all these bad things happening to me?  What did I do to deserve all this?  Would I ever get out of the Hospital?  It was like I was in the bottom of a deep dark hole.  Every bad thing that ever happened to me came flooding to mind.  The more I thought about it, the more depressed I became.  My nurse could see I was getting a shaky lower lip.  He did his best to get me to understand that I had been through a lot, and should accept that.  What his message was that I had a right to feel victimized.

Interestingly, his words made me realize that I had pulled the car over at the Pity City Cafe.  Upon this realization, I had a short quick thought: I don't have to stay here! I chose to get the hell out of Pity City and live at choice.  Almost instantly I felt better.   Thought about the people I love, and love me, and as corny as it sounds I said to myself: I chose to live!

I have felt better every day.  Surgery to drain the fluid from my heart and left lung cavity took place Monday.  They pulled  over 2 liters out, and later another 1 and 1/2 from my right side!  That's a lot of gunk!

I have been blessed with talented nurses and doctors, and above all Kim has been here every day! Helping the nurses, feeding me, massaging my feet and legs, (not to mention my poor sore butt)! All my friends and family have been here to support me.  Wow, what a great support group!  Maybe, the lesson learned (or relearned) is that we all have our demons and our supporters.  Too often it is so much easier to listen to the siren song of the victim voices, than to reach out and embrace our supporters.

So long Pity City!  No reason for me to stick around, I'M OUTTA HERE!

Back from the Brink

Well it is July 11, and I just watched Spain defeat the Netherlands for the World Cup Championship!  Very tense and physical game, some would say boring, but I wasn't.  On July 2nd I underwent open heart surgery to make some repairs to my relatively young heart.  I was born with a defective aortic valve.  I found out about this 40 years ago, and knew that the day would come for surgery.  Good things have happened in medicine technology and technique since 1970.  In the early nineties I developed a non-lethal heart arrhythmia called atrial fibrillation.  It came and went (mostly went) over the next 20 years or so.  So now I had an irregular heartbeat, and a bum valve that would need replacing someday

Actually, the valve wasn't the problem.  In early June I found out that I had developed an aortic aneurysm, or an enlarging of the aorta as it rises from the upper heart chamber.  This "expansion" was quite significant and a real cause for concern.  At this size (diameter) the odds of survival to watch next year's world cup were better with the surgery than without it.  So I scheduled surgery.

I went "under the knife" on Friday July second.  At first things went fine, by Saturday I was off the ventilator and starting to eat solid (sort of) food.  Then my heart stopped.  My already sensitive heart "wiring" got upset with the abuse of the surgery, and just quit.  The folks at the hospital however, pulled me back from the abyss, with CPR and a defibrillator.  I was out of it for over 40 hours, and then began to steadily improve.  I spent some extra time giving my finicky heart a chance to quit pouting and come back into a steady rhythm.

Finally, after some very good investigative work by the doctors, it was determined that what I needed was a pace maker.  So, they double checked that the surgery was perfect, made sure there were no blood clots, installed a pacemaker, and shocked my heart back to work.

The pace maker is an incredible piece of technology.  Not only does it keep my heart on the job in a steady rhythm, but it has a built in defibrillator in case my heart decides to go on strike again.

I have never experienced heart symptoms that restricted my life in any way.  After this surgery, that won't change.  My biggest dissapointment is that I have to be hand searched at airport security, no wands allowed.
I can live with that!

So todays's World Cup championship took on a new sharpness and clarity.  It's great to be alive!!