Yesterday was procedure day, or should I say one of the longer days of my life. My instructions were to arrive at 5:30 AM., meaning I had to get up at 4:30 AM. I've hardly had half a night's sleep at that point. Robin picked me up at 5:15. It was very quiet; a few misguided birds were singing; a few cars were on the road; someone was jogging and another person walking. Along with time I was given instructions about where to park, which elevator to take, then where to go. A nurse in the elevator didn't have to ask where we were going–knew everything. Who else gets there at that ungodly hour.
They took about 45 minutes to "prep" me, meaning asking lots of questions. Then I saw Robin, very briefly, as they rode me down a long corridor on a gurney. I felt very disoriented. They hadn't given me anything mind altering; it was just the size of the hospital and my inability to figure out where I was. That feeling remained with me until I left this morning when I was finally able to see what part of the hospital I was in.
The real prepping began after I got to the cath lab; also a bit disorienting. Dino, wearing what looked like hunting/camouflage clothing but was really lead padding to protect him from the x-rays they would take, talked to me, shaved my groin (good thing I no longer have any shame), told me when each part of the procedure would take place. They gave me some kind of sedative, although I was not asleep, nor was there any pain. I don't remember much; just lights going on and off. There were four monitors to the side of the table. Were they examining the x-rays? I don't know.
When I returned to the room I slept, most of the rest of the morning and afternoon. I knew they had found something and put in the stent. During the procedure they spoke about the balloon. That's used to put the stent in place. Sometime during the day I learned my left anterior descending branch (LAD) was 90% blocked. Whether that accounts for my tiredness remains to be seen.
I was awake most of the evening. About 8pm, I was blessed with a roommate who spent the entire night sleeping (as much as you can in a hospital) with the TV on and flickering. I slept in spite of it. I'm home now, feeling good. They don't want me to be alone tonight so Robin will pick me up and I'll stay there. Tomorrow I'm told I can do anything I want.
Glad to hear things went well, and that you’re out of that darn hospital – never a fun place to be, even in the best of circumstances. Thanks for the update.
….and now we are eagerly awaiting an update. I hope you are just feeling fine.
Personally, tho I know how much you hate all this, I’m so glad it was here for you to use. We are all going to be so please to have you and your world view with us a little longer. So pleased to that they were able to fix it so easily.
Hooray for modern science! Remember to take your recovery slowly, Wonder Woman!
Thanks, neill. I never liked the word hospital at all, let alone procedure. Never gave it much thought until recently. But sometimes its better than the alternative. Most of my relatives with similar problems didnt have these options. I guess Im grateful for modern medicine.
I think I was very lucky. They told me this one used to be done with open heart surgery, and we know all about that. I hope you are taking care of yourself. I think genetics has a lot to do with this. Love, Ruthe
Hi Ruthe, just catching up on some reading and saw your post. I’m glad your doing well. I hope everything turns out good! Sounds like it will. I suppose the stent is way better than the other procedures we all know and love.
Glad to hear you’re feeling better. The words procedure and hospital give me the willies.
Ruthe, I’m glad you survived the hospital. I hope the procedure does the trick and that you’re back to full energy soon.