Hard to believe that five years ago today I was getting a new heart. They call it an open-heart surgery (OHS), but for all intents and purposes, it was really a rebuilding of my heart: a Bentall graft implanted in the place of my aortic valve, root, and ascending aorta; an aortic arch endarterectomy (repair), several endarterectomies of several main arteries in my heart, and four by-passes. My surgery is documented here: https://livingwithfh.blogspot.com/search?q=day+1+to+8 .
Just like every year on this date, I will
read the surgery report and just wow myself into stupor. How much can a body
take? Hours on the heart-lung machine, circulatory arrest flirting with the
limit allowed, heart attack following the surgery, neuropathy for years after
that, closed up by-passes years later, pump head that’s lasted now into my fifth
year … But also, how brave and certain and a little crazy can heart surgeons be
to have the courage and the firm hands to do it all?! The depth of human
knowledge and curiosity and bravery to push boundaries never cease to amaze me.
The surgery was still the hardest part of
this journey, I won’t lie to you. Just the thought of what the body went through,
the risks, the pain, the sheer demolition of every nerve I was ever made of.
Everyone told me right after surgery that my body got hit by a semi and I need
to take it easy, and that was not a joke. Like I said before; I felt like my body went to war. And it lost.
But also, the faith, the amazing knowledge
of the Utah Valley Regional Cardiac Surgery team were humbling and awe-inspiring,
to say the least.
The recovery, little by little, revealed
new surprises every year. Every day. I had to learn how to function with
neuropathy in my left hand and leg first, as well as how to breathe with
neuropathy in my diaphragm, when my lungs were not getting a full load of air. In
time, they all cleared up except for my pinkie and ring fingers – they are
still full of needles.
I had to learn how to exercise again, a
little bit at a time, after two bouts with Cardiac Rehab, a year and a little
bit apart. Like a vet that comes injured from war and has to learn how to walk
again, one small achievement at a time, I had to learn things and learn my new
body. I was amazed how much it felt like I did get a new body, when in fact
only the engine was replaced.
I had to learn new ways of monitoring my
health, like managing my INR – and how not to freak out every single time the
numbers are too high or two low … This, too, this scare and worry (because it’s
still here and it’s constant), must be your friend, because it’ll never leave
you … You just need to tell it some days: ah, well, we’ll try better tomorrow!
Just chill!
Same goes for not freaking out when you
accidentally cut off a piece of your cuticle while chopping veggies and then
you can’t stop the bleeding. You learn about the amazing power of coagulating
bandages that grow a scab for you when your body can’t.
You have to get used to new blood pressures
and pulses. New, more difficult ways to get an accurate echo of your heart or
even a good cath – because that Bentall graft is in the way. Catheters have a
hard time getting through it to look at the really small vessels and it casts a
shadow on your valve and heart and they’re never too sure what they see anymore
… Much trust.
All such memories now, but also all part of
the new me and new normal. You have no choice but embracing the new-ness. It is
the new you. It is the better you. I feel different today and in some ways I
feel like I exchanged old problems for new ones. But, believe it or not, the
new ones seem more manageable than the old ones. My aortic valve is not two
thirds shut anymore. My LAD is not 99% occluded anymore. My stamina for lengthy
exercise, albeit slow to moderate, is much better.
Some things are different but still there,
like the chest pain and the neck pain from the stenoses in my carotids. A
lifetime of echos, ultrasounds, and MRIs is still the norm.
Although I took things easily right after
surgery, little by little life became more normal: I started travelling, first
by car, then by plane. Within a couple of years I found the courage to fly to
Europe. I have been there twice since the surgery. I have been on two cruises
(before Covid, obviously) and several times to Canada. I also traveled across the
country by myself several times for work. It was, again, like learning baby
steps. But it is possible. I can tell you I am in touch with every sensation in
my body. If something is “off” I feel it right away. This has not stressed me
as it’s made me more curious to learn more.
I have also learned so much from other
patients. I have made friends during this journey that I would not have made
otherwise, people like me that share
freely, honestly, vulnerably their own journeys. Their stories make me so much
stronger and make me believe that there is so much strength in us. All I have
to do is learn courage from them and find it in me. We all have it. Of that I
am sure.
I have also become so much more grateful
for every good day. Every day when my tiredness is not too much, I am grateful.
I have become more grateful for my family. Every day that my husband does
something for me to help me through – I bless him and people like him, those
who truly have helped me through this, without whom I would not be here today. Of
that I am also sure.
For those out there contemplating whether
they should have OHS, I hope you find the strength to do it, and the
faith that it can improve your life. I also hope you find the strength in your
family and a great team of doctors to walk hand-in-hand with you through this
journey. All I know is: you are never alone. You are the main hero of your
destiny, of course, but there is a web of little helpers out there that will
carry you through. To all of those little elves, starting with my surgeon and
ending with my husband, my tireless caregiver – I owe them my life. And I
humbly thank them.
Happy journey to all and Happy Heart Month!
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