Well that sure was fun….
Not! I repeat…Not! I would be referring to my recent open heart surgery and replacement of my extremely calcified and degenerated Aortic heart valve some short 3 weeks ago. Oh yeah, let’s throw in a newly installed pacemaker too, as surgery apparently nicked my internally built unit and was causing my upper heart chamber not to be talking correctly with my lower heart chamber, creating pretty much two separate heart beats (did you all know that could happen? I sure did not), a condition know as “ heart block”. Seems to me that a lot of the terms they use with heart issues are a bit on the negative and down side. “Heart block” would sort of infer complete breakdown of communication, no? And what about my original diagnosis, “congestive heart failure” which would lead one to believe that I was down for the count and being picked up by ambulance to be transported to the ER. I can assure you, this was not the case at all. While yes, I did have a couple of bad days (difficulty breathing, lots of coughing, overall uneasiness) that resulted in the original ER trip and consequently the “heart failure diagnosis”, the day before the actually surgery, I felt absolutely great! Lungs had cleared of fluid, lost a couple water weight pounds and if it wasn’t for the fact that I was on some slow down medication (plus the 3 months to live thing if untreated), I surely could have resumed my 90% complete brick patio leveling process. But alas, not to be and prepare the mind for surgery I did.
So you report bright and early to the hospital on surgery day. clothes off, gown on and then the steady stream of individuals doing their assigned tasks. Very much like a well oiled assembly line. Here comes the big shave (chest, stomach, groin and upper legs, sort of amazed they don’t follow with a vacuum or something, just kind of get left there with your just removed body hair). A couple tests and then the needles start going in for the soon to be anesthesia and various IV drips (wrists, neck, etc.) A little quick chat with the anesthesiologist and then off to the pre-surgery area (still in the pool of recently removed body hair). A couple more folks come in to chat and mention they are assisting and then anesthesiologist back once more…lights out!
You wake up sometime in the afternoon, surgery complete, an air tube down your throat and you are for sure in the ICU. They are kind enough to allow your significant other in to say hi and comfort you while you slowly come out of the anesthesia haze (which, in the days of Covid, visitors not typically allowed in ICU, so consider that a blessing). As your wits come back to you and you start stabilizing, the pain starts to creep in, which I assume is considered good at this point, and its time to take out the breathing tube. This is absolutely unpleasant in terms of how it feels, albeit only for a brief period of time. It’s like a snake that has crawled inside of you being pulled out from your lungs and up your throat one inch at a time. And of course there is a bunch of fluid build up at the base of the tube and in your lungs that needs to immediately be discharged in order to breathe, mostly by coughing and spitting….and then the pain of that newly split open chest sternum kicks in and you immediately long for being back under the anesthesia or at least in some sort of medicated and pain free environment. Another couple shallow breaths to gain composure (cause the deep ones hurt!) and things settle down a notch. Mental note, I’ve just added coughing and sneezing to the list of things I prefer not to do ever again, even as the nurses keep insisting coughing is good for the heeling process.
A couple more days in ICU and then they realize that need for the pacemaker. Mind you, we’ve also suffered a bit of a stroke in our left eye which has left it half vision blocked (which may or not heal itself in time) and caused the right eye to go a little blurry necessitating the need for prescription glasses (was only using readers to this point). There is also this weird numbness in the right (guitar pick holding) hand which, combined with the eye issues, has made gripping things a bit of a challenge. Top that off with this bizarre 25 pound hospital stay weight gain of what appeared to be nothing but water weight, and left the visual of some sort of mutant takeover of my own body, and that about sums it all up!
Flash forward and here we are now, three weeks removed from surgery and into the recuperation mode. Short and increasing walks a couple times a day, multiple doctor visits, able to sleep on my back again, a bunch of meds and another week to go before sit down and assessment from the heart surgeon which should give us a nice path going ahead (at least I sure do hope so). Lost all of that added water weight plus a few (thank you Lasix!) and back to at least looking a bit more normal. And there is that big new scar to talk about!
Anyway, it will be a while before we are full back to normal but going to ease into it and see where that takes me. Posted a few new pics on the New Pulp page, learning how to play guitar again with the nerve damaged right hand and I dare say, the future looks bright. A couple more months till we can really get into our Pulp Improvement projects but that time will come. Itching to get back to grilling on the BBQ so fingers crossed the doc gives me the thumbs up for that on the next visit.
Cheers for now and good to be back!
