I knew it had been a while since I last posted, but I was shocked when I logged in. Nine months! Well, I have been doing other writing, but I have a major event coming up, so I wanted post something before then.
I have lived under the Sword of Damocles for quite a few years. Sometime after I was hit by a truck while overseeing traffic safety at Doe Creek Middle School, I went in to do a stress test for some chest pains. I could not complete the test due to the chest pain, so they conducted a scan and found an aortic aneurysm in my ascending aorta. A normal aorta is approximately 3cm wide. Mine was measured at 4.5cm.
I started seeing a cardiologist, who worked to keep my blood pressure down to stabilize the aneurysm. My cardiologist wanted to get me to age 60, as he thought any repair would have a time limit. A measurement of over 5cm would start the ball rolling.
An aortic aneurysm can be deadly. At any time, it could pop, and I would go lights out. Since then, I have done pretty well at keeping my BP down, even with the weight gains I experienced. Every 1-2 years, I would get a CT scan of my heart to check on the size. This past January, I went in for my CT scan. I got a call from my cardiologist, who informed me the aneurysm had ballooned to 5cm in the past year. I was scheduled to meet with a cardio-thoracic surgeon.
I went to the appointment thinking we would create a plan, and he would explain the surgical processes that would occur when the aneurysm got bigger. By the time the day was over, my surgery was scheduled, my pre-surgery testing was done, my pre-surgery blood work was drawn, and both of my carotid arteries were scanned via ultrasound.
The surgeon described the surgery like this: He will cut a hole in my breast bone to expose the heart. He will remove the ascending aorta and replace it with a thick, fabric one. Depending on what he sees during the surgery, he may have to replace the upper heart valve. I had the option of a mechanical valve, if needed, or an organic one made from cells from a cow’s heart. I chose organic, as the mechanical one would require blood thinners for the rest of my life. The organic one has a life of 50 years. I figured that would be long enough. Who knows, if I live long enough, medical science may have advanced enough to regenerate my heart! Realistically, I figured if I was still alive at 110 years old, I would be more than ready to sing in the Choir Invisible, to become an ex-parrot.
Today, I met with a pulmonologist. The same CT scan that showed the aneurysm’s growth also revealed the extent of the chest infection I had after a bout of the flu in January. He checked me out to ensure I was in good shape for the upcoming surgery. I’m good to go there. Tomorrow, I go in to have a left heart catheterization. This will kind of clear the deck for the upcoming surgery. Then, in two weeks, I will have my surgery.
The interesting part of meeting with the surgeon was discussing possible complications. Pneumonia, check. Infection, check. Stroke, umm, what now? Mortality…here, the surgeon paused, looking uncomfortable. He said, very seriously, that there’s a 1-2% chance of mortality from this surgery. I kinda went still. I’ve been through numerous surgeries, but this is the first time a surgeon got serious about mortality. Granted, they’re cutting into my chest and removing part of my heart, but still.
To put it into perspective, I can go to my Weather Channel app and check out the weather for the day. If I scroll down, I can find that the mosquito risk in my area in early March is low. So, like being bit by a mosquito in early March, my odds of mortality are low but never zero.
I have some anxiety about the upcoming surgery, but when it all comes down to it, I’m just having another surgery. I’ve had numerous surgeries, some major, some minor. I’m going to hurt. They will want me to get out of bed on the day of the surgery, and I am going to fight like hell to do it. The sooner I am up, the sooner I can go home. Up means I’m alive for another day. In bed is no bueno. I’ll do the breathing exercises, and follow all directions. Home is where I want to be. On the plus side, I’ve lost 15 pounds, so I’ve got that going for me, which is nice.
Meditations of a Bald, Fat Guy 