Almost a month!

So, now I'm here at my sister's and probably did too much today.  But, overall, I'm having to take less pain meds, so I guess that's progress.

With my sister, Peggy, I'm able to piece together what happened.  Peggy's an RN on an oncology ward and has had 2 MI's herself, even though she's almost 4 years younger than I am. She's my one relative that's lived through the heart attacks.  Well, my dad lived through his first one, too, and so did my mom.  My little brother (9 years younger) Andy, lived through his first one, too, but only by 11 months.  Anyway, Peg could explain things and share what happened from her point of view.  It's a wonder that I was so deeply in denial all these years.  I absolutely wouldn't take my family's cardiac history seriously.  Well - that's not right.  I took it seriously - it scared the hell out of me - but I refused to believe it could happen to me.  I told Peggy that - for being so close to dropping dead - I should have had more symptoms.  She pointed out that I HAD had symptoms, but that my response was to blow them off or explain them away.  And my GI troubles didn't help b/c I could and did attribute some of the signs as gut stuff or GERD. 

She wasn't hesitant to point out the various things I'd told her in the past year - like my having a little chest pain while dragging my rolling bag from the  office to the parking lot one day and how I had to stop several times to catch my breath and to wait til the pain subsided.  She had a lot of other examples. 

My brother-in-law, Dan, has had quadruple (?) bypass surgery after experiencing cardiac arrest and having multiple stents put into place.  Not even a year later, all but  one of the bypasses had failed and he had to have more stents put in.  He also shared that one of his wires in his chest has broken and pokes him from time to time.  He doesn't want to fix it b/c he says that they'll have to partially re-open his chest.  Shit, I didn't even know that COULD happen!!  How does he live with all this?  How does he handle it, emotionally?!  He says he's needed stuff to help him sleep ever since this started b/c laying there in bed thinking about all the possibilities was hell.  So the answer to this re-definition of self isn't going to be simple or easy.  Fancy that. 

I miss by Cece terribly, but I appreciate that she's relieved of the stress of taking care of me and trying to be in two places half the time. 

Still nothing as far as my daughter going into labor.  I hope she doesn't fart around and not have it until I have to leave.  On the other hand, every day that goes by I'm a little stronger and can be more help to Jenny instead of someone else to take care of. 

My sister doesn't have a lazy-boy so I'm sleeping on a regular bed with tons of pillows.  It's not quite as comfortable as the lounger, but still worked all right.  I'm waiting for the day when I can actually sleep on my side again.  I'm not a natural back sleeper, but that's my only choice right now.

Here in NC

Made the plane trip ok, though it was a bit of a nightmare.  That was Saturday.  US Airways not all that good at taking care of its wheelchair passengers - much less those that have a layover.

Here at my daughter, Jenny's.  She moved her large lazy-boy into the TV room.  It's more comfortable than my chair at home.  Although she's 9 months pregnant herself, she's taking pretty good care of me.  But I miss my wife already and feel displaced.  Yesterday found myself crying off and on - without any reason I could put my finger on except that I felt lonely and sorry for myself b/c of everything that's happened.  It's so hard to come to grips with what's happened to me.  I'd give anything for this not to have happened.  Now I know what my sister was trying to convey after she had her massive heart attack.

Surprisingly, felt pretty good physically Sunday.  I thought the trip would really set me back but I didn't feel all that bad the next morning.  I went for a long ride with my daughter who's taking care of her friend's animals while her friend is out of town.  Now, I WAS hurting when I got back from that.  Daughter doesn't seem to appreciate how weak I still really am.  When I asked for a glass of water, she grumbled saying that I ought to get it myself b/c it would help me.  Maybe she's right, but I'll stick to my doctor's instructions to do what I can, but back off and rest when I've done more than enough for the day.   I wish it was already behind  me - say like 6 months or so.  I wonder, though, how long it'll take me to feel better inside?

My cardiologist, Dr. V., thought I was pushing it by coming up, but bowed to the cardiac surgeon's opinion.  But he also said he wanted me to enroll in cardiac rehab.  He said that most of his patients enjoy it.  I'm open to going, if only to meet others who've gone through the same thing.

I wonder how much time I have left?  How much did this affect my lifespan?  I fear having to have stents or more surgery down the road.  I don't think I could do this again.  So many "what if's" rattling around in my head.  Blah blah - I wish I could turn it all off!!

Incision site still giving me the most pain.  I'm able to breathe in much more fully now, though.

I know that I'll be turned over to my sister's care in the next day or to, but don't know how or when that's going to happen.  It's about an hour from sister's house to daughter's.  Hate not being able to drive - but can see why that's out of the question.  Not all that much I can do with my arms that doesn't put a serious hurting on my chest.  Yes, I did bring my hospital bear; Bruna. She's my little security blanket and buddy.

Sorry I didn't blog for a few days.  I admire my friends who blog on a daily basis.  Not sure if I can be that consistent, but I'll try.

I've never been away from my Beloved this long.  Even when I made these reservations when I was (thought I was)  perfectly healthy, being away for a full 12 days gave me pause.  Now, without her and without my sense of self . . . it feels really weird.  Will I ever feel normal again?

Wednesday on the move

Saw Dr. H. yesterday and he was pleased with my progress.  YEA!   He's totally OK with my going up to NC - just says get a wheelchair and let them "baby" me.   He picked the loose pieces of glue from my incision and it looks much better now.  You can see where the actual scar line will be.  I wonder if I'll ever get used to it??  The men I've talked to who've had bypass surgery haven't worried a whole lot about their scars.  Seems to be a female thing.  Or maybe they (men) just hide it.

I have mixed feelings about going to NC.  I know my darling doesn't have anyone else to "watch" me next week while she's working and she doesn't feel comfortable leaving me alone all day.  So my sister and BIL babysitting me makes her feel more secure.  I like the idea myself.  Plus I can never see enough of my sister - who has many health issues of her own.

I'm mostly over feeling unwanted by my daughter, realizing that she has her own fears about becoming a single mother and having a mother who - instead of taking care of her - might need caring for herself!  Who knows, it's entirely possible that she won't even have the baby until after I go home.  Who can predict these things?  I certainly had no idea when I made the reservations that I would be 3 + weeks from bypass surgery!

I'm having to think about getting all my stuff and medicines together for the trip.  How daunting!!  Went to my primary doc this morning.  As expected, my blood pressure was up after having Dr. H. take me off my Diovan since the surgery.  Dr. W. (primary) got me right back on it and I took one when I got home.  Seems that surgery makes the blood pressure go down.  Maybe all the extra fluids they give you??  Or maybe it's just the shock to the system.  Dr. W. wrote me another script for my pain meds in case I run out before I get back.  Also stocked up on my anti-depressant (Cymbalta).  God knows I'm having a tussle with depression.  Of course, that's probably completely normal in this situation.

I got into my waterbed for the first time since the surgery yesterday.  Figured Lola would haul me out if I couldn't get my own ass out of the bed.  I've slept in a waterbed so many years, though, that it wasn't difficult for me to get out of the bed.  It DOES, however, put a lot of pressure on the arm and shoulder closest to the outside of the bed as you roll out.  As I lay there in my bed, looking out the window at my mango tree, my thoughts went to that fatal Thursday morning (April 28th) when I woke up with those pesky palpitations that started this whole mess.  Who would have thought I'd be laying there today weeks later with my chest having been opened up??  I felt a wave of sadness run through me so strongly.  That "nothing will ever be the same again" blue feeling.  I know I should be grateful to be alive - and I am.  But still.  Still.  I still wonder in awe "how could this have happened to me?"  I'm mortal; like the rest of you.  Didn't I know that??  Yes, but.  . .

When I went into Dr. H.'s office yesterday, the women at the front desk almost literally jumped up and down with excitement, telling me how much BETTER I looked than last week.  They were so happy.  And all I could think was "who ARE these people?"   I didn't remember even seeing them.  Cece asked didn't I remember barely being able to walk into the office last Wednesday (all the way from the parking lot)?  I pushed and recalled a few things, but still didn't remember the office women or talking to them.  That was just last Wednesday.  Hell, I've been blogging since then!  How strange and how hopeful that so much can change in 6 days!!!

I'm tired a lot, though.  Running around to these visits really tires me out.  And puts me in pain.  I'm able to cut down to 1 pain pill every 4 hours at night but still need the full 1 1/2 during the day to get through.  That, like everything else, I have to have patience with.  I'm not all that good on patience.

I keep reliving the time in the hospital.  Mostly the feelings, since the details are so screwed up in my brain.  The unbelievable fear and pain and exhaustion and weakness.  What other words can describe it?  There must be more b/c I FELT more!!  And I remember my fierce determination to LIVE and get well!!  And I remember once, some place along the way, thinking that no wonder Mom gave up and just passed on.  It was just too hard for her.  Had I known how hard it would be, would I have just given up, too?  I don't know.  I don't think so - but I'm not sure.  Anyone who comes through this type of surgery (and I'm sure other types qualify too) is a courageous warrior who at some point makes a commitment to LIVE.  I guess that means myself included.

Well, gotta get on that packing list.  See if I can get away with a carry on or whether they're going to gauge me to check a bag.  Ugh.  I hate US Airways!!  Flying is a trial nowadays, not the fun it used to me (a long, long time ago).  People who've never known the difference would be shocked at how it used to be.  Ah, well.  It's expedient.

Thanks for listening, y'all.  (Not so) D.D. signing off.