I can hear my new bionic heart. Not just with a stethoscope, but all the time.
Thump, Thump, Thump.... all day long.
Thump, Thump, Thump.... all night long.
Thump, Thump, Thump.... For The Rest of My LIFE!
The first time I returned to the hospital the cardiologist put her stethoscope in her ears and had the business end about a foot from my chest when she said "wow, that really is loud!"
I expected to hear it, I was informed of this before the surgery. A clicking sound is one of the "minor" downsides to the mechanical valve. Here is what the manufacturer says on their website:
Some patients have indicated that they hear a clicking sound during quiet or restful times. If you hear this sound, rest assured; it just means that everything is working fine. This clicking is actually the sound of the mechanical valve leaflets closing. Not all people will even hear the clicking. Your individual anatomy and physiology affects the sound. Mechanical valves also sound differently in different people. The St. Jude Medical® mechanical heart valve has been shown in studies to be one of the quietest mechanical heart valves available.
If this is one of the quietest valves available I would not want to be in the same neighborhood as someone with a loud one.
The doctors cite several factors for my unusually loud valve. Because I am so thin I have little tissue to absorb the sound. Seven centimeters of my thick aorta (5mm) have been replaced with a thin (1mm) synthetic tube (always another tube). My surgeon says this is like going from a carpet to tile. He also said my heart happens to be very close to my breastbone, so the valve is playing it like a drum.
On the bright side, loud beats dead - every day of the week. I suppose I will get use to the sound, but I'm sad that I will never experience silence again in my life, unless I lose all my hearing.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
What happened in that 24 seconds?
Of all the things about my adventure the one that I get the most questions about is the 24-seconds when my heart stopped. Let me tell you, having your heart stop on you is unsettling to say the least. Having a Cardiologist say, "if this had happened outside the hospital you'd be dead" adds a certain something to the experience. It would be easy to be overly dramatic about the whole thing.
I didn't see any bright light. I don't have any recollection of hovering over the medical team while they worked on me. I did not run into any deceased friends or family, not even Lewis Grizzard.
I was tempted to write one of those Five People You Meet in Heaven stories about how Lewis and I got drunk together and he explained the meaning of my life to me. I thought about it a lot, but just didn't think I could pull it off. First of all, Lewis would drink me right under the table. Secondly, I would not be able to resist telling him about how Florida has beaten Georgia almost every year since his death. He either wouldn't believe me or would be in too much of a huff to continue the conversation. He was a big Georgia Bulldog fan. Rumor has it that friends honored his request and spread his ashes on the field at Sanford Stadium.
What I do recall clearly is the monitor suddenly blasting an alarm, and just like on TV, the solid bright line replaced the peaks and valleys of my heart rhythm. Oddly enough, I don't recall being scared. I was very aware that people were running into my room from all directions. There was a lot of talking, but I did not understand any of it. The next thing I knew, Doctors were asking me questions, but I was having a hard time concentrating.
So I didn't come away with any insight about what happens when we cross that threshold. But I'm glad I didn't cross it just yet.
I didn't see any bright light. I don't have any recollection of hovering over the medical team while they worked on me. I did not run into any deceased friends or family, not even Lewis Grizzard.
I was tempted to write one of those Five People You Meet in Heaven stories about how Lewis and I got drunk together and he explained the meaning of my life to me. I thought about it a lot, but just didn't think I could pull it off. First of all, Lewis would drink me right under the table. Secondly, I would not be able to resist telling him about how Florida has beaten Georgia almost every year since his death. He either wouldn't believe me or would be in too much of a huff to continue the conversation. He was a big Georgia Bulldog fan. Rumor has it that friends honored his request and spread his ashes on the field at Sanford Stadium.
What I do recall clearly is the monitor suddenly blasting an alarm, and just like on TV, the solid bright line replaced the peaks and valleys of my heart rhythm. Oddly enough, I don't recall being scared. I was very aware that people were running into my room from all directions. There was a lot of talking, but I did not understand any of it. The next thing I knew, Doctors were asking me questions, but I was having a hard time concentrating.
So I didn't come away with any insight about what happens when we cross that threshold. But I'm glad I didn't cross it just yet.
Friday, March 20, 2009
I have more company
Baseball Player Aaron Boone will have his Aortic Valve replaced. He has a bicuspid valve, the same defect I had, but there is no mention that he ever has Endocarditis. He is 36 years old. I wish I had the 36 year old body of a professional athlete to make the recovery easier. I guess every guy who is 49 wishes for that, but we all have to play the hand we are dealt.
Four Week Status
I spend several hours at the hospital on Monday and Tuesday having tests done. On Wednesday afternoon I met with Dr. Landolfo, my surgeon to review progress. He said that on a scale of 1-10, my recovery is an 8. On the positive side, I've had no fluid on the lungs, my chest is healing nicely, and my activity level is good, the valve is functioning perfectly, and there are no leaks (leaks are very bad).
My restrictions were revised somewhat. I am now permitted to lift 15 pounds, up from 5. I am allowed to drive. They advised me to be very careful driving since an accident would be a disaster. A chest impact with an airbag, or steering wheel could cause some really bad things. I still cannot submerge my chest in water, so swimming is out.
They had two areas of concern, the first is my weight. I am not gaining weight even though I am eating quite well. The second area of concern was the possibility that some bacteria had managed to evade the antibiotics by laying low in some remote corner of my body. More blood was drawn - from each arm, just to be sure. At the 24 hour mark the culture was negative, but they will monitor it for 3 days just to be sure. I won't know until Monday, but it looks like the infection has not returned.
My next assessment is scheduled for April 3. If I things are progressing well, then I should be able to return home.
Warning - kind of disgusting stuff to follow.
Yesterday, was a really bad day for me. I felt terrible and all three of us were getting more and more fearful that the Endocarditis was back. By mid-afternoon, it seemed a trip to the emergency room was necessary. I dreaded this because I knew what I'd be in for. First they turn the thermostat down to 60, then they would make me change into the hospital gown, insert an IV, put an oxygen tube in my nose, and draw blood. Then they would go to work on me. I did not want to go but it looked inevitable. Dad was getting his keys and wallet, Mom was on the phone with the doctor when suddenly I started vomiting. Throwing up is never much fun, but with your chest still recovering from being sawed in half - vomiting is really unpleasant. I had no idea I could vomit this much stuff. Strangely enough, I felt better - I was weak as hell, but no longer sick. We concluded that I must have had food poisoning. I've mostly ate the same things as Mom & Dad and they were fine, but in my condition I was more susceptible. The doctor said to stay home and rest. I had a good night sleep, thanks to one of my magic pills. I woke up hungry and had bacon and eggs. I feel much better today. Unfortunately, the incident cost me 2 pounds and I'm now officially a skeleton.
My restrictions were revised somewhat. I am now permitted to lift 15 pounds, up from 5. I am allowed to drive. They advised me to be very careful driving since an accident would be a disaster. A chest impact with an airbag, or steering wheel could cause some really bad things. I still cannot submerge my chest in water, so swimming is out.
They had two areas of concern, the first is my weight. I am not gaining weight even though I am eating quite well. The second area of concern was the possibility that some bacteria had managed to evade the antibiotics by laying low in some remote corner of my body. More blood was drawn - from each arm, just to be sure. At the 24 hour mark the culture was negative, but they will monitor it for 3 days just to be sure. I won't know until Monday, but it looks like the infection has not returned.
My next assessment is scheduled for April 3. If I things are progressing well, then I should be able to return home.
Warning - kind of disgusting stuff to follow.
Yesterday, was a really bad day for me. I felt terrible and all three of us were getting more and more fearful that the Endocarditis was back. By mid-afternoon, it seemed a trip to the emergency room was necessary. I dreaded this because I knew what I'd be in for. First they turn the thermostat down to 60, then they would make me change into the hospital gown, insert an IV, put an oxygen tube in my nose, and draw blood. Then they would go to work on me. I did not want to go but it looked inevitable. Dad was getting his keys and wallet, Mom was on the phone with the doctor when suddenly I started vomiting. Throwing up is never much fun, but with your chest still recovering from being sawed in half - vomiting is really unpleasant. I had no idea I could vomit this much stuff. Strangely enough, I felt better - I was weak as hell, but no longer sick. We concluded that I must have had food poisoning. I've mostly ate the same things as Mom & Dad and they were fine, but in my condition I was more susceptible. The doctor said to stay home and rest. I had a good night sleep, thanks to one of my magic pills. I woke up hungry and had bacon and eggs. I feel much better today. Unfortunately, the incident cost me 2 pounds and I'm now officially a skeleton.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Tubes
Last week Dad took me for a ride along the beaches south of town. When I was a kid living here, those beaches were undeveloped, but in the last 30 years mansions have been built on every square inch. I wondered where all these people came from and how they made all that money. Based on my observation of the medical establishment over the last few months I'd say a lot of that money must have been made in the tube business.
Since I was first diagnosed with Endocarditis the medical establishment has used about five miles of tubes on me. They use a tube attached to the needle when drawing blood and I've given enough blood to fill a bathtub. When I had my portable infusion pump for a month, the tube was changed daily. No one would dare reuse a tube that might have any of that nasty bacteria on it, so a perfectly good six foot tube went into the landfill every day. Don't get me wrong, I loved that portable infusion pump. It had not yet been developed when Lewis Grizzard was treated for Endocarditis so he spent a month in the hospital. I'll kiss the guy that invented that pump if I ever meet him.
But it is in open heart surgery where tubes really get used. Every person in the operating room, except the patient, brings a tube with them and forces it into an orifice. If there are no orifices left, then they create a new one. So when I woke up after surgery I had a tube down my throat, one in my nose, one in each arm, one in a new hole in my neck, two in new holes in my abdomen (drainage tubes they call these), and one someplace I'd rather not mention. Total of 8. Lewis had 15 tubes. Because his surgery ran so long, it overlapped shift change and all the new arrivals brought a tube with them.
The key getting to go home after surgery is to get all the tubes out.
The tube they had in a place I don't want to mention was there all because of Lewis. When he had his surgery in 1994, they must not have used that tube yet. Right there on page 174 of his book he quotes from his (very long) medical chronology, "peed on Dr. Martin's shoes." Since the incident made it into the medical history, some of the best minds in medicine went to work on the problem. After all, we couldn't have Guccis loafers being disrespected this way, and insurance companies were not going to reimburse the doctors. So a new tube was invented. With this new tube in place I couldn't have peed on my doctor's shoes even if I had wanted to, which I didn't.
I suppose it is possible that they did have this tube in Lewis, but it had already taken it out before he peed on his doctor's loafers, but I don't think that was the case. Medical rules say that the patient should be sedated when the tube is inserted (thank God for that) but must be wide awake whenever a tube is removed. I'm sure Lewis would have mentioned that tube removal if he'd been awake. It isn't the kind of thing one does not notice or is likely to forget. In my case, when that tube came out they heard me in the adjacent rooms. Later, when the nurse removed the drainage tubes from abdomen they heard me all the way down in the hospital kitchen. Did you ever see the movie Alien, when the alien bursts out through the guy's stomach. That is what it felt like when those drainage tubes were pulled out.
Poor Lewis had to endure one last tube - that's right the big one. Although he tried to keep it quiet for several days after his surgery, eventually he had to fess-up that he was bleeding during his bowel movements. That type of bleeding is very bad and doctors went to work to find the source of the bleeding. Poor Lewis could not be sedated because of his many complications, so he had to endure the whole undignified procedure wide awake. I really owe Lewis a debt of gratitude for this one. Heart surgeons now insist that patients have that procedure done ahead of time to ensure there is no post-operative bleeding. Unpleasant as it may be, having it done ahead of surgery is preferable to having it when you still have other tubes in you and you feel like hell. So mine was done a few weeks ahead of time and I was heavily sedated, even during tube removal - I don't know how they got away with that rule violation, but I'm not complaining.
So that's what I've learned about the medical profession. Tubes are big business.
Since I was first diagnosed with Endocarditis the medical establishment has used about five miles of tubes on me. They use a tube attached to the needle when drawing blood and I've given enough blood to fill a bathtub. When I had my portable infusion pump for a month, the tube was changed daily. No one would dare reuse a tube that might have any of that nasty bacteria on it, so a perfectly good six foot tube went into the landfill every day. Don't get me wrong, I loved that portable infusion pump. It had not yet been developed when Lewis Grizzard was treated for Endocarditis so he spent a month in the hospital. I'll kiss the guy that invented that pump if I ever meet him.
But it is in open heart surgery where tubes really get used. Every person in the operating room, except the patient, brings a tube with them and forces it into an orifice. If there are no orifices left, then they create a new one. So when I woke up after surgery I had a tube down my throat, one in my nose, one in each arm, one in a new hole in my neck, two in new holes in my abdomen (drainage tubes they call these), and one someplace I'd rather not mention. Total of 8. Lewis had 15 tubes. Because his surgery ran so long, it overlapped shift change and all the new arrivals brought a tube with them.
The key getting to go home after surgery is to get all the tubes out.
The tube they had in a place I don't want to mention was there all because of Lewis. When he had his surgery in 1994, they must not have used that tube yet. Right there on page 174 of his book he quotes from his (very long) medical chronology, "peed on Dr. Martin's shoes." Since the incident made it into the medical history, some of the best minds in medicine went to work on the problem. After all, we couldn't have Guccis loafers being disrespected this way, and insurance companies were not going to reimburse the doctors. So a new tube was invented. With this new tube in place I couldn't have peed on my doctor's shoes even if I had wanted to, which I didn't.
I suppose it is possible that they did have this tube in Lewis, but it had already taken it out before he peed on his doctor's loafers, but I don't think that was the case. Medical rules say that the patient should be sedated when the tube is inserted (thank God for that) but must be wide awake whenever a tube is removed. I'm sure Lewis would have mentioned that tube removal if he'd been awake. It isn't the kind of thing one does not notice or is likely to forget. In my case, when that tube came out they heard me in the adjacent rooms. Later, when the nurse removed the drainage tubes from abdomen they heard me all the way down in the hospital kitchen. Did you ever see the movie Alien, when the alien bursts out through the guy's stomach. That is what it felt like when those drainage tubes were pulled out.
Poor Lewis had to endure one last tube - that's right the big one. Although he tried to keep it quiet for several days after his surgery, eventually he had to fess-up that he was bleeding during his bowel movements. That type of bleeding is very bad and doctors went to work to find the source of the bleeding. Poor Lewis could not be sedated because of his many complications, so he had to endure the whole undignified procedure wide awake. I really owe Lewis a debt of gratitude for this one. Heart surgeons now insist that patients have that procedure done ahead of time to ensure there is no post-operative bleeding. Unpleasant as it may be, having it done ahead of surgery is preferable to having it when you still have other tubes in you and you feel like hell. So mine was done a few weeks ahead of time and I was heavily sedated, even during tube removal - I don't know how they got away with that rule violation, but I'm not complaining.
So that's what I've learned about the medical profession. Tubes are big business.
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Joe
Heart Surgery is usually associated with being overweight. The instructions I was given when I was released from the hospital warn of the dire consequences of rapid weight gain after surgery. I wish I had that problem, I could be mistaken for a lamppost. As part of normal hospital procedure a nutritionist visited me just before I was released from the hospital to coach me on a low-fat diet. She weighed more than me. Even the hospital doesn't seem to know what to do with a skinny heart patient.
Lewis Grizzard often commented about how skinny he was. He claims to have been 160 pounds and 6' 1” tall. That's 3inches taller than me. Most of my adult life I've been just a shade under 150. I don't have data to back this up, but I suspect that Lewis and I are the two skinniest guys to ever have heart surgery. At least Lewis had a benefit to his defective valve – it kept him out of Vietnam.
One guy who has never been called skinny is my friend Joe Edenfield. Joe is on the other end of the spectrum. Two guys the size of Lewis and I could play cards behind Joe and no one would know we were there. Joe came by for a visit today. I don't think there is medicine any better than a long chat with an old friend on a warm day. I've known Joe since elementary school. In high school we were on the wrestling team together. Wrestlers compete in ascending order of weight class, I went first – Joe last. Joe said that if Endocarditis had attacked him his body would have assumed the bacteria was calories and he would have gained 40 pounds.
In 7th grade gym class the coach had us get into two lines and run the 50-yard-dash. Seeing that I was lined-up beside Joe, I figured I had an easy win. To my surprise I learned that some big guys can be quite explosive and move pretty fast over a short distance. I spent the rest of that day and most of the next being taunted by classmates. I had been beaten by the guy the gym teacher had nicknamed – Harpoon. The night before my brother David's 2005 wedding a group of old friends were drinking beer and smoking cigars. I challenged Joe to a rematch of that race 33 years ago. I'm pretty sure I could have taken him. Fortunately, Joe's too smart (and the most sober one there) so we didn't end up making fools of ourselves that night.
In school the fat kids get taunted mercilessly. I don't know how, but Joe always kept his cool. Well except for one incident when a classmate got a well deserved swirly in the boys room, Joe got the best kind of revenge, he ignored the taunters, accepted what genetics had dealt him, and went on to live an exemplary life. He's a successful IT professional with a lovely wife and family. I admire him and glad to call him a friend. Although, I was disappointed that today I was unable to accept his challenge to rerun the 50-yard-dash.
My point in all this is that a few months ago no one looking at the two of us would have believed that Joe would be visiting me after heart surgery, the other way around would have seemed more likely. I could let myself get depressed and ask, why me? But I'd rather follow Joe's example. Genetics set me up with that defective valve, the bacteria did the dirty work. It was all just a roll of the dice. I hope I handle my setback with the same attitude Joe always has.
Lewis Grizzard often commented about how skinny he was. He claims to have been 160 pounds and 6' 1” tall. That's 3inches taller than me. Most of my adult life I've been just a shade under 150. I don't have data to back this up, but I suspect that Lewis and I are the two skinniest guys to ever have heart surgery. At least Lewis had a benefit to his defective valve – it kept him out of Vietnam.
One guy who has never been called skinny is my friend Joe Edenfield. Joe is on the other end of the spectrum. Two guys the size of Lewis and I could play cards behind Joe and no one would know we were there. Joe came by for a visit today. I don't think there is medicine any better than a long chat with an old friend on a warm day. I've known Joe since elementary school. In high school we were on the wrestling team together. Wrestlers compete in ascending order of weight class, I went first – Joe last. Joe said that if Endocarditis had attacked him his body would have assumed the bacteria was calories and he would have gained 40 pounds.
In 7th grade gym class the coach had us get into two lines and run the 50-yard-dash. Seeing that I was lined-up beside Joe, I figured I had an easy win. To my surprise I learned that some big guys can be quite explosive and move pretty fast over a short distance. I spent the rest of that day and most of the next being taunted by classmates. I had been beaten by the guy the gym teacher had nicknamed – Harpoon. The night before my brother David's 2005 wedding a group of old friends were drinking beer and smoking cigars. I challenged Joe to a rematch of that race 33 years ago. I'm pretty sure I could have taken him. Fortunately, Joe's too smart (and the most sober one there) so we didn't end up making fools of ourselves that night.
In school the fat kids get taunted mercilessly. I don't know how, but Joe always kept his cool. Well except for one incident when a classmate got a well deserved swirly in the boys room, Joe got the best kind of revenge, he ignored the taunters, accepted what genetics had dealt him, and went on to live an exemplary life. He's a successful IT professional with a lovely wife and family. I admire him and glad to call him a friend. Although, I was disappointed that today I was unable to accept his challenge to rerun the 50-yard-dash.
My point in all this is that a few months ago no one looking at the two of us would have believed that Joe would be visiting me after heart surgery, the other way around would have seemed more likely. I could let myself get depressed and ask, why me? But I'd rather follow Joe's example. Genetics set me up with that defective valve, the bacteria did the dirty work. It was all just a roll of the dice. I hope I handle my setback with the same attitude Joe always has.
Space Shuttle
We watched the Space Shuttle launch in the back yard. It was a spectacular site. At this distance (about 150 miles) we can only see it under ideal conditions. This evening our skies were clear and it was just getting dark for the 7:43pm launch.
I did not know if I would ever have the chance to see a launch again. I've seen about 10. The last one I saw a launch it was the ill-fated Challenger that exploded 23 years ago. At that time I was living in Melbourne, Florida about 25 miles south of the cape. (by coincidence, I've also lived in Melbourne, Australia.) My co-workers and I left the office to watch the launch from the building parking lot. The explosion left a great cloud of smoke that remained in the sky the rest of that cold day.
Today's launch was perfect. I'm glad that I lived to see it and that I won't any longer say that the last time I saw the shuttle launch it exploded. Well done NASA!
I did not know if I would ever have the chance to see a launch again. I've seen about 10. The last one I saw a launch it was the ill-fated Challenger that exploded 23 years ago. At that time I was living in Melbourne, Florida about 25 miles south of the cape. (by coincidence, I've also lived in Melbourne, Australia.) My co-workers and I left the office to watch the launch from the building parking lot. The explosion left a great cloud of smoke that remained in the sky the rest of that cold day.
Today's launch was perfect. I'm glad that I lived to see it and that I won't any longer say that the last time I saw the shuttle launch it exploded. Well done NASA!
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Lewis's Finger
About two months after his near-fatal heart surgery, Lewis Grizzard was busy banging out a book on his ancient manual typewriter. He was on a mission to complete his book about his heart surgery as quickly as possible, hopefully before his finger fell off. You see, while Lewis was out of it, a small blood clot broke lose and lodged in his right index finger, actually his favorite finger. This finger was completely black and doctors told Lewis it should be amputated soon. If left alone, Doctors warned, the finger would become very painful, and fall off anyway. Lewis gave the Doctors a response I don't want to print in a family blog.
Knowing that without his favorite finger, completing his book would be nearly impossible, Lewis wrote furiously. In spite of his terrible condition, abandoning the book was not an option since Lewis had already spent his advance check. So he typed furiously and completed the book before losing his finger. As we know the finger proved to be a minor consideration since Lewis would be dead in less than a year. Incidentally, that typewriter is now on exhibit at the Lewis Grizzard museum in his hometown of Moreland, Georgia.
I have a sore left pinky for reasons I can't explain, but it looks normal and I'm pretty sure it won't fall off. Thankfully, no clots damaged any of my appendages. But without the deadline of a book to publish or a finger in imminent danger I'm not banging out the words at anywhere near Lewis's pace.
I have kicked the narcotic pain killers. Thank God for those little pills. Surgeons split my chest wide open, fiddled around up to their elbow for seven hours, then two days later slit my chest open again to slip in a device the size of a pocket watch. This left me sore as hell. I bet even John Wayne would have been ornery. Being hit by a train may have been less painful. But those magic little pills kept the pain at bay. They also called my name from the other room. I could hear the bottle saying “Ken – time for another dose.” My little pills kept me sleeping without too much discomfort, but my brain function was bordering on stupid. I can see how people get addicted to these things – not to mention any names, but a prominent radio talk show host comes to mind.
Lewis was proud of his crossword puzzle skills. His surgery disaster deprived his brain of oxygenated blood for an extended time. He emerged with his writing ability in tact, but he could no longer solve a crossword puzzle. I was never very good at crossword puzzles, but I can do a Sudoku pretty fast. To test my intellectual skills I've done several and I'm glad to report that at least that part of my intellectual ability still works. I also spent a few minutes on my 2008 tax return today – only to find out I am way too stupid to understand our tax forms. But I'm pretty sure that was the case before the surgery. You would think they would throw in an accountant to do your taxes for you when you have open-heart surgery. That should be part of the deal.
The incision on my chest no longer aches, but is sensitive as hell to touch. I'm able to walk and ride the stationary bike at a slow pace. The idea or running is still off in the future. While on my walks around the block I hope no one needs to be rescued from a burning house since I'm not physically up to it. I was physically up to a trip to Olive Garden today where I gorged on pasta, alas I didn't help me gain any weight. More on that later.
Knowing that without his favorite finger, completing his book would be nearly impossible, Lewis wrote furiously. In spite of his terrible condition, abandoning the book was not an option since Lewis had already spent his advance check. So he typed furiously and completed the book before losing his finger. As we know the finger proved to be a minor consideration since Lewis would be dead in less than a year. Incidentally, that typewriter is now on exhibit at the Lewis Grizzard museum in his hometown of Moreland, Georgia.
I have a sore left pinky for reasons I can't explain, but it looks normal and I'm pretty sure it won't fall off. Thankfully, no clots damaged any of my appendages. But without the deadline of a book to publish or a finger in imminent danger I'm not banging out the words at anywhere near Lewis's pace.
I have kicked the narcotic pain killers. Thank God for those little pills. Surgeons split my chest wide open, fiddled around up to their elbow for seven hours, then two days later slit my chest open again to slip in a device the size of a pocket watch. This left me sore as hell. I bet even John Wayne would have been ornery. Being hit by a train may have been less painful. But those magic little pills kept the pain at bay. They also called my name from the other room. I could hear the bottle saying “Ken – time for another dose.” My little pills kept me sleeping without too much discomfort, but my brain function was bordering on stupid. I can see how people get addicted to these things – not to mention any names, but a prominent radio talk show host comes to mind.
Lewis was proud of his crossword puzzle skills. His surgery disaster deprived his brain of oxygenated blood for an extended time. He emerged with his writing ability in tact, but he could no longer solve a crossword puzzle. I was never very good at crossword puzzles, but I can do a Sudoku pretty fast. To test my intellectual skills I've done several and I'm glad to report that at least that part of my intellectual ability still works. I also spent a few minutes on my 2008 tax return today – only to find out I am way too stupid to understand our tax forms. But I'm pretty sure that was the case before the surgery. You would think they would throw in an accountant to do your taxes for you when you have open-heart surgery. That should be part of the deal.
The incision on my chest no longer aches, but is sensitive as hell to touch. I'm able to walk and ride the stationary bike at a slow pace. The idea or running is still off in the future. While on my walks around the block I hope no one needs to be rescued from a burning house since I'm not physically up to it. I was physically up to a trip to Olive Garden today where I gorged on pasta, alas I didn't help me gain any weight. More on that later.
Sunday, March 8, 2009
A minor setback, but I'm better now
I've been told to expect ups and downs during the recovery process. Friday was one of the downs, but today (Sunday) was a very good day. So the progress is forward.
Friday evening I was not feeling well and my left arm was in a lot of pain. Left arm pain is a symptom of heart attack. My left arm had swollen during surgery and had a small blood clot in the days after surgery. But the swelling had gone away at least a week ago. As instructed I called the doctor and his advise was to get into the emergency room. Dad was dressed and had the car started in about 3 minutes. My heart was checked out, first by the emergency room doctor, then by two members of the cardiology team who were called in. Thank God, there was no heart issues. They kept me under observation for five hours just to make sure nothing was wrong. Needless to say Dad and I got almost no sleep, but we still felt that the doctor was right to tell me to go in.
So the mystery of the left arm pain remains, but when I woke up today the pain was gone. Tomorrow the doctors want to check me out again. On the positive side, the weather today was beautiful, Mom and I had a couple of pretty long walks, and I had two good sessions on the stationary bike.
Friday evening I was not feeling well and my left arm was in a lot of pain. Left arm pain is a symptom of heart attack. My left arm had swollen during surgery and had a small blood clot in the days after surgery. But the swelling had gone away at least a week ago. As instructed I called the doctor and his advise was to get into the emergency room. Dad was dressed and had the car started in about 3 minutes. My heart was checked out, first by the emergency room doctor, then by two members of the cardiology team who were called in. Thank God, there was no heart issues. They kept me under observation for five hours just to make sure nothing was wrong. Needless to say Dad and I got almost no sleep, but we still felt that the doctor was right to tell me to go in.
So the mystery of the left arm pain remains, but when I woke up today the pain was gone. Tomorrow the doctors want to check me out again. On the positive side, the weather today was beautiful, Mom and I had a couple of pretty long walks, and I had two good sessions on the stationary bike.
Friday, March 6, 2009
Lewis Grizzard and I have company
Seems like I'm always being upstaged. Or maybe I'm a trendsetter.
Robin Williams is due to have Aortic Valve Replacement Surgery. It sounds like he has the more common problem of the valve wearing down over time, as opposed to the bacterial assault that infected Lewis Grizzard and me. If a sense of humor will help get you through it then who could be expected to have a better outcome than Robin Williams. On second thought, it didn't do Lewis much good. So who knows.
Former first lady Barbara Bush also had her aortic valve replaced this week. She is 83. She has my respect if she can handle it at that age.
If more people start having heart surgery, maybe that vertical scar down the center of the chest will become fashionable. One day people may ask me if it is real of if I just had a tattoo to make it look like I had a cool surgery. Of course, I can also show off the horizontal scar where the pacemaker went in.
Robin Williams is due to have Aortic Valve Replacement Surgery. It sounds like he has the more common problem of the valve wearing down over time, as opposed to the bacterial assault that infected Lewis Grizzard and me. If a sense of humor will help get you through it then who could be expected to have a better outcome than Robin Williams. On second thought, it didn't do Lewis much good. So who knows.
Former first lady Barbara Bush also had her aortic valve replaced this week. She is 83. She has my respect if she can handle it at that age.
If more people start having heart surgery, maybe that vertical scar down the center of the chest will become fashionable. One day people may ask me if it is real of if I just had a tattoo to make it look like I had a cool surgery. Of course, I can also show off the horizontal scar where the pacemaker went in.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Food
Lewis Grizzard wrote a column once explaining the proper way to make cornbread. All too often, sugar is added into cornbread in the misguided attempt to turn it into some kind of sweet dessert. Lewis even claimed that the bible said "Thou shalt not add sugar to cornbread." However, I'm unable to find the chapter and verse.
I'm very lucky that Mom cooks it the proper southern way. In fact, her only serious rival was my late Grandmother. Mom made cornbread tonight and also sauteed some vegetables. Dad grilled Salmon outside to absolute perfection. Something about the combination was magical. It was the first time since the surgery that food tasted good. I mean really good.
Anyone who knows me knows I like to eat. I also get hunger pains earlier than anyone else. An accident of genetics gives me the ability to eat all I want and never gain any weight. It also means I burn up whatever I eat and so I can't go very long without eating. Between the surgery and the medications I'm on, I have not felt hungry or enjoyed food much at all. Mostly, I only ate because I knew it was time to. Until now, fresh fruit was the only thing that tasted really good. Tonight that changed. I really enjoyed my dinner.
The infection caused me to lose about 15 pounds off my normal weight. Normal for me being very skinny to start with. I gained about half of that back between the time the infection was treated and the surgery. Since the surgery I lost it all back. Hopefully, today signals the start of some serious eating! I really need to put on some pounds.
Hey Mom, What's for dessert?
I'm very lucky that Mom cooks it the proper southern way. In fact, her only serious rival was my late Grandmother. Mom made cornbread tonight and also sauteed some vegetables. Dad grilled Salmon outside to absolute perfection. Something about the combination was magical. It was the first time since the surgery that food tasted good. I mean really good.
Anyone who knows me knows I like to eat. I also get hunger pains earlier than anyone else. An accident of genetics gives me the ability to eat all I want and never gain any weight. It also means I burn up whatever I eat and so I can't go very long without eating. Between the surgery and the medications I'm on, I have not felt hungry or enjoyed food much at all. Mostly, I only ate because I knew it was time to. Until now, fresh fruit was the only thing that tasted really good. Tonight that changed. I really enjoyed my dinner.
The infection caused me to lose about 15 pounds off my normal weight. Normal for me being very skinny to start with. I gained about half of that back between the time the infection was treated and the surgery. Since the surgery I lost it all back. Hopefully, today signals the start of some serious eating! I really need to put on some pounds.
Hey Mom, What's for dessert?
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
The Two Week Mark
I am pleased (more than you know) to to report that there have been no further complications since my 24-second "vacation." I intended to write lots of blog entries but since coming home I have mostly been sleeping. I never slept this much in my life. Doctors tell me that is a very good sign. I've cut the use of pain medications down to about one quarter of what I was taking when I first came home. To protect my delicate sternum I am under a five pound limit for lifting anything. Driving will be out for at least 2-3 more weeks.
Dad took a photo of me with my shirt off, showing my scar. I'm not sure if I feel worse or look worse. I thought about posting it, but it is a frightening site, so I decided to wait on that. I know that a few months from now it will be a source of pride that I worked my way back from such a low point.
I've been able to walk pretty well since coming home. I usually have two walks a day around the neighborhood. Mom usually goes with me, but Dad does sometimes. On Friday Dad gave me a special treat. We drove to the beach and walked. It felt so good, but I was beat afterward. Sunday I found out just how far I have to go on my recovery. I got on the stationary bike for about 4 minutes and I was spent. The next fifteen minutes - I coughed. My lungs clearly need lots of work. Saturday also brought back an old nemesis, lower back pain. All those days of laying in bed and sitting in the chair agravated an old nerve that I have worked hard to put at bay over the years. Unfortunately, I can't do my normal yoga and swimming routines that keep my back in shape. Dad has been helping me stretch as much as possible and it is helping.
Monday was a better day. I was able to stretch out my back and reduce the pain, I also had a much better time on the bike. Today I had two good sessions on the bike. I have strict instructions not to let my heart rate exceed 130 beats per minute. I've been able to go about 20 minutes on the bike at a slow pace and keep the heart rate around 120 beats. They tell me this is good progress. Even though it is hard, I need to be on that bike at least twice a day. Maybe it will be a little easier when Florida weather returns later this week. It has been unusually cold.
I'm slowly getting used to my "bionic" heart valve. When it is quiet I hear it beating, like having a ticking clock in the room. They tell me that over time my brain will filter it out. Sometimes it gets on my nerves, but it also reminds me - "Hey Ken - you are alive!"
Dad took a photo of me with my shirt off, showing my scar. I'm not sure if I feel worse or look worse. I thought about posting it, but it is a frightening site, so I decided to wait on that. I know that a few months from now it will be a source of pride that I worked my way back from such a low point.
I've been able to walk pretty well since coming home. I usually have two walks a day around the neighborhood. Mom usually goes with me, but Dad does sometimes. On Friday Dad gave me a special treat. We drove to the beach and walked. It felt so good, but I was beat afterward. Sunday I found out just how far I have to go on my recovery. I got on the stationary bike for about 4 minutes and I was spent. The next fifteen minutes - I coughed. My lungs clearly need lots of work. Saturday also brought back an old nemesis, lower back pain. All those days of laying in bed and sitting in the chair agravated an old nerve that I have worked hard to put at bay over the years. Unfortunately, I can't do my normal yoga and swimming routines that keep my back in shape. Dad has been helping me stretch as much as possible and it is helping.
Monday was a better day. I was able to stretch out my back and reduce the pain, I also had a much better time on the bike. Today I had two good sessions on the bike. I have strict instructions not to let my heart rate exceed 130 beats per minute. I've been able to go about 20 minutes on the bike at a slow pace and keep the heart rate around 120 beats. They tell me this is good progress. Even though it is hard, I need to be on that bike at least twice a day. Maybe it will be a little easier when Florida weather returns later this week. It has been unusually cold.
I'm slowly getting used to my "bionic" heart valve. When it is quiet I hear it beating, like having a ticking clock in the room. They tell me that over time my brain will filter it out. Sometimes it gets on my nerves, but it also reminds me - "Hey Ken - you are alive!"
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