Recovery begins …

I’m not sure if it was the drugs but the ICU doc sounds awfully like my GP, Todd. I hear him speaking to others in ICU and wonder if Todd has been moonlighting here. I’m trying to catch a glimpse of him but just can’t manage it.

Finally he gets to me and it’s not Todd (unsurprisingly really). His name is John Lewis and he has an Intern and Registrar with him.

He’s here to give me an update on my progress.

“You’re flying!” he says, “It’s going well.” He explains that being so young (55) has its advantages. “You may feel it more but you’ll recover quicker than if you were 75 or 85.”

It gives me some confidence and the day seems better, not just for the diagnosis, but the guy is very upbeat and positive and it rubs off.

I should be out of ICU and in a ward within 24 hours.

6 month-aversary

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.

And we’re back…

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?

July 11

At the Surgeon’s …

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!”

OK!

July 9 – The Boy’s 28th birthday! Happy birthday, son! 😐

Angie-O-Gram Day (2)

*”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.”

Nice start!

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.

Fuck!

July 4

*”I don’t want to be alone” – Billy Joel