Testing, testing

Due to some sort of medical protocol or federal guidelines or some obscure and long-lost section of the Hippocratic Oath, the Cleveland Clinic needed to do all their own tests even though they already had all my records from Indy. 

The hospital is only two blocks from our hotel so at about 6:40am, we walked down Euclid Avenue in the dark (okay, there were street lights along the way) to the hospital. We get there, give them my name, and wait to get checked in. 

The hospital is an incredible building and, according to one conversation I overheard during the day, cost $1 billion dollars to build. That's along the lines of the new Lucas Oil Stadium and Convention Center or a new Casino in Vegas, but given all the high-tech equipment, I wouldn't be surprised one bit. Well, just did a quick search and found that it was more around $600 to $650 mill. Ish. But still. The place is impressive. While the renovated Community North in Indy is very nice, it's more like a great, big Starbucks. This place is more streamlined, high-tech and minimalist, which I'm sure is due in part to the fact that they get so many international patients. Just a guess. One of the coolest features is the "fountain" in the front of the hospital that is clear glass on the sides and has a blue hue due to, I think, colored glass. Looks like a big, blue Jell-o mold jiggling anytime the wind blows across it...watch it wiggle, see it jiggle. I can't seem to find a photo on the web, but here is the building itself with the reflecting pools in front.  

We were at the hospital from before 7am and didn't leave till around 5pm. Actually, the testing didn't take very long at all, but the waiting is what made our day so very long. A quick recap: 

Meeting Dr. Grimm (great name, huh?). Actually, Dr. Grimm was very positive. And nice. He walked us through through the procedure and answered a few questions. He's one of the cardiologists who sees patients before and after surgery. One of his partners will probably see me after surgery, but this Grimm fellow seemed pretty sharp. I told Juli that, mostly because of his hair, that he looked like he could play a TV doctor (I am a doctor, but I don't play one on TV). The best news was that he said that I might be able to avoid the Trans Esophageal Echo cardiogram. But he'd have to wait till he saw the results of my lab work and the regular echo. He also said that they'd be doing a TEE during my surgery (I'll be asleep) so that's another reason I might not need to have it beforehand. Fingers crossed. Toes, too. 

EKG/Chest X-Ray/Blood Test. It seemed like the completed all of these in less than 10 minutes, and it couldn't have been much longer than that. They have lots of techs working and they got me in and out and from room to room fairly quickly. 

Echo cardiogram. I've had several of these in Indy, and this one was similar for the most part...other than the fact that the tech was very friendly and chatty and we talked football (he's a Denver fan living in Browns town). The one thing they didn't differently here was, after the standard digging around with the goo-covered sensor on the left side of my ribcage, they placed the sensor at the bottom of my ribcage and just above my sternum below my neck. He said it gives them images of the aorta, and that it is standard protocol at the CC. He said a lot of places don't do it (including the several places I had been to), but it's good information to have. Dr. Grimm came in and looked at the results, and said he'd meet with me and Juli later. He did. And he said I didn't have to have the TEE. 

Cafeteria. You wouldn't think that going to the cafeteria would be a meaningful experience, but it actually was. After having lunch at the deli across the street from the hospital, we brought back a piece of carrot cake so we could eat it with Starbucks coffee instead of the often-questionable coffee-shop coffee. When we were sitting at the table, and older couple sat down next to us and starting chatting. Turns out, he was 91 and she was 92. He was cracking jokes left and right (funny jokes, not your typical old-guy, heard-them-a-thousand-times before jokes). One of the funniest things was that he kept joking how the lady next to him had food that looked so much better. He was eating, Talapia. Or, as he said, "an urbane way of saying catfish." He closed the top to his styrofoam box that contained the fish and said..."I'm going to go trade this in for a donut." I'm sure that line will come up again in my future conversations (at least with Juli) and I'll think of this very nice couple. They were there for a surgery their daughter was having. They had been married 70 years. In-credible. We offered to push the woman, who was in a wheelchair, back to the surgery floor. And they kept saying how nice we were to do that. I think (or I would hope) that anyone would have done the same for them. I never got their names, but said a prayer for them and their daugher. God bless them. 

Pre-operative clearance. Watched a horribly produced video that walked us through the day of the surgery. I knew most of it, but it was good to hear it all again, in chronological order, with visuals. Met a very upbeat nurse who, Juli observed, had hair the same color and length as our dog, Coco. She took a nasal swap to check for strep and, if I had it, would prescribe some nose gel to help fight it. But it wouldn't delay the surgery. Also gave me the pre-surgery rinse (to shower with) and some listerine to swish around the final two times I brush my teeth. They must have something against germs in their OR or something. 

Registration. Strangely enough, this was the last thing we did all day. And we waited. And waited for someone to call us back. After they finally did, we found out that I was already registered in their system (a guy had called me a couple of weeks back to get all the info). That's really the only gripe I have so far is the lack of connectivity between departments and between people. You'd think that a high-tech place like this would have their EMR (electronic medical records) so dialed in that their left hand would know what their right hand is doing. Apparently not. 

Dinner. Room service of a burger and some crab cakes. Very good. 

Kids. Juli and I both talked to all of them. Wesley needed some help with his science homework and I was able to assist telephonically. Gramma Holland was doing well. I got a phone call a little later from Sophia, in bed, who was crying because she missed us. I told her we missed her too and tried to make her feel better by looking ahead to the next few days...her fall party at school on Friday, Halloween, staying at Papa's house over the weekend, etc. I miss the kids a LOT, but of course need to keep things positive. It'll okay, honey, it'll only be a few days. We'll be home before you know it. (I can't believe I'm not going to see my kids for ten days!)