One Year Later

One year ago, at the age of 43 years, 8 months, and 17 days, I under went an emergency double coronary artery bypass. It all started with a little pain in my left shoulder. I was walking from my office to the train station, a 10 minute walk, one day after work. As I walked, I started getting a sharp pain in left shoulder. The pain wasn't very strong so I didn't think much of it. After I got to the train station the pain disappeared. Over the next several days, every time I walked from the train station to my office or from my office to the train station, the pain came back. It gradually intensified and spread down my left arm and into my chest. After about a week and half, I decided I could no longer ignore this pain and needed to see a doctor. Of course, I hadn't told my partner Chuck that the pain had gotten worse, so he was not very sympathetic to my desire to see a doctor.

So off to the urgent care center I went. I explained to the doctor what had been happening and he immediately said that I would need a stress test and might to be sent to the hospital immediately if they could not run the stress test at the clinic. He also asked about family history of heart disease. I knew there was some bad family history with respect to heart disease but I never thought it would pertain to me. In 1992, my mother's brother, my Uncle Mike, died from a sudden heart attack at the age of 44. His death certificate indicated that he had atherosclerosis (i.e., hardening of the arteries or blocked arteries) and an enlarged heart. A short time later, another of my mother's brothers, my Uncle Vince, was diagnosed with coronary artery disease; he was about 40 years old. Also, my grandmother's (my mother's mother) brother, my Uncle John, died in 1957 just one month shy of his 35th birthday from a sudden heart attack. In addition, both of my parents are on high blood pressure medication and my mother is also on medication for high cholesterol. I told all of this to the doctor and for the first time realized how significant it was to my life. I called home and left a voicemail for Chuck explaining what I knew at that time which wasn't much.

The doctor was able to have another doctor at the clinic give me a stress test. The results of the stress test were not good and the doctors decided that I had to go to the hospital
immediately so that the cardiologist their could do an angiogram. Before leaving the clinic, I called home again to let Chuck know what was happening. This time I did speak with him and told him all I knew. He was incredulous that a little pain in the shoulder could lead to all this drama but was concerned and supportive. As we only have one car, which I drove to the clinic, he called his sister and asked her to drive him to the clinic so he could pick up our car and then meet me at the hospital.

I was transported the 5 minutes to the hospital by ambulance with siren and lights blaring. Great fun! In the emergency room, their primary goal was keep me as comfortable as possible and then get me to a room as soon as possible. I wasn't in the ER very long, maybe about an hour before they took me to my room. The angiogram was scheduled for next morning. After getting settled in my room, Chuck arrived and I caught him up on what I knew. Now came the unpleasant task of notifying my family. I knew that if Chuck called my parents they probably wouldn't answer the phone or if they did wouldn't want to talk for long, but since I could call them from the hospital, he had to make that call. A short time later my father called my hospital room. His first question was to ask me who was in the hospital. I told him it was me and then proceeded to tell him what had happened. I asked my dad to call my siblings to let them know what was going on and to give them the phone number for my hospital room. I also asked Chuck to notify my boss and friends. At last, I could rest and begin waiting. The following morning, the angiogram was scheduled for 10:00. I was taken down to the cath lab where the nurse prepped my for the procedure. Chuck arrived shortly before the procedure was to start so I got to see him before they sedated me. The doctors did a good job of explaining exactly what would happen and thanks to the wonders of anesthesia I have no memory of the procedure.

After the angiogram, the doctors woke me up enough to tell that they found 2 arteries that 95+% blocked and that I would require immediate bypass surgery. The only thing I remember from this period is seeing the pictures of the blocked arteries. They did the surgery the same day, starting in later afternoon. Chuck and his sister waited at the hospital for many hours until they were told that I was out of surgery and in the recovery room. He wasn't able to see me but left the hospital knowing that I was in good hands.

The first time that I woke up after the surgery, still in an anesthetic haze, I sill had a tube in my throat and my arms in restraints (so I wouldn't try to pull the tube out of my throat). The doctors had prepared me for this do I don't remember being alarmed. The following morning was I woke up they took the tube out and removed the restraints. Later that morning, Chuck was able to visit and told me that my sister, Mary, was on her way. She decided that she could not stay at her home in North Carolina while I went through this life-altering and life-threatening ordeal. I was surprised and deeply appreciative that she would come. I have, I think, a very good relationship with all of my siblings; they are my best friends. The overriding feeling I had during this period was calm. I don't remember being anxious or worried about what was happening to me. So that is why I was surprised that Mary decided to travel to Indiana to be with Chuck and me. I know that my family were much more anxious for me than I was for myself.

After a couple of days in cardio-vascular intensive care, I was transferred to a regular hospital room. The days passed somewhat slowly and the first time the physical therapist came to get me to walk I thought she was insane. How could they possibly expect me to walk only a few days after having this major surgery. But, walk I did. After about a week in the hospital, the doctors said I was ready to go home. It seemed an unattainable ideal to me. I felt that I could barely feed myself, let alone do anything else. But as usual, I severely underestimated myself and my ability to cope to with a difficult, to say the least, situation.

With caring doctors and nurses, a changed perspective and attitude about food and exercise and some terrific meds, I am now doing quite well. My cardiologist assures me that if I continue with the changes I have made, eating healthier foods, exercising, and taking my meds, I should not have a recurrence of the problems which landed me in the hospital a year ago.

So the moral of this story is pay attention and take to heart, no pun intended, your family history and make sure you share that family history with your health care provider. It just might save your life.