Post-surgery naps were frequent, but short
Yes! Two weeks post-surgery and finally the end of the frustratingly slow phase one recovery from my aortic valve replacement. Now it’s on to phase two, weeks two to four.
With much anticipation I grabbed the “Recovery From Heart Surgery” information packet and began reading.
Continue walking and doing your breathing exercises.
Lift or carry light objects (maximum 5 pounds) short distances with both hands.
Go to a movie or out for dinner
Light housework such as dusting, setting the table or washing the dishes.
What a letdown. Other than going to a movie or washing dishes or dusting (which I never do anyhow) I have been doing those things for the last week. Which meant one of two things: I was either ahead of schedule or doing things I shouldn’t be, and my surgeon would probably cuff me up the side of the head if he knew. Surprisingly, Lynne, my RN wife and home care specialist, hadn’t smacked me up the side of the head, herself.
In re-reading the instructions for the first two weeks post surgery, turns out I was supposed to restrict myself to activities similar to the hospital level before I was discharged. That was spending all day in a recliner, eating three meals, doing a few little breathing exercises on my own and taking a few very, very short walks around the ward at the Mazankowski Albert Heart Institute.
My daily routine at home for much of the last week has been walking 15-20 minutes a day, going out for coffee or lunch with Lynne, doing plenty of stairs, and lifting or pushing some objects that may have weighed more than five pounds – for this Lynne did chastise me. In fairness I try to avoid any weights, using my feet and legs a lot to do things like open doors.
Tuesday I had my first post-op check-in with my family doctor and she assured me all was fine. The four-inch incision where my sternum was cracked open is healing nicely, all the holes where wires and tubes had been inserted into various places on my chest and arms were all healed, blood pressure is fine and everything seems to be progressing as it should.
And yes, I could work on my computer. Thus my multi-part surgery tale begins today.
The last 24 hours were kind of two steps forward, one small, but painful, step backwards. On the positive side, the doctor’s appointment went well, and Tuesday night to Wednesday morning was the first time in 16 nights that I feel like I actually slept. Since surgery day I have been sleeping in one-hour increments. Spending far more time lying awake wondering why the heck can’t I fall asleep when I’m totally exhausted, than I did sleeping.
Then there was the step backwards, a painful reminder to smarten up. I was reaching for a can when my foot slipped and by instinct I reached out my right hand to balance myself. The moment my hand touched the dresser the pain in my chest was sudden and excruciating.
Fortunately, no damage was done. But the reminder was clear: the outside, skin wound may be mostly healed but inside, the sterum is a long way from being healed. Another four weeks minimum.
My own concern now, is not doing anything stupid that could set back recovery. And that, especially for someone like myself who has been relatively active all my life, is increasingly frustrating.
Like Tuesday afternoon when I basically sat and watched Lynne cut and edge the grass and go to war with an ant hill on the boulevard…things that I should be doing!
And then my boys, Matt and Brent, coming over to mix soil, fertilizer and seed to redo large patches of the grass that desperately needed attention.
Or things like making dinners. Yeah, I have barbecued a couple of times, but Lynne has to turn on the propane and open and close the BBQ cover.
Or doing the laundry on Sundays, another thing I regularly do. Not these days.
Want to pick up my laptop and move it? Call Lynne.
Want to dry my back after a shower? Call Lynne.
Want to go anywhere? Call Lynne the chauffeur. And I can’t even sit in the front seat because of the danger of the airbag inflating. I have to wait for Lynne to open the sliding door of the Caravan so I can get into the back seat.
So yes, it is extremely frustrating. But, it must be done. And so, it shall be done.
Tomorrow: hallucinations.
