Today will fit in a nutshell and I’ll try to put it there. I got up after a sleepless night of discomfort. The [hospital] sphygmanometer was automatic every hour on the hour, ensuring you can’t really get more than an hour nap at the time. In terms of side effects, this is by far the most serious procedure I’ve ever had. I count my blessings there are places like Memorial West. While they, nor anybody, can do everything, at least the Memorial people have a positive attitude toward trying.I’ll talk a bit of medical, so skip today if you want thrills. I use the term “replace” about my stents, but stents are permanent. The arteries eventually incorporate them into the walls, and mine needed a second stent in the same locations. Many stents, few locations. The stent is a tiny wire tube that can be expanded, not compressed. It is inserted into position and expanded (I think) by a balloon. When the balloon is removed, the stent props open the shaft.
But there is a time lag while the balloon has to seal off the artery. That time is no picnic, for it represents a small heart attack. The sensation is one of having the gonads squeezed between two heavy books, a deep ache of an entire area that takes its time going away afterward. It was explained to me that this was a procedure of final faith, if this does not work, the next stage is bypass surgery.
I do believe I am equipped to make things work this time. I can, years of experience later, almost name the events which set off my symptoms, and they are all avoidable. One of my buddies, Dave Savino, got bypass surgery when he was quite young and as far as I know, he is still around. He has to take things easy, but bear in mind he was also the type that associated relaxation with doing nothing. I’m the opposite, give me an hour and I’ll read a good book.
Many thanks to Wallace, who seems to have the same policy as I do about rides to the airport. It does not matter if we have a falling out, or you disappear for decades, I will always give you a lift to and from the airport. I might get you there twice as fast if you are leaving than arriving; you can always count on me for a ride. Wallace must have been horrified by my condition, but kindly said nothing.
For the record, the recovery period is not determined by the heart. They would not have discharged me if that was the case. Instead, the procedure is done via a leg (femur) blood vessel. They insert a plastic tube creating an opening in your groin through which all the heart workings are done. When removed, the location of this incision, directly at the joint of your leg and torso, suffers a traumatic recovery.
You are pumped full of blood thinners and the opening (called a catheter) does not heal rapidly. The patient must lie motionless on his back for up to twelve hours, the last eight of which has a ten pound weight (the “sandbag”) pressing down on the bandaging. This is not a rest period, but a grueling endurance test. I don’t believe most people, as I managed, actually remain immobile. The worst side effect is a terrible lower back pain that cannot be relieved by shifting [around one's weight].
This does not take away from my compliments to the staff at the hospital. They are not responsible for such. I’m saying they do all they can to make your recovery and stay as pleasant as possible. I’m no John Wayne, but I did decline various offers of drugs for pain and sleep, as my last stay showed they make things worse when the grogginess wears off. Again, my decision, not the staff's.
I will be fine after another 24 hours of sleep.
