Healing Heart

I’m required to take it easy this week. No lifting anything over five pounds. I’m really not supposed to be driving, but when you’ve got an automatic with power everything and cruise control, does that really count as driving? More like sitting in a moving chair. So, after one day of Sweetie driving me to work, I’m back behind the wheel.

Judith

 This is Judith. She was my pre and post procedure nurse and she was my guardian. She checked me in, chatted me up and made the guy in the slot next to me turn down his Fox News spew.  She was just a neat, neat lady. After my procedure, when I had to be flat on my back, and not even raise my head, she, along with just about every other nurse or CNA in the room, ran to my bed when the Vicodin won over the contents of my stomach. One of them held the barf bag, the rest of them clamped their hands over my groin and neck where the catheters had been to keep my veins from blowing. Judith took complete responsibility for me and when it was time, she personally pushed my gurney up to my room. And…when we got there she parked me in the hall to go check out the room, which did not meet with her approval. It had a weird smell she said, and called everyone in (except me – I was still flat on my back) to confirm. So, I got moved to what they called “The Presidential Suite.” They “hammocked” me into my bed and I bid Judith adieu.

Karen, my procedure nurse

This is Karen. She was the voice behind my head in the cath lab. She explained everything to me. She administered all my sedation, held wet sponges to my lips when I needed a “drink,” calmed me when the adrenalin drug I was given set my heart racing, my body trembling and made me cry. Awful stuff. She wiped my tears. She was the voice of my cardiologist to Sweetie and Ali, who waited anxiously for word.  Rather than leaving them to wonder, she came out with regular updates to tell them when my doctor had found the source of my problems, when he was beginning the ablations, and then one more time when things took a bit longer than usual. Lots of scarring in my heart made my cardiologist earn his keep.  Karen was my rock in the cath lab. She is strong, gentle and kind.

Post procedure: Sweetie and Ali stepped in and took care of me. As with my jaw surgery, they tag teamed it as both of them have their own way of taking care of me. Sweetie doesn’t do well with the medical parts of these things, so he’s my runner. I need anything, he gets it. Ali will tend wounds, rub feet and backs. They both hold me in their love.

And today …  Tammy, my co-worker, brought me her promised tamales and biscotti. She threw in chocolate chip cookies to boot. She wrote on the biscotti bag: “3BID-OG Rx: 3x daily for recovery.” On the chocolate chip cookies bag: “good 4 your heart.”  Dinner tonight was tamales with salsa and guacamole. Num. Dessert? Home-made cranberry and almond pistachio biscotti.

I hope this procedure has done what it was supposed to. Eight spots were ablated in my heart, and right now my heart is doing double duty of healing and beating.  I’m getting stronger every day.  While I am impressed with the technology (and believe me, the geek in me thought it was very, very cool to be able to see inside my own heart), and deeply grateful for the expert hands of the cath team, healing also comes from foot rubs, cracker runs, a firm voice, a kind touch, and, of course, tamales and biscotti.