Much more poking and prodding

Well, we're getting closer very quickly.

I spent Hallowe'en surrounded by six people in masks and costumes at the hospital. I was getting an angiogram, as requested by my surgeon.

www.heartandstroke.com defines an angiogram as  "a test that takes X-ray pictures of the coronary arteries and the vessels that supply blood to the heart. During an angiogram, a special dye is released into the coronary arteries from a catheter (special tube) inserted in a blood vessel. This dye makes the blood vessels visible when an X-ray is taken. Angiography allows doctors to clearly see how blood flows into the heart. This allows them to pinpoint problems with the coronary arteries."

What this description does not say is that the catheter (a thin wire) is inserted into an incision in your groin and is twisted, turned and otherwise manipulated until it gets to your heart. For me, it wasn't painful (and the doctor and nurses were super) but I could feel it being manipulated and pulling the wire out felt plain creepy.

But when all was said and done, there was not a speck of blockage anywhere in my arteries. I was worried there would be some partial blockage requiring stents to be inserted or further work to be done during my surgery. This was the best news I'd had in a while.

My week ended with a pre-surgery consultation at the hospital. I met with nurses, a nurse practitioner and an anaesthetist who explained to me the pre-op and post-op chain of events. For example, I didn't know that once the operation is over the surgical team will wheel me over to the ICU where I will be 'handed off,' wires, tubes and all. I will stay there for about 24 hours and by the time I leave I will be sitting up in the chair. From there I will go to the cardiac ward where the staff will watch over me for about six days, teaching me exercises, how to get out of bed properly and getting me to walk and, just as import, poop (you can't leave until you go at least once).

I was weighed (down 10 pounds - second-best news!), poked and prodded and asked the same questions by several people. I was also asked about things like fave movies, music and TV shows so that the nurse can check how lucid I am once I get into the ward.

This all means that sometime this coming week I will get the call that my surgery will be held the following week. Time to get all my ducks in a row. 

Throughout the whole thing I can't stress enough how much I've appreciated the support of Monique and the staff and all the other people signed up in the cardiac rehab program at the Reh-Fit Centre. I'm the only person there who hasn't yet had 'an event,' as they call it, but my new mates have been oh so supportive. They've willingly shared their experiences, calmed me, and given me advice on what is coming ahead.

But now there is one more big decision I have to make. More on that later...

Seven words

The seven words I heard from my doctor earlier this year hit me like a brick.

“You have a problem with your heart.”

I’ve never been the model of health. My shape is round. I’ve had arthroscopic surgery on both knees. I have COPD and limited lung capacity from a few years of smoking but mostly from growing up just down the road from a factory that spewed smoke and dust into the air non-stop. In spite of all this I never expected my heart would give out.

I was always good at lifting and carrying things, and now my cardiologist tells me not to lift anything heavy. And no shoveling snow this winter.

I was born with a heart defect 59 years ago, according to my doctor. Aortic stenosis is now detectable at birth but when I was born the technology did not exist. It’s a condition that means that one of the valves in my heart has two leaflets to regulate the blood flow instead of the usual three. As you grow older plaque builds up on the leaflets and blood flow is restricted.

There is nothing I can take for this, aside from blood thinners to marginally help the blood flow. The only fix is a replacement of the valve with a mechanical version or one taken from a pig or cow. And now I know a rough date for the procedure (which will also include a bypass to fix a troublesome aneurism) – by the end of the year.

What I can do is try and help myself make things a little easier for the surgical crew. I’ve tried to watch what I eat and I’m now signed up for the Cardiac Rehab program at the Reh-Fit Centre. In the last few weeks I’ve gone there most days to walk the track, ride the stationary bike and try out a few machines that will not adversely affect my ticker, all under the watchful eyes of the wonderful Reh-Fit staff.

It’s taught me a valuable lesson. See your doctor regularly. This whole thing started when my doctor noticed my heartbeat was ‘a bit off’ when giving me an ECG for my annual checkup. It’s meant the difference between being having heart surgery and needing emergency heart surgery.

I have been something of an emotional wreck over all this. In the past, some days I just wanted it over and what happens, happens. But now that I have a date I have decided I am not going down without a fight. There are too many things to live for: I want to see my loving wife retire and us move with the cats into a condo where we can enjoy our free time together. I want to travel some more and spend more time with my friends and family, especially those who I’ve alienated while feeling self-pity these last few months.

And most importantly, I want to grow old. It’s been a tough lesson, but now I know that I want my life back, a better life both physically and emotionally. And I’m going to do what I can to make sure that happens.