Heart Of Glass ; aka My Cardiac Misadventure

Cousins and friends wanted to visit while I was still in the hospital. I made excuses for them not to come. I really didn't want to see anyone, in fact, I still don't. I never liked visiting sick people, it always felt like an imposition...because it is an imposition. Make a call, send a card, send some flowers. When the patient is feeling better, he will visit with you. Don't take it personally. Here's another thing to consider, forget all about modesty. When you are hospitalized a million people are going to see your junk, and your arse. If you have a hairy chest (like I do) you are never going to hear the end of it. It seems like hairy people are very rare these days. Everyone is going to comment on it. If your surgeon is good, I mean really good, he will have NO bedside manner. I barely got five words out of mine. One of his associates did all the talking.  Marcus Welby is a myth. Most of the nurses you meet will be youngsters. Most of them stil

Finally, after four days, I was released from ICU and went to the second floor of the hospital. Apparently, my condition was no longer considered “critical”.    I lucked out, roommate wise, and got some big galoot Piney fellow who turned out to be a good guy. He was only in his 30s and had also had open heart, as well as a pacemaker installed. We got along just fine and I was glad for that.  We played cards and compared war stories.  Oh, also, his mother smuggled in some Chinese dumplings for us.    On my first night upstairs, I finally fell asleep and slept until they woke me up to do blood work and weigh me (which is so cruel when you think about it.  Sick people need to sleep until at least the sun has come up. Why draw blood and weigh us when all we really want to do is sleep?). Food Of The Gods Later on that next morning, my appetite came back with a vengeance. Up to this point, I was just having a sip of juice and pushing my meals away. That day I guzzled the cranb

The next thing I remembered was waking up, and thinking that maybe an hour had gone by but it was actually about a day later. Early Monday afternoon. I tried to talk, but I had to cough up this tube in my throat. My husband was there. And for a brief moment, I felt like I conquered a dragon. But that passed as soon as the reality hit me.  I had just gone through a pretty gnarly surgery and now I was hooked up to a million tubes and several machines.   For several days and nights, I lay in the ICU. I could not sleep and started having these little hallucinations, seeing things out of the corner of my eye. Family came to visit and while I was glad to see them, but I also did not want them there. I hated that anyone had to see me like this.  Stupid pride, I suppose, but it is what it is.   I kept asking the nurses if I was dying. They kept reassuring me I was fine.  I really think that mentally I was on some sort of brink for those few days.  If the nursing staff were not so reass

Part One: " It's The Big One Elizabeth! "  On Sunday, August 6 th , 2018 at around 9 pm I had a heart attack. I did not faint nor did I double over in pain.  Nor Did I pull a Fred Sanford and call out to Elizabeth (though the thought did cross my mind)  I just felt like I had a sharp cramp in the middle of my chest, and I was having a hard time breathing. I knew this was a heart attack. And when a hypochondriac is correct in his self-diagnosis, that is not a good thing . They took me to a local hospital and after some prodding and probing told me I needed open heart bypass surgery. That's when I closed my eyes and thought to myself, “This is not happening, this is a nightmare, that's all it is”.  But it was no fever dream it was real. At my request, they rushed me to one of the finest heart and lung hospitals in the area. It was a long ambulance ride, but I must say, with the nitro killing the chest pains, and laying on a gurney being rocked gently by the