6 weeks and I've got wheels again!
Funny that driving should be a big deal. But it is.
When I was discharged they told me "No driving for 6 weeks! Because of insurance." I accepted that. Guess it made sense. I was through a pretty serious surgery and I was still feeling the effects of the anesthetic and was full of various medications (all prescribed).
Seemed fair enough to think I might pose an increased risk on the roads. Perhaps my incision would leak and I'd be distracted by blood on my chest and not see that stop sign. Perhaps I'd lapse into a Beta blocker induced swoon and fade into the next lane only to side-swipe an on-coming car. Perhaps my blood pressure would go through the roof from road rage the first time I encountered some idiot who cut me off without signalling and I'd burst my by-pass. Who knows what carnage I might cause if I was behind the wheel in any of these scenarios.
So I have been good for the past six weeks and I've honoured the insurance industry's risk assessments.
But today is six weeks. I drove!! Still remembered the rules of the road and how to shift gears. Got M to school and myself to my second cardiac rehab session. Nothing to it.
Funny though how much more independence I feel now that I'm on the road again. Years ago we lived without a car for a long time and it was no big deal. It was occasionally inconvenient but we didn't really miss it. We walked a lot and were probably more healthy for it. But now we're more suburban and the places we need to go are farther away. And time is often short. It sure is good to have wheels.
Six weeks without driving though makes me think I could cut back some. I'd save a bit of gas, spew a bit less carbon dioxide, and get a bit more heart-healthy exercise. Those would all be good things.
Incidentally, did you know that space shuttle and space station astronauts are also prohibited from driving for six weeks after they return to earth? Imagine that. They can fly the space shuttle to a landing but they can't drive their car home afterwards. I like having something in common with astronauts, though.
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Sunday, September 5, 2010
Body Works
and another trip to Calgary
Only this time it wasn't for my body ... it was to see the Body Works exhibition at the Telus World of Science. Here's the link to Body Works in Calgary. (Hope the link still works after the exhibition closes. Here's a link to the main Bodyworlds site if not.)
Though this exhibit focused on the Brain, there was plenty of other information on the skeletal system, the nervous system, and the cardio-vascular system. I am even more amazed at what they did to me now.
The heart muscle is surprisingly small. About the size of a loosely clenched fist. For some reason I was imagining something a bit bigger, say, two hands worth. And it squirts blood throughout the body some 2 billion 943 million 360 thousand times during a lifetime (2,943,360,000 ... say, an average of 70 pumps per minute times 60 minutes per hour times 24 hours per day times 365 days per year times, lets be generous, 80 years.)! Wow!
Even more amazing to me is that the surgeon went inside that little muscle of mine and repaired one of the valves, something that opens only about as much as the diameter of my thumb at the first knuckle. Now that's some fine needle work!
For the exhibition, donated bodies are prepared by exchanging all of the water in the tissues for a synthetic polymer. The polymer, which hardens to about the same density and weight as the water it replaces, then essentially 'plasticizes' the tissues and preserves them. Body worlds is noted for artfully presenting the results by posing the figures in life-like actions that reveal the interior workings of the body.
Dramatic stuff.
The exhibition also displayed other plastinated body parts so that, though brain stuff dominated here, it wasn't the only thing to see.
I was, of course, drawn to displays which showed the heart.
And there it was. A heart which had suffered a heart attack. You could see where some of the heart muscle was damaged. Another was shown in cross section which revealed that an artificial mitral valve had been installed. Amazing to see the little flapper-valve in place. And to think that might have been my heart if Dr. M. hadn't been able to repair mine.
I was surprised at the number of little fibers inside the left ventricle. Those are the cordae tendinae that hold the loose ends of the mitral valve and connect it to the interior of the heart muscle walls. There were a lot more of those little fibers than I had expected. They looked almost like the stringy bits you pull out the inside of a pumpkin when you carve it up for Halloween.
I wonder what my heart looks like? Not that I'm ready to have it plastinated just yet. I hope there are still another billion or so squeezes left in the old pump.
Only this time it wasn't for my body ... it was to see the Body Works exhibition at the Telus World of Science. Here's the link to Body Works in Calgary. (Hope the link still works after the exhibition closes. Here's a link to the main Bodyworlds site if not.)
Though this exhibit focused on the Brain, there was plenty of other information on the skeletal system, the nervous system, and the cardio-vascular system. I am even more amazed at what they did to me now.
The heart muscle is surprisingly small. About the size of a loosely clenched fist. For some reason I was imagining something a bit bigger, say, two hands worth. And it squirts blood throughout the body some 2 billion 943 million 360 thousand times during a lifetime (2,943,360,000 ... say, an average of 70 pumps per minute times 60 minutes per hour times 24 hours per day times 365 days per year times, lets be generous, 80 years.)! Wow!
Even more amazing to me is that the surgeon went inside that little muscle of mine and repaired one of the valves, something that opens only about as much as the diameter of my thumb at the first knuckle. Now that's some fine needle work!
For the exhibition, donated bodies are prepared by exchanging all of the water in the tissues for a synthetic polymer. The polymer, which hardens to about the same density and weight as the water it replaces, then essentially 'plasticizes' the tissues and preserves them. Body worlds is noted for artfully presenting the results by posing the figures in life-like actions that reveal the interior workings of the body.
The exhibition also displayed other plastinated body parts so that, though brain stuff dominated here, it wasn't the only thing to see.
I was, of course, drawn to displays which showed the heart.
And there it was. A heart which had suffered a heart attack. You could see where some of the heart muscle was damaged. Another was shown in cross section which revealed that an artificial mitral valve had been installed. Amazing to see the little flapper-valve in place. And to think that might have been my heart if Dr. M. hadn't been able to repair mine.
I was surprised at the number of little fibers inside the left ventricle. Those are the cordae tendinae that hold the loose ends of the mitral valve and connect it to the interior of the heart muscle walls. There were a lot more of those little fibers than I had expected. They looked almost like the stringy bits you pull out the inside of a pumpkin when you carve it up for Halloween.
I wonder what my heart looks like? Not that I'm ready to have it plastinated just yet. I hope there are still another billion or so squeezes left in the old pump.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
I'm in Rehab!
Cardiac Rehab, that is
Had my first rehab session today. And, no, it is not a 12 step program. It's for folks who have had some sort of cardiac intervention. And, no, it isn't about getting us to go through some other kind of 'intervention' of the psychological type.
I thought for sure I'd be the youngest one there. But, no. I was probably right in the middle. The oldest was 88 and the youngest 49. Six men and 2 women.
I was the only one who had not had a heart attack. Turns out that for all of them, it was a complete surprise. My surgery, of course, wasn't a surprise given that I'd known about the problem 6 months before it was fixed. But for all of them it was something out of the blue. One day they were feeling good, healthy, normal, and fit as a fiddle ... the next, they were in the hospital, on medications, being anesthetized, and having blocked heart arteries fixed with stents.
All of them spoke about denial; they didn't believe it was happening to them. They thought the hospital had it wrong and they weren't the ones who needed to go to Calgary. All talked about having a variety of symptoms that were strange but that they thought were not related to the heart. Sore, numb, achey arms; sore backs; aching jaws; nausea; pressure in the chest. No one felt at the time, ah ha, this is it, I'm having a heart attack. Most of them lived with the vague symptoms for a day or two before they went to emergency. Only one took an ambulance ride.
So most of the class was about how the heart works, what a heart attack is, what the cardiac team did in response, and how medications (and we were all pretty much on the same ones) help the heart to recover and to prevent things from getting worse. I guess I was fortunate in that I'd learned about my problem from doctors and my own research well before I ended up in the operating room. For these folks, though, it all happened so quickly that perhaps this was their first opportunity to learn more about what they'd been through.
Why would it make sense to provide this information after the fact? They'd already had a heart attack; why learn about heart attacks? A friend of mine (who'd been through the experience years ago) was told that about 50% of patients who have blocked heart arteries repaired end up back in the cardiac unit later needing to be repaired again. They don't make the lifestyle changes needed to keep their arteries clean. They don't stop smoking, they don't change their diets, they don't exercise, they don't keep their weight down, they don't manage their stress. So, I guess if education can help keep 75% or 90% from a return trip for further repair, then it would be good - big savings to the health care system and more healthy people.
We all should know the risks for heart disease: smoking, being over-weight, high fat and high salt foods, lack of exercise, too much stress. But we also don't believe that these things will affect us. We maybe smoke a bit (or a lot), we let our weight go, we indulge in those high fat meals and desserts, we are too tired or it's too hot or too cold for exercise, and we let our busy lives rule. And nothing happens. We get away with it. Until, BAM, there are those vague symptoms and we end up in the hospital with a heart attack. Or dead.
We in this class are the lucky ones, I guess.
The moral of the story: don't smoke, keep the weight down, eat heart healthy food, avoid fat and salt like the plague, exercise, and relax. Otherwise you may end up in the morgue too soon. Or you'll be lucky, like me and my rehab classmates, but with a scar on your chest and an insiders view of the cardiac health-care system.
Had my first rehab session today. And, no, it is not a 12 step program. It's for folks who have had some sort of cardiac intervention. And, no, it isn't about getting us to go through some other kind of 'intervention' of the psychological type.
I thought for sure I'd be the youngest one there. But, no. I was probably right in the middle. The oldest was 88 and the youngest 49. Six men and 2 women.
I was the only one who had not had a heart attack. Turns out that for all of them, it was a complete surprise. My surgery, of course, wasn't a surprise given that I'd known about the problem 6 months before it was fixed. But for all of them it was something out of the blue. One day they were feeling good, healthy, normal, and fit as a fiddle ... the next, they were in the hospital, on medications, being anesthetized, and having blocked heart arteries fixed with stents.
All of them spoke about denial; they didn't believe it was happening to them. They thought the hospital had it wrong and they weren't the ones who needed to go to Calgary. All talked about having a variety of symptoms that were strange but that they thought were not related to the heart. Sore, numb, achey arms; sore backs; aching jaws; nausea; pressure in the chest. No one felt at the time, ah ha, this is it, I'm having a heart attack. Most of them lived with the vague symptoms for a day or two before they went to emergency. Only one took an ambulance ride.
So most of the class was about how the heart works, what a heart attack is, what the cardiac team did in response, and how medications (and we were all pretty much on the same ones) help the heart to recover and to prevent things from getting worse. I guess I was fortunate in that I'd learned about my problem from doctors and my own research well before I ended up in the operating room. For these folks, though, it all happened so quickly that perhaps this was their first opportunity to learn more about what they'd been through.
Why would it make sense to provide this information after the fact? They'd already had a heart attack; why learn about heart attacks? A friend of mine (who'd been through the experience years ago) was told that about 50% of patients who have blocked heart arteries repaired end up back in the cardiac unit later needing to be repaired again. They don't make the lifestyle changes needed to keep their arteries clean. They don't stop smoking, they don't change their diets, they don't exercise, they don't keep their weight down, they don't manage their stress. So, I guess if education can help keep 75% or 90% from a return trip for further repair, then it would be good - big savings to the health care system and more healthy people.
We all should know the risks for heart disease: smoking, being over-weight, high fat and high salt foods, lack of exercise, too much stress. But we also don't believe that these things will affect us. We maybe smoke a bit (or a lot), we let our weight go, we indulge in those high fat meals and desserts, we are too tired or it's too hot or too cold for exercise, and we let our busy lives rule. And nothing happens. We get away with it. Until, BAM, there are those vague symptoms and we end up in the hospital with a heart attack. Or dead.
We in this class are the lucky ones, I guess.
The moral of the story: don't smoke, keep the weight down, eat heart healthy food, avoid fat and salt like the plague, exercise, and relax. Otherwise you may end up in the morgue too soon. Or you'll be lucky, like me and my rehab classmates, but with a scar on your chest and an insiders view of the cardiac health-care system.
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