The final countdown is underway to cutting day, Tuesday, May 15. That’s when I’m scheduled to undergo open heart surgery to replace a malfunctioning aortic valve that’s been troubling me for a few years.
I’ve known I would need the surgery since an angiogram on April 3 showing that while I had nearly perfectly clean arteries for a 71-year-old, the aortic value had virtually ceased to function to the point where the catheter couldn’t get dye into the heart. The need for surgery was confirmed by a cardiologist on April 14 when she explained that when an aortic valve is healthy and properly functioning it opens to about the size of a loonie. Mine opens to the about the size of a pinprick!
Which means my little old heart has been working overtime just to get enough fresh, oxygen-laden blood out into my body, including the brain. While discussing things with my heart surgeon I asked about continuing to go to the gym where my heart rate rises to about 125, 135, sometimes 150 while on the treadmill or bike.
These aren’t his words, of course, but his meaning was clear: are you stupid? Didn’t you hear what I just said about how overworked your heart is? You may think your heart rate is 130 or whatever but your heart is working two, three times harder just trying to get enough blood through that tiny opening in the aortic valve.
Oh, right. So, no more gym. No ball this summer. No golf. SIGH. In fact, I’ve been restricted the last three weeks to “light walking, no more than about two kilometres.” Fortunately, Tims is only about 2.5 kms.
So, while I’ve known this is coming for a few weeks now, I think the reality of it hit home on Tuesday when I had my pre-admission appointment. Was I nervous? Well, my blood pressure reading was 163 over 70. My normal resting heart rate ranges between about 46 and 52. On Tuesday it up to about 65 and that was after I had been sitting for about 15 minutes.
And when the anesthetist, or, if you prefer, anesthesiologist, told me point blank to shut everything down, including walks, until the surgery, I figured it was time to really pay attention.
So now I’m into waiting mode. But confident in the outcome. My surgeon is Dr. Jayan Nagendran, who happens to be director of research for the cardiac surgery department at the Mazankowski Alberta Heart Institute. His surgical specialty is in heart and lung transplants, so I figure this value replacement is a simple procedure for him.
Plus, after Dr. David Steinke saved my life back in 1996 with eight hours of surgery after my ruptured cerebral aneurysm, and I was lucky enough to have my now-retired family doctor, Dr. Donoff, insist on sticking his finger up my butt and detected prostate cancer before it had spread outside the prostate so surgery eliminated that problem, I know we have a pretty damn good health system here when it cones to major issues.
My new valve will be from the tissue of a cow, rather than a mechanical one. I’m told that’s because of my age but I like the idea that I won’t have to take blood thinner for the rest of my life, which would be the case if I were to get a mechanical value.
My real concern right now is how to deal with the panic I know is coming when I wake up after surgery with that breathing tube down my throat. I panicked after the two previous surgeries and thankfully my wife, Lynne, was there holding my hand and calming me down until the tube was removed. But the tube came out shortly after those surgeries. From everything I’ve read about heart surgery, that tube doesn’t come out until the next day!!!
A small price for what should be a major improvement in my life. I never thought much of it two summers ago when I found myself huffing and puffing after simply sprinting from home to first base at ball. Nor did I think much of it the previous winter when I suddenly found myself bent over, searching for breaths while heading to the bench after just one hard sprint the length of the rink at hockey.
Tuesday I was told to expect a major improvement in everything, including…get this...my mental functions. That makes sense since post-surgery there will be a lot more blood flowing to the brain. So yes, I’m looking forward to once-again having the physical strength and abilities of a 28-year-old plus long and short-term memory functions that actually work!
Too much to hope for? Probably, but hey, it will be such a joy just being able to again sprint full-speed around the base paths, to skate hard for a full shift and to actually remember things from one day to the next.
Could there be a better birthday present for Lynne, whose birthday is May 16?
