The Procedure

Two AM, 22nd of January, I was awakened by my dinghy banging on the side of Avalon. I was hoping I could sleep to at least 6AM. The wind from a cold front had made it's way into the marina and had created enough rocking and rolling to shift the fenders away from their intended places. Oh, well. I need to paint Avalon anyway. What's a few more scratches (divots)?

I had my alarm set for 6AM so I could take a shower, put on fresh, comfortable lounging cloths, jump in a taxi and go to Bay Pines VA Hospital. Once there it was sign in, have a seat, read a couple of chapters, find another book in the guest room I hadn't read by a favorite author then get collected by a nurse and taken to surgery prep.

Let me say this again; Bay Pines VA Hospital is one very fine facility staffed by some of the best talent and they are all there for the vet. I be one lucky yutz.

The purpose of my visit was to investigate some intermittent discomfort I had been experiencing. I had already had one heart stent put in and knew the symptoms. This was feeling just a little familiar. I work out hard and push my body to it's limits often. I'm not talking about weights unless it's my own 225 pounds. I'm talking about walking miles, biking tens of miles, rowing miles, pushing, pulling, lifting and working on Avalon. My knees just won't take running any more. I like my body and stay in touch with it. It's the only one I'm gonna get. Diet, exercise, rest, moderation.

So, anyway....I get the usual open in the back, draughty hospital gown, pink (no color is gonna challenge me!), placed in a gurney/bed and then get shaved in a very personal way by a nurse or two. Under different circumstances it might have been fun. Shortly afterwards I'm wheeled out of the prep area to the elevators by a cute Cubana, taken to the OR on the second floor and parked in the surgery waiting area.

By this time I'm having second thoughts about going through with the procedure. Not because of the discomfort of the process but because I wasn't all that sure that I wasn't misusing time and resources. I do tend a little towards hypochondria. I had voiced my concerns about that previously during my last consult. The response then from the doctor was non-committal. I voiced my concerns again in the OR and was told better to know than not to know. Let's take a look, anyway. OK. Let's get this done.

Once on the operating table, wide awake and curious, the OR nurse shaved my right wrist. I asked about that and was told that for an exploratory procedure it was easier to put the cath through the big vein in the wrist. If a stent was needed it would go through the groin in a larger catheter. This was a relief. When my last stent was installed the worst part of the procedure was plugging the hole in the artery. It's like plugging a leak in a tire with a gummy worm. Lots of pushing, twisting and then more pushing. I had a bruise the size of a small country after that. I wasn't looking forward to that happening again.

The best part of the procedure is...I GET TO WATCH! I love this kinda stuff! If it's tech or science, I'm into it. On the monitor above the operating table I got to watch the wire make it's way from my wrist to the heart, and then an xray visible die squirted into the heart. Way Cool. Listening to the surgeons talk, the banter and tech speak made me feel as if I was in my own little TV episode. I even got to participate in small ways by working various muscle groups by request. I was encouraged to ask questions which was great. It's nice to feel like one has a little control over the situation, even if it is illusory.

About 45 minutes later we had a group of pictures that showed beyond a doubt that there were three new blockages, two that needed work and one that was in the "grey" area. The stent that had been installed in 2008 was starting to close up at one end. That settled that. I was not being a hypochondriac this time. My discomfort was real and I had a serious problem that needed to be solved. It was just too much to be solved at that time. More consults and decisions to be made later. More to come about that in future blogs. I can say that open heart surgery was mentioned as an option.

Then it was back to the prep area on the third floor, wheeled by the same Cubana bonita and then lots of monitoring, poking and prodding by a very attentive nursing staff. All of this took about 5 hours, two peanut butter sandwiches, a few cups of coffee and half of the book I had found that morning. I gave the book I had brought with me to the waiting room. Gotta pay it back as well as pay it forward.

By the time that CB got to the hospital to claim my remains, I was starving and ready to GTFO. She mothered me out of the hospital, into her car and, to Carmalita's for a great Mexican dinner and a couple of dark beers and then to her place where I collapsed into bed and slept like a rock until 6AM. No discomfort from the procedure and a sense of relief that the heart problems I have were caught in time and are fixable.

My goal in all this is to be as healthy as I can for as long as I can. I have an ocean to explore and I'm REALLY looking forward to that and I REALLY don't want to miss any of it! We have just one chance to see this beautiful planet and all it's wonders. Chances are for taking. If you don't take chances with your life and your time you can miss so much. Some ask how can you walk away from the security of the land, the job, the family, the comforts of home and American civilisation. I ask, is this all there is? Work and worry, strive and reach for something you're not even sure you want? I know what I want. I want my life, my freedom, the ability to go where I want, when I want, how I want. That's freedom. It comes with a price. I'll pay it because it's my choice.

The only thing sure in this life is death. All the rest is up for grabs. A dream is no good if it stays a dream. Reach and explore, take responsibility for your own life AND ENJOY!