The Heart Cath

We arrived at the Heart Hospital at 6:45 am, Tuesday, September 24. We checked in at the registration desk and Juli waited in the lobby while they ushered me back to prep me for the procedure.

Questions. Vitals. Gowning. Shaving of certain areas. I answered the same questions from the very friendly nurses: who's your surgeon? where are you having your surgery? how many kids do you have? 

Juli came back and we waited for awhile before they carted me back to the cath lab. 

I guess I really hadn't thought about it, but the cath lab was not what I expected. They wheeled me into a room that looked like something out of a science fiction film. A large, square room with two or three large pieces of medical equipment, with a control room behind glass in one corner, and several masked medical personnel scurrying about. The same list of questions followed, and one of the nurses asked about the minimally invasive procedure. She was very friendly and fired up about the latest medical techniques. Clearly, she is in the right profession. 

They hooked the bag up to IV and it started to hurt like crazy. The nurse said something about the needle hitting the wall or something and moved the IV to the right side. I didn't mind being re-stuck just as long as that shooting pain was removed from my forearm. 

It's certainly a strange perspective looking up at the top halves of faces and muffled mouths. I'd been in similar rooms when our kids were born, but it's a different thing when you're the center of medical attention. Not a very earth shattering observation, but something I hadn't considered before. 

They started the IV drip. Someone said I could stay awake for the procedure and the anesthetic was only a local, but I was knocked out almost immediately. I do remember seeing and talking to Dr. Fisch, but I can't remember whether it was before or after the cath. 

The next thing I remember, I am back in the recovery room and Juli and her sister Betsy (with little Cameron in tow) had e-mailed and text-messaged everyone they could think of...the results of the cath were negative. There were NO blockages in my arteries. I wouldn't have to have a bypass when they fix my mitral valve. Whew!

The surgery was over by 8:30 am, but I had to wait four hours recovering, waiting for my artery to clot. I'm not exactly sure how they insert the probe into the artery (near the groin on the top inside of my right leg), but it didn't require a stitch afterwards. Just bedrest. After four LONG hours, they sat me up to walk me around. Unfortunately, the "puncture wound" started bleeding again. As they had done before, they had to apply HARD direct pressure to the spot to stop the bleeding. Well, either the nurse applying pressure or the blood loss or the scare of the situation or the change in blood pressure did a number on me. Both the nurse and Juli asked if I was nauseous. I didn't feel it till they mentioned it. Then I felt it. Turns out my face was literally green, so they gave me some meds before I got sick. 

Since my incision (or whatever they call it) started bleeding, I had to start over. Four more hours of waiting (torture). I know lots of people go through much worse things than this, but I was uncomfortable and feeling a bit claustrophobic. The nurse ordered me a movie On Demand (not a comedy, because laughing could slow the clotting). Michael Crichton. Looked like a pretty good movie, but between the poor sound and the complex plot and my general discomfort, I ended up not watching the movie. 

Finally, after another four hours, they allowed me to walk around. So far, so good. But right before we were ready to go (after I had put on my clothes and they had removed the IV), the incision looked a bit puffy. They told me to wait another 15 minutes. If it got worse, I'd probably have to stay the night, which I didn't want to do. 

Fortunately, it didn't get worse and they released me. 

Juli and I went to pick up Ben and Sophia (who were being watched by Grandma Phyllis) and waited for Wesley to come home from his game (which Papa took him to). Of course, Wesley had made the game-winning tackle on the opponent's quarterback and we weren't there to see it. But the joy and excitement on Wesley's and Papa's faces were almost as good as being there.