Wednesday, February 23, 2011

What happens if you have a heart attack when daddy's not here?

This is the question my 10 year old daughter asked tonight as I was saying goodnight to her.  It's a good question, a scary question, a question she shouldn't have to ask but does.  When Robbie is teaching at night, my kids get very concerned.  I told her I'd call 911 or she would call 911 and then we would call our neighbors to come and look after her and Max.  I told her we were fortunate to live in a neighborhood in which we are surrounded by people or care about us and love us.  I told her that the drs and medicine and I am taking care of me and that she doesn't have to worry about me having a heart attack.  But she said it was scary to think of and I had to agree.  What a crappy, depressing conversation to have to have with my little child.  She said that 4th grade is the worst year she's ever had.  I have to agree.  Boy, do I feel like taking the whole family on a Disney Cruise.

Tiny Arteries

In my life, I have often wished that some parts of my body were tiny.  My waist, for example.  Perhaps my hips.  But no, this wasn't really in the genetic cards for me.  What IS in my genetic deck of cards however are TINY ARTERIES!  yeah..  Yes, the arteries that do the very important job of carrying blood to my heart muscle are on the tiny side, so a little bit of clogging/narrowing goes a long way.  This partially explains why my grafts failed.  Not a big enough rush of blood, current not strong enough?  Something like that.  I don't have much more to say about that.

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

What does it mean to poke someone on Facebook?

I just got poked on Facebook?  Is there a support group for this?  I poked back and thought about just going on a poking rampage!  Just poking all my friends over and over.  Does it leave a bruise?  Is it like the game my daughter plays with her friends called "Touch" where she just, well, pokes them on the arm with her pointer finger?  Now THAT's a poke.  Can you tell it's a snow day and my kids are glued to the TV and I've got some time on my hands?

Robbie has made his peace with breaking the LAW!

Yes, you read correctly.  My husband just shoveled for about an hour and has an appointment this morning.  He left the house with a folding chair.  He said he's decided that he's ok being a chair guy, at least for this morning.  He's made his peace with it.  No more "should I, shouldn't I".  No more discussion about what it means to live in a civil society on one hand and the fact that we're all at our reptilian core, just animals.  Two extremes, granted.  But we won't be having these discussions on future snow days, because Robbie has made his peace with the chairs.

Sunday, February 20, 2011

Is the emergency room the first circle of hell?

I spent Thursday evening and night in the emergency room.  7 hours total.  People puking all around me.  Nurses sneaking ivs in my arm. Dr trying to push morphine on me.  Waiting, waiting, waiting.....  Thus my comparison to the first circle of hell (LIMBO).  Anyway, as you know, I had some stents put in last week.  On a related note, Robbie and I have switched to a vegan diet (this might be important info later).  So I had some pain in my back that wouldn't go away and that didn't feel muscular so I called my dr and she suggested I go to the emergency room and they'd just take some blood and do an EKG to make sure my heart was ok.  In and out.  Lickety split.  So Robbie took me.  It was 5:15 and the kids were at a playdate and I figured I'd be home before it was over, certainly before their 8pm bedtime!  But I felt I needed to go because I'd been freaking out that something wacky was going on with the stents for two days!

So we register and I get blood taken and an EKG with 20 minutes of my arrival (the potential heart attack always gets you triaged faster).  I thought, this is going to be a piece of cake!  Well, I ended up sending Robbie home to pick up the kids and told him they could pick me up when I was done (I was hoping for 9pm at that point).  After the nurse came out into the waiting room and announced how sorry they were for the long waits and how they had called in extra personnel, I decided to get the hell out of there.  I went up to the triage nurse and asked what exactly I was waiting for?  Surely someone has seen the bloodwork by now and if I was having a heart attack someone would have alerted me in the 3 hours I'd been waiting.  She said my bloodwork looked fine but given my "history" she encouraged me to stay and let the dr look at me.  She said a bed was opening up as we spoke.

I know this long story is probably making you think you also are in the first circle of hell.  But there's so much more!  I finally get a bed.  The dr. comes in and wants a chest xray, another ekg and more blood.  He also asks if I want some morphine for my pain.  REALLY?  Morphine?  I had rated my pain a 3 on the ol' pain-o-meter they have.  I hardlly think that 3 qualifies for MORPHINE!!  I said an emphatic NO I didn't want any stinkin IVs.  Got my xray.  The nurse came in to get blood and I foolishly suggested the vein in my right elbow NOT KNOWING THAT HE WAS GOING TO INSERT AN IV!  Who puts an IV in the crook of your arm?  So there I am hooked up to the EKG machine having to hold my harm stick straight for 3.5 more hours! 

Two good things came from this: 1) I got to watch The Shawshank Redemption in it's entirety complete with commercial breaks and 2) found out the pain wasn't heart related.  Did the dr. know what it actually was? NOT A CLUE.  But I had an epiphany around 11:30pm after the heart was eliminated as a culprit (Is that Virgil come to lead me to Paradise?).  It's the same mystery pain I had at Rutgers, once in PNG and once when I lived in Manteo.  Each occurred when there was a change in diet coupled with stress.  So I took a Zyrtec when I got home (which I accidentallly discovered made the pain go away when I was at Rutgers) and went to sleep.  I guess it was 7 hours well spent. 

Thursday, February 17, 2011

Got kicked out of rehab the other day

That sounds pretty bad ass doesn't it?  It's not really.  I went back to cardiac rehab because I had a couple of sessions left.  But I couldn't continue because I've had a new "heart event" which means I need to be "discharged" from this session of cardiac rehab so that I can start a new one and so that my insurance will cover it (thank God and Robbie's job they will!)  Sure wish I'd known before I got all suited up with my sticky doo dads and my heart monitor.  Oh well, I'll do what it takes because I'm not getting on any piece of exercise equipment until I have done it successfully in the comfort and safety of the cardiac fitness room which is nestled in the bosom of the hospital.  Don't feel like droppin at Lynn Bricks.

Muddy backs or Can you just stay clean til you get in the door at school?

Now that is warming up a little my kids want to go outside! Go the the pool (a little premature)! Hunt for fireflies (you got a few more months to wait son)!  Scooter in the alley after dinner (do you see that it's pitch dark outside?)  But this morning before school, they had time to play outside.  Now, I like for my kids to wear clean clothes and to brush their hair for school.  I just want them to look like someone is taking care of them.  So my son walked out the door with a freshly laundered fleece jacket with a vest over it and my daughter went out with her equally clean clothes.  Bliss! About 20 minutes later we were frantically trying to get my daughter's 8 ton backpack in the car and the rest of the school "equipment" when my son turned around to reveal his entire backside covered with mud.  Not a thick layer but noticeable.  REALLY?  Apparently he fell off the swing onto the muddy ground below.  I thought briefly about other fleece jackets or sweatshirts he has and whether they are dirty or not and whether I wanted to go back in the house and look all over creation for them and make my daughter late for school.  Finally, I just brushed him off and got him in the car.  I had to let go of my "clean child at the beginning of the day" expectations and send him forth into the world and hope the teachers know he was at least fed this morning.  My daughter was clean but she doesn't really like to brush her hair and it really needs it so I did the final brush so that she wouldn't look like a street urchin, at least for the first 20 minutes of the school day.

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

One thing not to say to a person when they've failed a stress test or had stents placed to open up super clogged arteries

"You've got to be strong"  I know it's hard to see a grown woman cry but if my kids or husband aren't in the room and I feel like crying, I do NOT have to be strong.  I can be strong all day long when I'm helping my kids with homework or getting them ready for bed or playing SkipBo for the 50th time.  I can even try to be strong when my friends and neighbors ask me how I'm doing.  But when I'm alone in the exam room or hospital room, I DO NOT have to be strong.  I will weep like a baby if I feel like it.

What the hell?

Ok, so last October (2010) I had quadruple bypass surgery.  Last week (Feb 2011) was supposed to be my last week of cardiac rehab.  However, on Monday I felt that oh so familiar back pain while on the upright bike and two days later I was back in the hospital getting 6 stents placed in my two superclogged arteries.  Which leads me to the title of this post.  If I ever decide to write a book about my experience with heart disease it will be entitled, What the Hell?!!?  Because that's pretty much how I feel when some new tidbit of information about my own arteries comes to light.  No one told me that bypass grafts could fail so soon after surgery so when they did...what the hell?  No one thought a 45 year old woman could have the amount of blockage in her arteries that I have.  EVERYONE was saying, "What the hell?"  I think this is my equivalent of Oprah's "Ah hah" moments.  Mine are "what the hell" moments.

First Blog Entry

It's funny how just a few years ago, when blogs first made their debut, I couldn't understand the point of them.  I'm still not quite sure but a few people (mostly my husband) keep telling me I should write a column or I should put whatever story I'm currently living through in a blog.  So here it is.  I think I'll write again later when I have some deeply profound or seriously funny thought.