It is Sunday July 7^th, day eleven post-op. While available, I’ve used only one hardcore pain reliever since coming home (oxycodone) and only use OTC pain relievers occasionally. That means exactly as it would infer, that the pain is minimal now – not gone, but sufficiently low-level so as to not require medication. Things like deep breathing or coughing hurt less and less every day. The graft harvest sites still hurt off and on, but are clearly healing. And overall, vital signs such as blood oxygen, pulse, blood pressure, weight, and temperature are all returning to desirable ranges. While still frequently interrupted, sleep is becoming more comfortable with rolling to one side or the other easier and less painful every night. Progress.

While the physical progresses, the mental is not following suit. I can be, at any given minute, frustrated, irked, content, depressed, and a wide spectrum of other emotions as well. I am so lucky that this was found and corrected before I damaged my heart, or even died. I know that. And the quality of my life will improve in the months and years ahead. It’s the in between that’s the hard part. While better, “things” are not back to normal; I tire easily sometimes, and do not have the strength I had the day before this all began. And that is a weight that hangs upon my mental state quite often.

And even what I can do, I can’t. I am physically well enough to get into my truck and drive it, but I am mot allowed to do so. Why? I am told there a several reasons. Just because I feel fine does not mean I am fine; my heart could still randomly do weird things at any given time, such as the sudden afib in the hospital. Should that happen while driving in traffic… not good.

Also physical damage to my surgical sites. The radial artery harvest site in my arm could still rip through the glue and open up, as could my chest incision. But beyond those is the primary reason I cannot drive, the sternum itself. Split or cut in two for chest access, my breastbone is held together with wires, and it takes 6-8 weeks for that bone to fully repair itself. Should an airbag deploy in the vehicle and strike my chest, it would not only concuss my heart, it would likely tear my wired sternum apart. So, no driving.

Yes – I can order pretty much anything online and have it delivered. Amazon, Walmart, Doordash, etc. all make getting most everything you need dropped at your door a simple task. I was even able to order wine and have it delivered for my wife online. But it is oppressive and feels like the COVID quarantine all over again, except that others are allowed to come see me (which is great of course). But it so confining and claustrophobic.

There are a thousand things I do around the house and yard daily without even much thought, a huge number of which I am not permitted to do. Mow the lawn, weed whack, pick up sticks and debris, or pick up anything that weighs more than a gallon of milk. Even my fondest activity – walking – is limited. I have to “build up” my walks, adding a little more distance over periods of time. I know, without doubt, that I am not capable of walking for long period of time or any really long distance, but I would love to be allowed to go as far as I feel comfortable in doing.

I would bet that at one time or another we all have joked about the fact the medicine is called a “practice” for a reason! And it is; there is no absolute because we are all different. But post-surgical “rules” are based and set upon statistical averages for any and all sorts of people. I need a doctor that knows me and can “adapt” the rules to specifically me.

For example, in the hospital I had to wear my super silky sexy white thigh high compression stockings on both legs, and that requirement was passed along at discharge, except that I could take them off when I sleep. When I went to see my GP and asked about how long I need to wear them, she scoffed and said I didn’t need them at all – they are for non-ambulatory patients, not mobile people like me. But then she looked at the left leg where they harvested the graft vein and decided that since there was some swelling in the leg, I should continue to wear that one stocking. So I am now doing  a poor impression of Angel Reese!

The visiting nurse had chided me for walking too much on her last visit; it was two thousand steps, or a mile. She told me that was too much and to cut it way back. But when I told my GP she said that was good and to continue doing it and to slowly increase it.  The nurse had stated that I should not really be walking outside, but if I did, never alone. My GP chuckled at that and said walking alone outside was fine, as long as it was in the yard and not out on the street.

I want to water my lawn, cut my grass, trim back the invading forest where needed, to take my trash to the dump, to go select and choose my groceries in the store and bring them home. I know all this will return soon enough, but I am the impatient patient.

As I always do, I began this post, decided it needed more so rather that publish it, I save it to add to it later. Later turns out to be now – July 11. Yesterday marked two weeks post-surgery and, like every other day, was uneventful. Not driving and not being able to almost anything turns one’s life into Groundhog Day; same thing day after day. I am slowly watching July disappear one day at a time. And July is one of my favorite months, making it all the more depressing.

Don’t get me wrong – this is far more preferable than the alternative! Rest and relaxation versus a probably fatal heart attack? I’ll take the R&R please! That aside, sitting around day after day is sort of frustrating. I walk, but am told to “limit” my walks and to “take it slowly”. I get it, but would love to be permitted to just walk until I am ready to stop. But they know more than I do in the field of cardiac health and recovery, so….

There are so many little things too. Aa an example – my watch. It belongs on my left wrist but due to the artery harvest and resulting wound, I cannot wear it there. Instead it is on my right wrist, which works, but awkwardly. Of course, happily I feel a little bit better every day. But sometimes, feeling better but still being held to the same restrictions and limitations only serves to make you feel worse.

Sleep is improving as pain as receding. I am now able to sleep on either side without any real pain, which is a welcome improvement. However, I wake up to pee a LOT, some nights it has been every hour. What they tell me is that between the heart-lung machine, the anesthesia, the countless bags of IV fluids, and some other factors your body tissue becomes infused and even swollen with fluid. And it takes weeks for all those fluids to “seep” out of tissue and into the right systems to dispose of them and to get all that out.

I am still acutely aware that my chest was split open and rather aggressively messed with. My pain is not bad, but almost always there. Same with the arm and leg harvest sites – sore but manageable. It seems that we‘ve now gotten pulse and BP solidly back into the desirable ranges, although the pulse still tends to be a bit overreactive at times. It runs in the 60-70pbm range now, far better than the 80-90 post-surgery, but not as good as the 45-55 range before all this began. I have a hunch it will continue to settle down and get lower.

I still do not have a cardiologist, but hopefully will hear something by next week. I had no idea they were so overbooked with patients but it is proving quite difficult to get in so far. I did find a garbage service to pick up my trash – that begins next Tuesday. I am currently uncertain if I will retain them once I can drive again or not. I believe I also have someone lined up to cut the lawn – should know for sure this weekend. But in this case, I am certain that I will not retain the service once I am cleared to use my mower; I enjoy cutting my grass and I miss it, so I am anxious to be able to get back at it.

Frustrated, aggravated, depressed… a ton of unpleasant emotions sneak into me from time to time. I researched long and hard and fully understood what to expect on the other side of surgery. And I fully know how lucky I am that we found my issues the “easy” way. Yet joy is oft in scarce supply with me. I always challenge myself and I always expect more of myself and therefore I am a wee bit disappointed in my recovery. When things ache or hurt, when I get tired, or when I have any negative issues I immediately get down on myself and get upset. I want to be the star patient, the one with the amazing recovery. Even more so because I took great pride in my fitness and level of conditioning (for a 68-year-old anyway) and this was like a giant needle violently popping that balloon. So to compensate, I guess I want to have an incredibly quick recovery. Hubris – who needs it?

I just found out that my son and family are coming down next weekend and am I ever excited! I can’t do much of anything to entertain them but it will sure be exciting to have them here. And one of their days here will be my daughter’s oldest 3^rd birthday so everyone will here for that, and that is awesome as we could not pull that off last year.

I try not to even dwell for a second on what I have put my family through over the last four weeks; it immediately evokes great sorrow and pain for me. I am here to care for them, to shelter them, to always be there. And for this, I was not; rather, they were here for me. But the worry, anguish, and fear I brough them weighs on me daily. Never mind the endless inconveniences of driving back and forth to the first hospital, then the other hospital in Boston, having to get a hotel, driving me home, picking up prescriptions, cooking food for me, and a thousand more things – all with a smile. I owe them all, so very much.

I keep going back to having my heart stopped for all that time, over two hours, and then having it restarted and resuming its critical function so easily. What they do is so incredible and mind boggling it almost defies logic. I have to believe that the methods for this surgery will evolve over the coming years into a far less invasive procedure. There are actually techniques used now that do not require stopping the heart, as well as the use of robotics, but the application is still quite limited.

I am going to wrap this up and get it posted today. I will first add though, that I had the best night’s sleep in over four weeks last night. I awoke once around 4AM, and was back soon after – at least 7 hours of essentially uninterrupted sleep. What a wonderful gift! I hope this marks a significant turning the corner in this recovery; not that it’s been bad, but I sure am anxious to return to whatever semblance of normalcy I can muster in my life! In the meantime I sit here and watch the month of July go past me one day at a time. Hoping you are out and about and are enjoying your summer dear reader – stay well!!