It’s now July 17. I only remember up until 7:00am or thereabouts. That was when they collected me from the ward to be wheeled in to surgery.
The anaesthetist had a chat with me while a nurse did her thing with my arm.
It’s now 1:00am July 18.
Lost a whole day.
So, what happened:
FBH and Son were together waiting for a call from surgeon around 12:30pm.
Not being able to wait, FBH called the hospital.
“Sorry, he’s still in surgery.”
A little panic ensues. Shouldn’t he be out now?
1:00pm surgeon calls. All done. Pretty straight forward. He’ll be fine.
The stress on the FBH and Son hits and they cry in relief.
The family visits when allowed and I’m in ICU. See above picture. (FBH didn’t know Daughter was taking photo.)
I’m told when you’re in a coma you can still hear people.
I didn’t feel her hand on mine. I wish I had.
I don’t hear them come or go.
Next thing I know, it’s 1:16am and the nurse is fussing.
Something about heart rate being too high!
If heart surgery wasn’t enough, I’m booked in for a sleep study. This is to see if I have sleep apnea, which could also affect my heart so may as well get everything looked at.
(Quite) a few forms to fill in.
(Quite) a few:
are you allergic to anything? What is your name and date of birth?
Then all the wires being attached while the nurse makes small talk. Pleasant enough.
Not sure how I’m going to sleep wired up like the bionic man!
Next morning: apparently I did sleep, but not too well according to the results.
*”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
I have done so many of these.
The exercise puts stress on the heart by increasing the speed and incline every 3 minutes. They also take your blood pressure and ask if you’re feeling any discomfort. Sounds easy but the incline gets you.
Blood pressure is good.
The test continues uneventfully and I step off.
Once again I have bettered the previous test without any discomfort. Which is weird because the last few casual runs have always caused discomfort.
But the stress test doesn’t lie!
This is, surely, all a storm in a teacup!