What follows is some of the most haunting parts of my surgery. Haunting because I'm not always so sure what was and was not. I've done a bit of research and find no real good explanations.
I wish to put these things in order. This are just my recollections, with a good bit of fantasy around it. You will be able to tell, even though I shall point out which I thing is which.
There will be no discussion of pain, for I was not in pain or on pain medications. Nor will there be much....in the way of.....medical talk.
Let me start by saying my first 3 OPH surgeries, I ran extremely high temperatures because of the anesthesia. We're talking 104 range if I remember being told. My experiences were varied then.
The first I vaguely remember being there. Old fashioned ventilator, on which to this day I can still remember watching with fascination when I somehow got hiccups. Remember a older roommate named Barney, he'd had a bypass, be lieing to you if I told you I remembered how much. Cannot simply remember much more, don't think I stayed to long.
The second. This was under the auspices of my new pediatric cardiologist, whom I refer to as the butcher of my life. That is another story. He kept me in ICU for over a week. This was when hospitals didn't even have t.v. in rooms then. Best 2 memories there was that I was rarely alone. There was an amazing blue eyed baby named Tommy I think, all the nurses loved him. My surgeon, who did all 3 of my surgeries came to see me. I was chipper, a little anxious. I remember him smiling, saying we'll get you out of here, outside of the room yelling, "Get me, dumb asses name here, on the phone! There's no reason to have him in ICU over a week!" Bless that dude.
First 2 surgeries I was in the hospital minimum 4 months after surgery.
Third, I remember almost nothing. In and out of of the hospital a day to a week.
There are little memories I could recall I suppose. Friends, nurses vaguely. Myself being a wretched being I think. The excruciating boredom of a child being held in a hospital. Oh there is so much more, but I digress.
In conclusion I shall give you the best description I can of ICU as I remember it, and of course the rest of my stay. Until then.
Monday, June 11, 2012
Saturday, June 9, 2012
Day of Surgery
I was resigned to my fate. What would be would be. Nothing I could do to change the inevitable. Dr.s came and went. At one point they'd started to put me in a chair, which was fine. Sort of. Except one time.
Now mind you I was on 2 diuretics. I could now walk with help to the bathroom. In the chair my water logged body had done the memory foam and I had to go. I rang the bell. Nothing. Urgency pounded. I managed to free myself from the chair and rang again. Terror pulsed through me. Desperately I tried to find where my urinal was. Too late. Fluid poured forth, mostly into my slippers. I was slightly humiliated and waited for the nurses. They came, seemed there was an emergency situation down the hall. They apologized profusely. I asked them to just chuck out the slippers and got back into bed after the cleaning.
Not sure how many days it was until surgery. But the night before came. Signed the obligatory paper work, took inventory of my belongings and waited for the morning.
Of all 3 of my previous surgeries I remember vague things being wheeled out. The first was the tearfulness with parents. I went to the waiting area. I remember being wheeled towards the O.R. Man with black shoes reading a newspaper and I blacked out.
The second was more fun. I'd made it all the way onto the O.R. table. I began to panic and kept wanting someone to speak to me. I was terrified they were going to start. I became more and more frantic. Finally my old friend and anesthesiologist, Dr. Alvarez came over.
"John," he said in calming voice, "what's wrong?"
I was thrilled for the friendly face, I could tell his eyes and his mannerism.
"Dr. Alverez! I'm still awake they can't start the surgery!" I remember half rising.
Gently pushing my forehead down he calmed me. "John, we know when you are asleep and we know when to start the surgery."
"Oh. okay," was all I replied and I was out.
The third. New Anesthesiologist. Nice guy. I just remember him saying we are going to put you asleep now are you ready. I extended a hand to a nurse, sharp, maybe cold across my chest and I was out.
This time I don't even remember leaving the hallway.
Now mind you I was on 2 diuretics. I could now walk with help to the bathroom. In the chair my water logged body had done the memory foam and I had to go. I rang the bell. Nothing. Urgency pounded. I managed to free myself from the chair and rang again. Terror pulsed through me. Desperately I tried to find where my urinal was. Too late. Fluid poured forth, mostly into my slippers. I was slightly humiliated and waited for the nurses. They came, seemed there was an emergency situation down the hall. They apologized profusely. I asked them to just chuck out the slippers and got back into bed after the cleaning.
Not sure how many days it was until surgery. But the night before came. Signed the obligatory paper work, took inventory of my belongings and waited for the morning.
Of all 3 of my previous surgeries I remember vague things being wheeled out. The first was the tearfulness with parents. I went to the waiting area. I remember being wheeled towards the O.R. Man with black shoes reading a newspaper and I blacked out.
The second was more fun. I'd made it all the way onto the O.R. table. I began to panic and kept wanting someone to speak to me. I was terrified they were going to start. I became more and more frantic. Finally my old friend and anesthesiologist, Dr. Alvarez came over.
"John," he said in calming voice, "what's wrong?"
I was thrilled for the friendly face, I could tell his eyes and his mannerism.
"Dr. Alverez! I'm still awake they can't start the surgery!" I remember half rising.
Gently pushing my forehead down he calmed me. "John, we know when you are asleep and we know when to start the surgery."
"Oh. okay," was all I replied and I was out.
The third. New Anesthesiologist. Nice guy. I just remember him saying we are going to put you asleep now are you ready. I extended a hand to a nurse, sharp, maybe cold across my chest and I was out.
This time I don't even remember leaving the hallway.
Arrival
After the 40 minute ride we were in the parking garage. Long slow treacherous walk. On the main floor we found a wheelchair for me. I'd basically sat so long that I conformed to its shape and was in discomfort. They called me in and made the realization that I needed to be admitted. Truthfully, not sure it would have been that way if they didn't make me sit in the wheel chair for a full 30 minutes before calling me. Long story short I was not making the class. Headed for emergency and bid the brother in law good day.
Was in a corner stall in ER for maybe 4 hours then they found me a bed in a CCU step down area. Must say that was the nicest room I'd had. It seemed larger than the usual ones. This stay I never got a window view at all, so was by the door. Fellow next to me was an older gentleman. Nice guy cannot recall his name. Was a retired financial advisor.
They had alarms on his bed if he tried to leave. He was good company, except at night where he tended to have a little delirium. Nothing out of the world, I honestly felt bad for him. He would call the attendants, and try to explain that the t.v. was on the floor. It wasn't of course. He was fine during the day. Night was the trigger. I think he would have liked to stay in touch, but I was in my own Hellish nightmare now.
I checked in at 191 lbs of weight, I've never been that heavy. They increased my water pill and started and IV of diuretic as well. Sleeping was hard, urinating the worst. I did no walking whatsoever now. Not even to the bathroom.
Okay here goes. I could barely move I became so bloated, but the diuretics were working. Basically I had to call the nurse, roll on my side and hang on for dear life whilst someone else held the urinal. Not my proudest moment, but it is what it is. I believe in 2 days I lost like 20 pounds of water, but was still pretty bloated.
Even must say I regained a slight appetite. They came for me to do a catherization. I vaguely remember making it to the cath lab. Passed out. Came to when it was over and they'd taken my hospital socks. Damn. Hospitals only give you so many of those damned things.
My surgery was put off til the next week, because of an emergency, which may factor in later in the tale. I informed who I could and waited for the weekend. No visitors, no nothing. T.V.; something resembling sleep; and lots of peeing.
Was in a corner stall in ER for maybe 4 hours then they found me a bed in a CCU step down area. Must say that was the nicest room I'd had. It seemed larger than the usual ones. This stay I never got a window view at all, so was by the door. Fellow next to me was an older gentleman. Nice guy cannot recall his name. Was a retired financial advisor.
They had alarms on his bed if he tried to leave. He was good company, except at night where he tended to have a little delirium. Nothing out of the world, I honestly felt bad for him. He would call the attendants, and try to explain that the t.v. was on the floor. It wasn't of course. He was fine during the day. Night was the trigger. I think he would have liked to stay in touch, but I was in my own Hellish nightmare now.
I checked in at 191 lbs of weight, I've never been that heavy. They increased my water pill and started and IV of diuretic as well. Sleeping was hard, urinating the worst. I did no walking whatsoever now. Not even to the bathroom.
Okay here goes. I could barely move I became so bloated, but the diuretics were working. Basically I had to call the nurse, roll on my side and hang on for dear life whilst someone else held the urinal. Not my proudest moment, but it is what it is. I believe in 2 days I lost like 20 pounds of water, but was still pretty bloated.
Even must say I regained a slight appetite. They came for me to do a catherization. I vaguely remember making it to the cath lab. Passed out. Came to when it was over and they'd taken my hospital socks. Damn. Hospitals only give you so many of those damned things.
My surgery was put off til the next week, because of an emergency, which may factor in later in the tale. I informed who I could and waited for the weekend. No visitors, no nothing. T.V.; something resembling sleep; and lots of peeing.
Friday, June 8, 2012
We are getting to the post.
Coffee good, that said let us begin. I made the rounds of informing friends and rest of family. Must admit I did the later on face book. My closest friends got phone calls, the others emails, before the face book post. Not a big fan of face book myself, that however, is a different matter all together.
It was definitely May. I rarely left the house. I couldn't. I could barely sit at the kitchen table. From the water retention, I literally became a memory foam like mattress. I conformed to everything I sat in. Will be a little important later. So it made difficult for company when I'd just have to leave to lay down.
The oddest reaction came from one an old friend, I'd actually met on the Internet. An odd duck, communication was sparse, this sort of sealed it.
In response to my email letting her know of the surgery I essentially got a response something to the point of "....I need to change my email address and will be in touch when that is done." Needless to say I didn't hold my breath. I was still cooking, had to eat after all, just required some help. I honestly didn't expect or receive much by way emotional support or any thing from the housemates. Some people are just strong and some are weak.
I still drove on occasion. With great difficulty. Was so swollen, even tried to visit a shop I frequented. Had to leave almost instantaneously, was so uncomfortable. Still feeling unreasonably cold. I slept as much as I could. Sitting up in bed, usually coughing and such. Spent time wanting by kidneys to piss more, astonished how little fluid they were putting out.
I received the call from the hospital. I would need to be there Monday at 7 A.M. for some sort of orientation, it was mandatory. Then come back on Tuesday to be admitted. I was like WHAT THE HELL. The ride I had was my brother in law. I was actually quite sketchy about his ability to drive that distance 2 days in a row. And be late for work!
I arranged with my admitting cardio dude to have a ruse, which I would not actually need, but I would be admitted on Monday. And the dye was cast. No actual nerves, just resignation to what had to be done. I could no longer stand living as I was.
It was a bleak and dreary existence. One where I was in and out of consciousness. Most of my time was spent in bed. That is very difficult for me. For the spring weather was gorgeous.
There were some other issues in the house I dealt with, I was still getting paid and making sure the house bills got paid. I'd even managed to get on housemates about putting in full amount of money. They'd been putting in just a little more than half what they were supposed to since November. I could no longer ignore this.
My sister tried her best, she's good intentions, just not the where with all to carry them out. They would usually be relegated to my brother in law. So I didn't ask for help. Okay next entry will be the hospital admission and some of the nitty gritty.
It was definitely May. I rarely left the house. I couldn't. I could barely sit at the kitchen table. From the water retention, I literally became a memory foam like mattress. I conformed to everything I sat in. Will be a little important later. So it made difficult for company when I'd just have to leave to lay down.
The oddest reaction came from one an old friend, I'd actually met on the Internet. An odd duck, communication was sparse, this sort of sealed it.
In response to my email letting her know of the surgery I essentially got a response something to the point of "....I need to change my email address and will be in touch when that is done." Needless to say I didn't hold my breath. I was still cooking, had to eat after all, just required some help. I honestly didn't expect or receive much by way emotional support or any thing from the housemates. Some people are just strong and some are weak.
I still drove on occasion. With great difficulty. Was so swollen, even tried to visit a shop I frequented. Had to leave almost instantaneously, was so uncomfortable. Still feeling unreasonably cold. I slept as much as I could. Sitting up in bed, usually coughing and such. Spent time wanting by kidneys to piss more, astonished how little fluid they were putting out.
I received the call from the hospital. I would need to be there Monday at 7 A.M. for some sort of orientation, it was mandatory. Then come back on Tuesday to be admitted. I was like WHAT THE HELL. The ride I had was my brother in law. I was actually quite sketchy about his ability to drive that distance 2 days in a row. And be late for work!
I arranged with my admitting cardio dude to have a ruse, which I would not actually need, but I would be admitted on Monday. And the dye was cast. No actual nerves, just resignation to what had to be done. I could no longer stand living as I was.
It was a bleak and dreary existence. One where I was in and out of consciousness. Most of my time was spent in bed. That is very difficult for me. For the spring weather was gorgeous.
There were some other issues in the house I dealt with, I was still getting paid and making sure the house bills got paid. I'd even managed to get on housemates about putting in full amount of money. They'd been putting in just a little more than half what they were supposed to since November. I could no longer ignore this.
My sister tried her best, she's good intentions, just not the where with all to carry them out. They would usually be relegated to my brother in law. So I didn't ask for help. Okay next entry will be the hospital admission and some of the nitty gritty.
Thursday, June 7, 2012
It was May.
At some point, after I met with my cardiologist, an appointment was made for me to meet the man he'd hand chosen for my surgeon. Little details I can still remember about the trip there. Same hospital I'd had the colonoscopy and such done, so some 40-50 miles away. No exact recollection, but at this point I'm sure I was an hour early. Knowing the hospital as I did, and knowing I needed close parking; time just to get to out of the car and into the building, I made sure I had time. It was still Hell.
I did not then have a scale in my house, but can assure that I was rolling with at better than 160lbs of weight. 10 of it water. My belly was now distended because of it. I found parking and began the arduous walk towards the building. It was not fun. I had the right building. Of course he was on the second floor, of course the elevator was in the middle of the dang building. Slowly I rolled.
The office was warm, it felt comfortable. Not like the usual hurry up and wait factory feel. The secretary was a sweetheart. I had to wait for the surgeon, I assured her it was not a problem. I met the man. Unsure of his age, not tall, a little heavy set. He examined me and we spoke in his office.
Understand I've only me, so these are my recollections. No one to come with me for this appointment. 2 beings I can say I always have faith in. Myself and when I fail, and I do often, God. No I'm not going religious here.
Basically the 30 year old valve was going. He did mention that he even wondered if it had been attached completely correctly. "We need to replace your mitral and I'm going to tweak your Tricuspid." No I never did ask about that. But I still draw a smile when I consider that a heart surgeon 'tweek's' a valve.
He asked if I had questions and I told him I had only one motto right then and there.
"I either want my old life back or I want the long nap." He didn't blink. He'd chosen my life apparently. Went over the seriousness and all that had to be done. I still don't remember much. I was resigned to the surgery. Probably asked a few questions I thought pertinent and got answers. Said goodbye and went to schedule the surgery with the receptionist. It would be June...well doesn't really matter and you will see why.
I made my way back to my car. Aghast when I realized I could have parked on the closer side of the building. My only thought was making it back to my car. It took forever. Stopping, breathing, resting, coughing. Sometimes all at once.
Vaguely I recall informing my immediate family; close friends; and my manager. Then I'm sure I promptly lay down for some sleep.
I did not then have a scale in my house, but can assure that I was rolling with at better than 160lbs of weight. 10 of it water. My belly was now distended because of it. I found parking and began the arduous walk towards the building. It was not fun. I had the right building. Of course he was on the second floor, of course the elevator was in the middle of the dang building. Slowly I rolled.
The office was warm, it felt comfortable. Not like the usual hurry up and wait factory feel. The secretary was a sweetheart. I had to wait for the surgeon, I assured her it was not a problem. I met the man. Unsure of his age, not tall, a little heavy set. He examined me and we spoke in his office.
Understand I've only me, so these are my recollections. No one to come with me for this appointment. 2 beings I can say I always have faith in. Myself and when I fail, and I do often, God. No I'm not going religious here.
Basically the 30 year old valve was going. He did mention that he even wondered if it had been attached completely correctly. "We need to replace your mitral and I'm going to tweak your Tricuspid." No I never did ask about that. But I still draw a smile when I consider that a heart surgeon 'tweek's' a valve.
He asked if I had questions and I told him I had only one motto right then and there.
"I either want my old life back or I want the long nap." He didn't blink. He'd chosen my life apparently. Went over the seriousness and all that had to be done. I still don't remember much. I was resigned to the surgery. Probably asked a few questions I thought pertinent and got answers. Said goodbye and went to schedule the surgery with the receptionist. It would be June...well doesn't really matter and you will see why.
I made my way back to my car. Aghast when I realized I could have parked on the closer side of the building. My only thought was making it back to my car. It took forever. Stopping, breathing, resting, coughing. Sometimes all at once.
Vaguely I recall informing my immediate family; close friends; and my manager. Then I'm sure I promptly lay down for some sleep.
Still have some time to write this morning.
For awhile afterwards, no I cannot discern what that means exactly, but it was more than 5 days. I was doing okay. I could move slowly. Had to stop often to catch breath and relax. Oddly the water build up gave me a hernia, which would often require me to lie on my side until it went away. I had to lie down often and can be damned difficult to do.
My condition was noticeably getting worse. Had some people that I spoke to upstairs that I'd known forever, kept them informed as well. Somehow I never failed at my job. Getting to and fro my car was quite a heroic effect.
My body was swelling. I no longer could even velcro my new balance at all. Don't get me wrong, I am flat footed, 4E, but my feet were even swollen now. Clothing became a small nightmare as well. At some point I actually had to adjust the steering wheel in my car to accommodate my legs. And I was actually lifting them slightly.
I have no idea except to say that it had to be in May or early April, I simply couldn't work any longer. I was now taking 50 to do morning bathroom rituals. Lifting legs over the tub was nightmarish. I would exauhstedly phase out. Work understood. Rare to say these days.
Just trust me on this guys. They did right by me and that is all I will say.
I cooked when I could, in a house of 3 grown assed adults I'm the main cook. Do not get me started. Just say they benefited and still do by the need of me to eat well. When we get to the hospital departure after the OPH remember what I say here. It will speak volumes.
Sundays. Generally go food shopping. Plan menu's, make sure sister doesn't spend entire budget on crap food. I simply could no longer do it. No energy and was just slowing the process down by hours.
Much of my time was spent lying in bed wishing the swelling in areas would go away. Sleeping. Then, then (not a typo) I began to develop a CHF cough and could no longer sleep lying down. It was simply a miserable time to wait for the end. No I never lost hope. But I was serious in my thinking, and can't remember if I recorded it previously so here goes again. I simply told the Surgeon, "I either want my life back, or I want the long nap," Now I have to remember to see if we covered the surgeon's appointment yet, dang.
Okay need to get this day rolling, going into work late for personal reasons.
My condition was noticeably getting worse. Had some people that I spoke to upstairs that I'd known forever, kept them informed as well. Somehow I never failed at my job. Getting to and fro my car was quite a heroic effect.
My body was swelling. I no longer could even velcro my new balance at all. Don't get me wrong, I am flat footed, 4E, but my feet were even swollen now. Clothing became a small nightmare as well. At some point I actually had to adjust the steering wheel in my car to accommodate my legs. And I was actually lifting them slightly.
I have no idea except to say that it had to be in May or early April, I simply couldn't work any longer. I was now taking 50 to do morning bathroom rituals. Lifting legs over the tub was nightmarish. I would exauhstedly phase out. Work understood. Rare to say these days.
Just trust me on this guys. They did right by me and that is all I will say.
I cooked when I could, in a house of 3 grown assed adults I'm the main cook. Do not get me started. Just say they benefited and still do by the need of me to eat well. When we get to the hospital departure after the OPH remember what I say here. It will speak volumes.
Sundays. Generally go food shopping. Plan menu's, make sure sister doesn't spend entire budget on crap food. I simply could no longer do it. No energy and was just slowing the process down by hours.
Much of my time was spent lying in bed wishing the swelling in areas would go away. Sleeping. Then, then (not a typo) I began to develop a CHF cough and could no longer sleep lying down. It was simply a miserable time to wait for the end. No I never lost hope. But I was serious in my thinking, and can't remember if I recorded it previously so here goes again. I simply told the Surgeon, "I either want my life back, or I want the long nap," Now I have to remember to see if we covered the surgeon's appointment yet, dang.
Okay need to get this day rolling, going into work late for personal reasons.
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
little things I forgot in previous post.
Not all of them. Since I like the flavor of recording my history I do want to make it something I can look back in life and re-read. Since I do eventually expect to forget, and have forgotten many of the more minute details.
In the last room I had 1 more roommate, came in at night via some private ambulance company. With.......YET ANOTHER URINARY INFECTION and of course sharing my bathroom. Well I'd had enough.
Quickly I went out to speak with one of the nurses. Nice thing about them, they see alot of shit we never do and can answer questions, no matter the nature.
"Excuse me..." I asked shyly of a nurse I was familiar with.
"What's up John?"
"I don't want to seem odd. But this is my third roommate with a Urinary Infection."
She smiled warmly and I went on. "I never knew men could get them. And how catchy are these things?!"
"She laughed, "They're fairly common and no if they were contagious they'd be in a separate room." I thanked her and went on my way.
Let me now also say this. The hospital had awesome food, in the rooms. The kitchen was open from 7 A.M. until 7 P.M. And the food was really quite good. Hell if you can eat salmon twice a day it'd better be good. Favorite thing in the morning was their yogurt parfait with granola on top. I'd also learned to stop trying to order coffee, I don't do decaf. I drank tea.
At the time I adored all the items, also top of the list was their veggie burger on a whole wheat roll. And their turkey burger was quite good as well. Now how often do you ever hear someone saying hospital food is good, well this stuff was and still is. Every room came with a paper menu to order from and it was fantastic. My only issue was the day after the procedure. Had to have a nurse call to tell them I was off the, can't think of the name list, but basically that I could now eat!
In the last room I had 1 more roommate, came in at night via some private ambulance company. With.......YET ANOTHER URINARY INFECTION and of course sharing my bathroom. Well I'd had enough.
Quickly I went out to speak with one of the nurses. Nice thing about them, they see alot of shit we never do and can answer questions, no matter the nature.
"Excuse me..." I asked shyly of a nurse I was familiar with.
"What's up John?"
"I don't want to seem odd. But this is my third roommate with a Urinary Infection."
She smiled warmly and I went on. "I never knew men could get them. And how catchy are these things?!"
"She laughed, "They're fairly common and no if they were contagious they'd be in a separate room." I thanked her and went on my way.
Let me now also say this. The hospital had awesome food, in the rooms. The kitchen was open from 7 A.M. until 7 P.M. And the food was really quite good. Hell if you can eat salmon twice a day it'd better be good. Favorite thing in the morning was their yogurt parfait with granola on top. I'd also learned to stop trying to order coffee, I don't do decaf. I drank tea.
At the time I adored all the items, also top of the list was their veggie burger on a whole wheat roll. And their turkey burger was quite good as well. Now how often do you ever hear someone saying hospital food is good, well this stuff was and still is. Every room came with a paper menu to order from and it was fantastic. My only issue was the day after the procedure. Had to have a nurse call to tell them I was off the, can't think of the name list, but basically that I could now eat!
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