This time 6 months ago I was prepping for surgery.
A full body shave (apologies for the mental image). Showering with antiseptic soap (again, apologies).
Eating hospital food (I get the apology this time)!
Six months later I’m back at work full time.
I’ve started running again.
I’m also doing so broader exercises – failing but trying (I’m looking at you skipping!)
But the realisation did hit me this morning. And it was a bit emotional.
It hit me that 6 months have passed and I’m back on deck.
Life did, indeed, go on.
I cannot be more grateful for the FBH and my family.
I am also very grateful for my employer (e.g. Flick, Kyles and Darren) who kept in touch and helped me transition back into work life.
And then there is the Dog, Django. My walking partner for the last 6 months who’s walks were quite short in the beginning but now are back to normal.
Back at the surgeon’s!
We’re a bit more organised now and the process begins.
The nurse does an ECG. Normal. How nice!
Then it’s in to see the surgeon.
It’s very matter of fact but pleasant.
He lists off a range of items:
- I’ll need 3 months to recover 😐
- Very little out of pocket expense!
- Mental health is probably the biggest issue. (Not the “cutting open” and the “fiddling around inside” part?)
And then the explanation of what needs to happen.
He’s done this so many times it’s almost boring. But it does build my confidence. Am I feeling better about this?
This is the first day of the rest of your life they say…
We take the train to the hospital because we’re not sure where to go and the last thing we need is to get lost in traffic, take a wrong turn etc.
It all turns out to be quite simple and we arrive at the Surgeon’s office quite early.
We head to the cafe.
When we return we’re told “He’s still in surgery but he’ll be here soon.”
… soon …
… soon …
And then …
“The surgery is taking longer than expected, we’ll need to reschedule!”
July 9 – The Boy’s 28th birthday! Happy birthday, son! 😐
*”And so here I am, waiting in the lobby, sweating bullets in this stupid old suit …” to have this angiogram done.
They wheel me in, slip the needle into my wrist to send the dye through to the heart. The specialist sees my tattoo and comments about running marathons.
“Quite a few ultra runners have heart disease issues.”
I’m lying on the gurney as he starts sending the dye through.
“Hmmm, we have a major, a serious and a minor blockage.” Or something to that effect.
He walks me through what he sees and, really, for the first time, I know I have some shit to deal with.
Try as I may, I can’t stop the tear running down my face.
*”I don’t want to be alone” – Billy Joel