Thursday 31 January 2008

Day 5

Its two weeks today since the op, so maybe it's time to take stock a little. Two weeks, just a summer holiday, and yet it's a time that has turned my life around.

Todays weather has been cold and windy, just the weather to keep me inside normally, and yet we went for a short walk this morning. Again, it wasn't far, but it was something I would have avoided like the plague only 15 days ago. Another landmark is that I actually managed to take Marg some breakfast in bed this morning! I used to do that every day ( I bet she missed it while I was away), and I got a real kick from doing it today.

So; the pros: Well, there's not a trace of Angina - not a jot, not a chest pain of any description. I do get breathless easily, but that is to be expected and doesn't cause me any real concern. I'm pretty sure my stamina will improve with time, and I feel GREAT!

I've noticed several rather odd effects since coming home. I've found pulses where I never knew I had them. Reading with my head against the bedhead produces one, and I have to say it feels rather strange.

My taste seems to have changed. I really don't fancy toast anymore, and I've always liked it, but now, I just don't want any. If it's offered I just turn my nose up at it. Strange eh?

My temperature seems to vary. One moment I'm hot, then chilly. The book said to expect this, but its a rather weird sensation, not unlike having flu, but without any of the other symptoms

The cons? Well, none really. My chest still hurts, but that is from the cut and must be expected. I also feel that it's "good pain" somehow, a healing pain is maybe the best way I can put it - and anyway I only take paracetamol for it, as and when required.

So as a progress report, I'm feeling pretty chipper.

One thing that does make me hurt is laughing, and Marg did for me last night! I suppose that you could say that it's a quote that you never expect to hear from your wife. She said, as we lay in bed "Oooh those stockings do feel funny on your legs." Now don't get the wrong idea, I have to wear support stockings for a few weeks but I cracked up and couldn't stop - and it hurt like hell!

Wednesday 30 January 2008

My wife

It's just occured to me that in all this blog I've only called my wife, "My wife", maybe it's time I introduced her properly.

Her name is Margaret - but only when I'm mad at her, normally she's Marg (as in Margarita, not Marge as in Simpson). Next month we'll have been married for 37 years, so I suppose she's sort of stuck with me now - maybe it's because I know when I'm on a good thing!

Being serious, those who have followed this blog so far will realise how close we are, and she has the knack of having just the right mixture of being both sympathetic and firm at the same time. She's a pretty amazing woman, and she'll kill me for posting this, but she really is one in a million...

Day 4

Another beautiful day, sun shining, crisp and cold. Just the sort I enjoy. I got up and I have to admit to feeling a bit shaky, but a shower works wonders and I felt so much better afterwards. Had my usual porridge for breakfast and then we went for a short walk around the block. It wasn't far at all, but what a difference fresh air makes to you. Somehow your lungs seem to fill and you feel more alive.

We called in on our neighbours Harry and June and spent a little time with them, chatting and drinking their tea, then back home to spend the rest of the day fairly quietly. I've decided that in the first flush of enthusiasm on Sunday I went a bit overboard and did too much. Having re-read the guidance in the book that I was given, far too much, so I'm pacing myself a little more now.

Tuesday 29 January 2008

Day3

I spent a quiet day today. I just stayed in and sat. I still feel a bit groggy from yesterday, but I'm at least 95% better. I've cut back on the painkillers and seem to be better for it. Although the pain has increased a little, it's nothing that I can't handle and I hate popping pills at the best of times.

So nothing much to report, no triumphs, but no setbacks either. Lets see how I go tomorrow when I'm determined to get out and get some walking done

Day 2

From the high of yesterday to the deepest low of today. I woke up in the early hours and went to get a drink. Sat in the living room idly channel hopping the TV. I suddenly, for no reason, felt sick. Its hard to explain, I'm sure you know the feeling. You're going to vomit, regardless of what you do or try, it's going to regardless. Well that how I felt and that's what happened. I can't begin to describe the pain, and somehow I just couldn't stop. It was like a cycle that once started didn't end until something was produced - and I had nothing to give. It was truly dreadful.

I staggered back to bed and slept a while, then woke again feeling just as bad. My wife called the doctor who advised coming off one of the painkillers, but I don't know whether that helped or not. The vomiting continued until mid morning, by which time I was completely drained.

I spent most of the rest of the day in bed, in an awful mixture of sleep and pain, but got up in the evening feeling marginally better. I didn't eat anything all day and only had some scramble egg in the evening, but it was enough to line my stomach and I went back to be feling a lot better.

I suppose one has to expect the occasional setback, but after such a great day yesterday it was pretty hard to take. I went back to bed and slept again but reawakened in the early hours again. Hoping against hope that I wasn't going to have a re-run I went back downstairs to get a drink. Fortunately the only thng I caught was my son sneaking in after a late night with his girlfriend - don't ask!

Day 1

What a wonderful day! I felt fitter than I've felt in years - sure I had a bit of pain, but that was nothing compared to the feeling of inner strength. I couldn't wait to see how I could do, and My wife and I went for a short walk in the morning. We walked , but not for far. Over the small rise that had nearly always had me puffing for breath, without a pause, and at a pace that I could never have kept up only 2 weeks before.

We got home again, both of us grinning like idiots. My wife made me sit down again, though I didn't want to and we stayed in for the rest of the morning. In the afternoon my daughter and her fiance came to visit and we all did the same walk again. The difference really is amazing . I can walk at a good brisk pace certainly for 400 yards or so, maybe a bit more. Who knows maybe I'll run for a bus yet!

A perfect day, absolutely perfect

Sunday 27 January 2008

The hospital



For reasons that will become clear this post will have to be a retrospective. I only got home yesterday after the operation, but I'll try to get down what has happened over the past few days.

We went to Castle Hill as a family. I suppose we must have looked a bit like people on a day trip or something. I checked in and was shown to my room - yes, a private room, not just a bed on a ward. There we waited until one of the nurses did the work up on my history. There followed a succesion of people who more or less asked the same questions and filled in different forms with the answers. The last person to visit was my surgeon, Mr Choudrhi. A small, dapper man he oozed confidence and inspired so much more, in both myself and my family. Some people have the ability to inspire trust on sight, and Mr Choudrhi is one of them. He told us all exactly what would happen and pretty much what to expect. After he left we all looked at each other and came to the same conclusion - I couldn't be in better hands.

Having said all the things families do at such times we parted and they went home leaving me in the capable hands of the nurse in charge, Julia.

The long wait began.

I was collected for surgery the following morning at about 11 am. I climbed on to the trolley and was wheeled away by a jocular porter, cracking jokes all the way while I lay back and watched the ceiling lights pass overhead, just like in the film Coma, and feeling just as out of control.

In the ante room I was hooked up to many lines and drips by another band of wisecracking medics. It seemed almost surreal to me, I was petrified and they thought of so many funny lines that I had no choice but to at least smile. Finally I heard some one say "Just one more", then - nothing.

I vaguely remember coming to and being given instructions to move in various positions to help get the various drains from my body, then slept again. At sometime I awoke and found my family around me. I remember thinking that at least I'd made it, and and the smiles of encouragement from them. Of course we talked, but what of, I have no idea. Time drifted past in a mixture of deep sleep and drowsiness.

It was sometime later that I woke again, this time feeling really terrible. I can't describe how I felt except to say the I knew I was on my way out of this world. I didn't think it, I knew it. Again I can only remember bits of what went on, but I asked for my wife to be brought. I was desperate to see her, and desperate is the right word. I remember hearing that, "his potassium levels are very high" and thinking that's the drug they give to people being executed to stop the heart. It seemed ironic to get this far and croak at the last - and I still hadn't seen my wife.

Eventually she arrived, having driven the 40 miles or so to be there. She brought my children too and I'll never forget the looks of concern on their faces, or just how wonderful my wife looked at that moment. I held their hands like there was no tomorrow - as indeed I was convinced there wasn't.

From what I have been told, my family stayed with me all day while I drifted in and out of awareness. It seems that my kidneys had failed to re-start properly and this was causing the problem. Again the staff were on top of the situation, and a dialysis machine was wheeled in and my body prepared for dialysis. In the event the kidneys started to recover after being given many drugs to aid their progress. So a scheduled one days stay in ICU turned into 5 nights, most of which is smething of a blur.

I was discharged from ICU on the Tuesday morning without really having chance to thank the wonderful nurses who cared for me on a one to one basis. How quickly their names are fading. Those I can remember were Adam, Zaraina and Debbie. It's a crazy world when these people that we meet so briefly can have such a profound effect on our lives and just slip into distant dreams. I want to thank all of them here for thier care and compassion.

I was moved from ICU to the High Dependancy Ward and met more wonderful people who treated me incredibly well. Its the little touches that make the difference, the way the breakfast lady made me porridge just for me, the way the nurses smile, and I suppose just the general caring attitude throughout the place. Slowly I grew stronger and was able to take first just a few guided steps, then something really adventurous - a visit to the loo - solo!

My family visited me daily. I dread to think how many miles they put on the car, or the cost of the fuel, but I was so pleased to see them, and so sad to see the leave again.

Finally I took the test that would decide whether or not I went home - the dreaded stair case. Two flights of stairs to be climbed, before being wheeled back to the ward.

I did it!

I knew I was on the home straight then, and became a regular pain asking to be discharged at every second verse. I finally was on Saturday 26th Jan, and rode home in style with my daughter driving me and missing every pothole. Oh man It's great to be home!




Wednesday 16 January 2008

Thanks everyone

Its Wednesday about 11am, and this will be the last post before the op. I was taken aback yesterday by how many people wished me well. Its really quite humbling that so many people care. So this is for everyone who has wished me well. I don't know how many, if any, read this blog, but I'm saying to everyone, family, friends home and abroad and customers a heartfelt thanks - and if good wishes will do the trick - I'll be through this in no time.

One small point. I remember saying at one point that I was more scared of the dentist than of the op. Well - I lied !

Monday 14 January 2008

GOT THE DATE !

I was driving along just minding my own business today, when my mobile rang. It was my son, telling me in an ominous tone of voice that I "had a phone message." He really sounded quite upset, so I sort of guessed that it was going to be from Hull, and it was. The message was to ring the surgeons secretary, which of course I did as soon as I got in. There has been a cancellation and my name was next on the list, would I like to have the operation on Thursday? I didn't give myself time for nerves to kick in, I just went for it and said "YES" loud and clear.

So, I'm committed. I have to go into hospital on Wednesday afternoon, so they can manage me pre-op, then have the op on Thursday. Am I nervous? Yes, a bit, quite a lot really, but I really just want to be well again, and I'm almost (but not quite!) looking forward to it. I'm pretty sure that I'll add to this post before I go, but just at the moment I'm a bit jittery and find it a bit tricky to concentrate on much

Saturday 12 January 2008

Last nights dance

Well we went, and we had quite a good time all in all. Its strange how, although we only meet up once a year, I seem to have become quite good friends with a few of my wife's work colleagues and their wives / husbands. I think it maybe that the actual employees of the place are so busy talking shop and so on, that we partners have to make our own conversation, but whatever, I was a little surprised and very grateful to receive so many good wishes from so many different people.


One of the things that seems to have changed a lot in today's society is the way people greet each other. It now seems obligatory to kiss ladies on the cheek, ladies who I hardly know, and I have to say that I'm not comfortable doing it. To me it seems false somehow. I mean I do only see these ladies once a year, and the "air kiss" is something reserved for my closest female friends and relatives really. However, it's quite a rarity for a man of my age to be able to hug a young girl and not get his face slapped, that I took full advantage last night.

One of the people who I hardly know is a director of the company, but he took me to one side and told me how he had had a by-pass done 10 years ago and that it really was the best thing to happen to him - ever. Judging from the way he was dancing and the energy that he had, I must believe him. I really hope I can be like it too. It would be really great to reassure someone in my position some years hence, and maybe even point them to this blog. We'll see.

We had a nice time and renewed acquaintances with several people. I managed a couple of dances (well, more like one-and-as half, really) and stayed sober all night. My son was pretty disappointed by this as the spectator sport is watching me lean on the edge of the living room door trying (vainly) to balance after one or two too many G&Ts.

The only fly in the ointment was that I had a really dreadful night after turning in. I lost count of how many times angina woke me, but it was many times. I try not to wake my wife, but she's as nervous as a kitten about me just now. In the normal course of events I would have taken myself off to the spare room, but it's pretty full at the moment and I couldn't face moving stuff around. I try to sleep sat upright, but as I doze off I slide down the pillow which provokes an angina episode. To be honest I'm pretty fed up about it and glad that things are coming to the end.

Friday 11 January 2008

Tonights is just a very quick post. It's my wifes firms dinner dance and I'm all bathed, sweet smelling and ready to rave. So we're going, and I intend having a bloody good time - after all it'll be a little while before I get chance to go again. I might even give my wife a quick swirl around the floor. I quite enjoy a bop, but I get breathless about half-way through a record. So this year will be a bit "steady".

Next year, though, stand by for a real raver!

More news tomorrow - headache permitting...

Wednesday 9 January 2008

The Assessment

Todays post could be quite a long one, and not just because of the assessment as you’ll see.

I had a bad night last night. Somehow I couldn’t sleep. I was worrying about going to Hull today and wondering what was going to be entailed in the assessment. I expected to feel a bit like a bug under a microscope but in the event the experience was not too bad at all. First though, we had to trauma of the bathroom…

Some little time ago, I had the misfortune to take a shower and have the bottom of the bath crack on me. This of course caused a few problems with water leaking and so on. I patched it up as best I could, but we needed a new bath – and quickly. My son works at a big DIY store, but we were warned off their baths as they are apparently very thin. Instead we opted for a (much) more expensive one. I just braced myself and paid. One of my wife’s friends is a plumber and he agreed to change the bath for us. He arrived smack on time at 7:30 am and set to work. Shortly afterwards he asked for the water to be turned off. I attempted to turn off the stop cock, but it had seized, and I couldn’t shift it. Jason had a look, he couldn’t shift it either, but my trying had started it leaking.

Happiness was not the word at that moment…

Jason went to turn off the water in the street, only to find the little hatch sealed closed by years of dust and rubbish, plus, when he did manage to open it the whole lot was full of clay covering all the tap. He’s a brilliant kid though and just set to work hauling out handfuls of freezing clay until he eventually found the tap three feet down the hole – and seized !

My stress levels were heading for the Stratosphere by now, as time was marching on and although we managed a shower that morning when we got up, I had visions of being without water for some time. Eventually Jason managed to turn off the water and everyone heaved a sigh of relief. We had to go shortly afterwards and set off for Hull, both wondering what we were going to find on our return. There is building work going on at Castle Hill Hospital, actually being done by my wife’s employer, and finding our way to the unit proved to be a little challenging, but we got there eventually, checked in and waited for a short time.

My name was called and I was taken off to a small ante room where I had an ECG taken. The lady who did it was a bit of a turn, and I left her company a few minutes later chuckling to myself. Another short wait, then I was called again, this time to see the specialist nurse, who turned out to be an absolute hoot!

Together with my wife, and another lady who came in to take blood samples, I was set upon by three female musketeers, all intent on making men feel insignificant – but in banter only. If I had a serious question then Jenny (the nurse) would answer it seriously, but she managed to keep the whole thing light. If anyone is reading this before they have the procedure, then I’d better get to the point and explain what is behind the assessment.

As far as I could see it was to allow me to ask questions, but also to check me out for allergies, infections and so on. One of the big fears is MRSA and I had nasal, groin and armpit swabs taken to check for that. It seems that about 40% of the population have it living in their noses (yuk) and never have any problems, but if they get weakened, for example, by surgery, then it can be fatal. It can also spread like wildfire among sick people, so it’s important to find out if you are carrier. If you do carry the bug, then it’s a very simple matter to rid you of it. Just nasal ointments and some anti biotic. Blood is taken presumably for typing and testing and you are weighed . In fact they give you a pretty full MOT including a chest x-ray.

Of course the nurse can’t really answer the one question everyone wants to ask “When will I have the op?”, but she gave me a pretty good idea. It’s likely to be between 1 to 4 weeks. As I have to stop taking one of my tablets for a week before the op, it looks like my guess about a fortnight may be about right.

Anyway, If you've waded through all this, the moral of this tale is - don't have a new bath fitted on the day of your assessment...

Oh, and there is one final bit of info, which I hadn't thought of, and really wish hadn't been mentioned - the catheter! Yes, they insert a catheter. Fortunately they insert after you're asleep, but it comes out two days later, while you're wide awake. Now isn't that something to look forward to!

Tuesday 8 January 2008

A little speculation

Tomorrow,s going to be one of those red letter days in this saga. I have to go for my pre-assesment for surgery. That being the case, I'm going to indulge myself in a little speculation as to how things will go. I'm assuming that I'm fit enough to have the operation, if not I'd better start getting measured for a shroud. The various tests are scheduled to take somewhere about 2 hours, so we'll set off in good time to get to Castle Hill Hospital. My appointment is for 12:45, so we'll be away by about 11:00.

If I pass all the tests, and I really aren't sure what they entail, I have been told at sometime the op should be about a fortnight later. I would make that either on Monday the 21st or the 28th of January. I have a feeling that the intakes will be on a Monday, though, of course I could be completely wrong.

If I'm right about either date it means that I should be through the worst of the immediate aftermath by our anniversary (the 20th of Feb, darling, just in case you thought I might forget) I hope so, but of course it all depends on tomorrows outcome.

Of course, I'm probably completely wrong, but I hope to have some idea of a date for the op soon now.

Friday 4 January 2008

Blood

I came upon an interesting fact today while browsing throught www.heart2hearts.co.uk. It sems that the average by pass patient requires between 2 and 4 units of blood during the op. To be honest I wasn't sure how much a unit is, but it turns out that it is 454ml or nearly a pint.

My wife is a blood doner, and has been for a number of years but I can't donate having the health I do. It just struck me that there must be thousands of people like her who go to the blood centres and give blood for people like me to receive.

If you're one of them - thank you!

Thursday 3 January 2008

Families - mine in particular

It's often said that you can choose your friends, but not your families. It's true of course, but if I had the power of choice I'd choose my family every time. It's easy to become over sentimental in this sort of post, but my family are - well, just the best.

My wife and I were talking the other night about how we're going to go on immediately after the operation. She is in the process of making arrangements to work from home. Now I didn't know this, somehow it never occured to me to think about afterwards. It then transpired that my daughter has also made arrangements to have time off - using some of her valuable holidays that she may well need later in the year (she marries in late August) Not only that, but my son has been working on changing shifts and finishing early so the he can be around too. One way or another it seems that I'm not going to be left on my own for quite some time.

The thing that sort of fills me up, is that all these arangements are being made without any of them telling me about it. I don't even know if they've told each other!