Paradise Found

I think I may just have found paradise in the States... Key West is absolutely gorgeous! Obviously, sitting at my computer is not on my short list, so I'll post more about our trip once I've slowed down.

Just a random couple kissing at sunrise

Miami coming alive at midnight

South Miami Beach

Adios for now, amigos!

xoxoxo

See You In ICU

...and we're off!

No one tells you how much heart surgery is going to hurt. Of course, it's just a no-brainer that this particular surgery will carry with it a certain amount of discomfort. But those who have been there and done that are careful not to divulge any info that is not absolutely necessary. I remember my pre-op visit with the surgeon and how he seemed so stern, arrogant and so matter-of-fact about it all. The only thing I wanted was to be kept knocked out through the worst of it and made sure he knew it. However, once I told him my feelings on that, his response made me want to knock HIM out... "This surgery isn't for panty-wastes!" and he was not kidding when he said it!

"Once you get out of ICU, you will be getting up several times a day and walking the halls." he continued.

He left me with nothing more to say. It was then that I knew things were about to get ugly, especially when he informed me that I could take nothing to calm the nerves on the morning of the surgery! Apparently, I needed to be coherent in order for the anesthesiologist to ask me some questions. What kind of questions at a time like this??? They have all my info... what more could they possibly want?

"Would you like decaf anesthesia or regular?"

"Would you mind giving me your arm? We're going to strap you down now."

"You do have a Living Will on file, right?"

"We'll be stopping your heart half-way through, but we shouldn't have any problems getting it going again if we've done our job correctly."

He had to be kidding, right?! I had to drive for a little over an hour to get to this particular hospital for Open Heart Surgery and I can't have even a small sedative?! Well, how 'bout a hammer to the head, then? This did not set well with me, but what could I do? How much worse could it get?! My only thought at the time was, "What happens to ME if something happens to YOU?" Of course, you know the whole O.R. would run to the doctor on the floor to make sure he's alright, but what about the patient? I've always wondered that. Thankfully, that's never happened and, hopefully, I will never have to find out!

A few days later, I had to go in for the usual pre-admit routine when they took me to a room, sat me down in front of a monitor and explained that I would have to watch a video, further explaining what I was about to go through. I cannot even begin to tell you how very much I wanted to just close my eyes and die right there and then. No pain. No drama. Just close my eyes and never wake up again, this side of Heaven. Obviously, that didn't happen so there must be a reason for this wondrously, wonderful journey I'm on... although, looking back, it's not been one I'd recommend for anyone! But it is what it is.

First of all, no one tells you that once out of surgery you have a tube down your throat that helps you breathe. After it's determined your lungs are good to go, they remove this tube, which, thankfully, I only vaguely remember. First hurdle cleared.

Next, are the four a.m. visits, while in ICU, from the two ladies with the big, portable x-ray machine. Their job is to sit you up, put the painfully cold plate on your bare back and take a quick picture to keep tabs on your progress. This routine happens every morning while in ICU! I just remember the feeling of dread when I heard them coming! The discomfort in getting you positioned and that cold plate on your bare back is one thing. Why, oh why... someone please tell me, do they have to come at 4 every morning???

For me, sleeping on my side is just how I sleep most comfortably. However, due to the three drainage tubes in my chest, it was next to impossible to get me on my side in a comfortable position. I finally resigned myself to the fact that this was not going to be happening until the tubes came out. I'll get to the part where they remove the drain tubes in a minute...

Two things you absolutely do not want to do are: Throw up. Even with a bout of bad nausea, I fought it with everything in me, determined not to give in and I am proud to say that I never got sick. The other? Sneezing. I cannot even begin to tell you how many times I prayed that I would not have to sneeze during recovery... or ever again, for that matter. I just couldn't imagine the pain that might be associated with this forceful bodily function!! How much damage could it do, or would it do? Thankfully, I was able to hold off sneezing for about eight months, but once I did, I could not stop! I finally felt the freedom to just cut loose and do it... and do it I did. Out came about 12 sneezes in a row. These were by no means lady-like sneezes, either. When I sneeze, everyone knows it and had better be prepared! (My children usually head off into another direction if they suspect there might be a sneeze coming on, especially if we're in public)!

Once it was determined I had progressed enough to move on up to a regular room, the drainage tubes had to be removed from my lungs. What can I say about this? I had heard from a relative who had recently had this same surgery that this was just about the worst thing imaginable. So... that's pretty much all I could think about and am not too proud to admit that this one nearly did me in. Well, not the actual extraction, just the thought of it all.

It was the morning I was to be moved and one of my doctors had come to visit. Anytime this one doctor in particular came, he was followed by a young, perky, gorgeous intern who was his assistant. I can't remember her name, but I do remember the way she smelled. I wanted to smell like her. I wanted to look like her. I wanted her upbeat attitude and energy. Alright, I wanted to BE her!

It was on this particular morning that this doctor had decided it was time for me to graduate up to the fifth floor. A regular room. This was happy news for us all, except for the fact that these tubes were still attached and needed to be removed. Beforehand, I made sure the nurses knew I wanted Morphine. When I made that request, I remember their puzzled response,"You want MORPHINE for this?" Shrugging it off, they went to get my meds and I was a happy camper.

Once I was 'morphed', they could have cut off my leg and I wouldn't have cared. Finally, the time came for 'IT'. Turns out the doctor's assistant was the one doing the procedure. All I will say about this part of the recovery process is that I'm very happy to report I made it through without incident. Truthfully, the actual removal wasn't nearly as bad as I had already determined it to be in my head. Isn't that always the case, though? (And, no, I didn't really need the Morphine as I had previously thought)!

All in all, my time spent in the Cardiovascular Intensive Care Unit, or what I can recall from it, wasn't that bad. I had excellent care from each nursing shift and the other patients were relatively quiet... must have been the Morphine.

Next time, I'll be reporting in from the air on my way to Key West! Pray, people, pray!

xoxoxo

P-A-T-I-E-N-C-E

Ssshhh! Don't say that word out loud. Seems like every time someone prays for it, something drastic happens. Some say women tend to get pregnant, but in my case, I gave birth to full term heart disease, which manifested by way of a heart attack.

I can remember praying one day that my life would matter and I could make some kind of difference some way, some how and the next day, waking up in the Critical Care Unit of our local hospital! Wha??? This is not what I prayed for... was it?

None of it makes sense. Still, to this day, none of it makes sense. The symptoms leading up to the actual episode NOW make sense... the tightness in my chest, the sore throat, the shortness of breath, the pain in my upper back. In fact, I pretty much always knew something wasn't quite right, but all of the tests done kept coming back with normal results. I think this is what was most frustrating for me (along with a few certain others) at the time. I know there are those who thought I had gone off the deep end or needed 'special' attention, making it all about me, etc. Looking back, it had gotten to the point of being a very desperate, lonely time for me. I guess you could say it was during this time and since then that I have learned to truly treasure friendships.

All that aside, this entire journey has been eye-opening for me, to say the least. Surprisingly, the one emotion that has raised it's ugly head over and over is anger. I'm angry, still. Maybe not to the same degree as in the beginning, but it's there none the less. What can I say? I'm human. My body turned on me. It let me down. I had stuff to do and then this happened. This introduction into that new normal that is so often talked about was not in the plan.

If I've heard it once, I've heard it a million times: "God will do whatever it takes to get your attention!" I believe I may have even said it a time or two, myself. Well, if that's the case, He's got it!!! But, what's the message?

You have my attention, God, now what?

You want me to what?!?!?

WAIT?!?!?

But, but, but... You know I have issues with this waiting thing. I'm not one to do waiting well, not that You didn't already know that.

That pretty much describes how my life and relationship with God has been over this last year. Hurry up and wait.

This one thing I can say out loud: I don't mind the waiting, now. It's in the waiting that I've found so much more than I could have ever imagined. Things. Deep things about myself and my God. Going through all of this was just the beginning of many changes in my life. Changes I knew needed to be made for quite some time, however, now everything seems to be falling into place. And when it doesn't? I know it's time to hurry up and wait some more.

I can't say that fretting isn't a thing of the past or that I don't ever start to feel my blood pressure rise if I begin to get hit from all sides with the issues of life, but I can say that those things just don't matter quite as much as before. It's all in the timing. His timing.

As I continue to count down the days until I board that plane to Key West, the things left undone want to flood my mind, bringing with it all the worry and frustration. However, I know that my God has it all under control and wants me to remember those much needed changes and what is required to see them come to pass. My reward comes the day I step off that plane and onto the sandy beaches of Florida and I can hardly stand the... ummm. Never mind.




Remember: Be careful what you pray for. You just might get it!



xoxoxo

Laughter Is The Best Medicine

I've spent the better part of the morning writing. However, after reading back what I wrote, it was just too heavy and wasn't really going anywhere. It left even me depressed and discouraged. Who wants to feel like that? Instead, I have decided to keep it short and to the point... change it up, if you will.

Laugh. You just have to cut loose and laugh sometimes. Laugh until you can't breathe and you think you're going to die. I never really did this until after almost dying. It feels good and I love it.

The following email attachment made me laugh like that this morning...

Beautiful bride, doing what beautiful brides do as part of the wedding tradition. All the single ladies... isn't that a song? Anyway, scanning the excited group of young ladies that have gathered in hopes of being the one to catch the bouquet, signifying she will be the next in line to marry...

...we find my daughter. She's the one with her mouth wide open and arms outstretched, making a beeline for the bouquet.

There was one more picture, but I'll spare those of you with weak stomachs. Sadly, she did not end up getting the bouquet after all that.

Thank you for being such a good sport, my girl! I think I'll go order you some flowers now.

xoxoxo

Heart Health 101

Seeing as how I am a spokesperson for the American Heart Association, I so wish I could sit here and start listing off all the details of Heart Disease, it's effects and causes. I know that I should be more knowledgeable in this area, however, even though I deal with it on a daily basis, I know nothing short of:

1. If you smoke... STOP IT!
2. If you're not eating right... START IT!
3. If you don't exercise... MOVE IT!
4. If you're overweight... LOSE IT!

That pretty much sums up my total knowledge of Heart Disease. Oh, and that it can and does kill. Daily. It's a sneaky little disease with big consequences if not dealt with promptly and appropriately. This has all been brought to my attention due to the fact that I managed to get hold of my medical records from the past year for research purposes. Did you know they charge per page copied? This was no small feat (or small amount), especially for the ladies doing all the copying. It took them half a day to get it all together. When I saw the stack, I was overwhelmed... see image below.




Keep in mind that these records are from hospital visits only. I dread the thought of having to go through all this again with each individual doctor's office, as the stacks are sure to be much bigger in size as well as cost!

Once home with my new project, I began to read, read and read some more, which I quickly realized might possibly be a mistake. Why? There are times when it all becomes too much. My coping skills waiver from day to day. I want to know the details, but then I don't. I do, but I don't. I can handle it, but I can't. When you've come face to face with death, it tends to make one rethink life. Also, on a more interesting note in regard to near-death experiences, is that the younger the patient, the harder it is for that person to accept. Knowing what I now know, my heart goes out to children and teenagers who have walked this difficult road.

The fact of the matter is... if we don't make lifestyle changes for the better, our bodies will suffer a breakdown in one area or another. I was one of those blessed enough to get a second chance at life and to say that I'm thankful for that is the understatement of a lifetime! I am happy to be here, sharing my story. I've learned to enjoy my family like never before. I no longer take for granted those 'little' joys and I've also learned to just cut loose and laugh like there's no tomorrow.

I look forward to being in the room, photographing and watching the birth of my fifth grand baby in a few weeks since I missed the last one due to my recovering from Bypass Surgery in another hospital in another town. Thankfully, technology is such that I was able to see the baby right after she was born via the Internet! Also, I cannot fail to mention the upcoming trip to the Florida Keys... 20 days and counting! Unfortunately, it's taken this tragedy-turned-triumph in my life to make me realize it's time get out there and live the abundant life I've been promised!

I am thankful for so many things in and about my life. The people, the places, the wonderful doctors and nurses I have met and that have cared for me throughout this journey... I could go on and on. However, there is one group of people that I just have to bring to the forefront and commend them on their part, whether they know it or not, in my recovery. My Cardiac Rehab family. Not only the staff who showed such compassion during a very trying time, but the other Rehab patients themselves. I can't begin to name them all since our time together was sporadic, but it's as if God Himself sent each one of those precious souls to encourage and uplift me in my journey back to living. Albeit, most all of my Rehab buddies were at least 20 years my senior, they certainly had no problem running circles around me!

In preparing to take this upcoming trip to Florida, I couldn't help but be encouraged by a gentleman who had just returned from an anniversary trip with his wife to New Zealand. I had the opportunity to visit with him and was pleasantly surprised by his candor, telling of his apprehension and outright fears while traveling so far from home. These people are amazing and I'm in complete awe of their strength. Unfortunately, until more of us are made aware of this disease and it's awful effects, the Cardiac Rehab Units in our local hospitals will always be full of new, scared and desperate faces.

I guess this is where I'm supposed to say that if everything I've gone through and using this forum as an opportunity to make just one person aware of the risks, it's all been worth it. So, with that said... know the risks, signs and symptoms of Heart Attack or Stroke. Once it's happened, there is no going back. Your life is forever changed. How you deal and what you choose to do with it is up to you. Please don't be of the mindset that you have plenty of time to start making those changes, as I was. According to my doctor, two more hours and I would not have survived the ongoing damage. Decide that today is going to be 'the day' and then determine in your mind that these changes are worth it. If my words today aren't enough to change your mind, then just take a look into the eyes of your loved ones and do it for them. You'll be so glad you did... and so will they!

xoxoxo

Tough Stuff

Blogging is hard. It's tough in a way I never imagined. A big part of me loves to write and always has. The other part of me wants to keep my private life and thoughts private. So, why do I write? I guess the writer in me wins out. The other tough thing about blogging is wondering how much to share about my private life and thoughts. Where do I draw the line? I guess I'll find out if all my family and friends suddenly stop talking to me. *Side note: It is certainly not my intention to divulge any information to which I'm privvy, nor is it my intention to offend anyone, purposely. With that being said... let the blogging begin!

"The Heart Speaks" is mostly geared toward the heart issues I faced last year, the struggles of getting through a traumatic time, healing physically as well as emotionally and where I'm at now. However, I am still a wife, mother, grandmother (lovingly referred to as 'Nanny' or 'Nan'), daughter and friend. My family is amazingly supportive and has remained so throughout all of it. I will be blogging about their greatness from time to time, also.

Why we go through what we go through, only God knows. What I do know and try to remember is a little something a friend once told me that had such impact and meaning I just have to share: "It's not what you go through... it's how you go through it."

It's not what you go through... that tells me that if you're living this life, you will face a challenge or two from time to time.

It's how you go through it... that part tells me we have a choice when faced with such challenges. We can either shrink back and give up or we can fight the good fight and let God carry us through.

To be quite honest, I do hope and pray I have fought the good fight for the most part, but I know, in reality, there have been times I wanted to give up. Having been poked, prodded, stuck and every other unimagineable thing you can imagine, it does have a tendency to make one grow very weary after a while. Never knowing if that chest pain is 'normal' chest pain or something that should get checked out. By the way, the doctors have since told me that I would eventually learn to distinguish between the two. Hopefully, I've accomplished that by now... I guess we'll know if I ever get it wrong.

Then there are the emotions. Oh, those emotions. For the most part, I do well handling 'those' feelings. However, I'm not too proud or pretend to be tough enough to say it doesn't affect me greatly when I hear of someone losing a loved one to something I've gone through. That thing they call 'Survivor's Guilt' is very real. Would someone please enlighten me on the appropriate response to news like that?

This brings me to another point: Implants. No, not those kind of implants and no, I'm not going out on a random limb here. I'm talking about an ICD Implant or as it's otherwise known, Implantable Cardioverter Defibrillator, which is what I have implanted into my upper chest at the suggestion of my highly skilled and knowledgable Cardiologist. Why do I need this? According to 'Dr. Wonderful', patients like me (having a 'string' of PVC's) are more prone to sudden death. Lovely.

If news like this isn't enough to make you realize it's time to get out and live, I don't know what will! Hence, the trip to Florida in 28 days! More about that next time...

Of all the procedures having had done, I'm beginning to wonder if the ICD was really worth it. First of all, I knew it was going to be questionable when I woke up during the surgery in which they were installing my new part... not once, but twice! Yes, it is possible to wake up DURING surgery. By the time they were done, they had ended up giving me three times the normal amount of anesthesia as they would give anyone else. I was loopy for days after.

Another reason I'm questioning is because it never fails... whenever someone hears about this little extra part I'm carrying around, they feel the need to tell me all the horrid details of 'someone they know' that had one and then proceed to give me a play by play on how this person's ICD 'went off' and, well... the rest is not pretty. This recently happened to me during an upper GI test when the Radiologist was looking over and pointing out all my innermost, additional parts. His friend had one that 'went off' while he was driving... yadda, yadda, yadda. I kindly thanked him for that encouraging little piece of info and left. Ever heard of 'don't ask, don't tell'?

Some things are better left unsaid. Someone remind me of that if I tend to go too far, will you? Oh wait, that's what my children are for! More on my offspring and their attempts at trying to keep me reigned in next time...

xoxo

To Blog or Not To Blog?

I admit it... I love reading blogs. I also love to watch mindless, reality television. Sitting back and analyzing this, it can only mean one thing: I need to get a life of my own and live it instead of watching others live theirs. So, that's what I intend to do. I've already begun by taking my first road trip to Dallas with my three daughters a few weeks ago. We had the most incredible time together. It was a time to prove to myself that this was something I could do without the fear of something dreadful happening, including the likely event that the kids would eventually turn on each other, but, to my delight, that didn't happen, either. Now, it's time to prepare for my next journey. What was I thinking when I planned out and booked this trip to Key West, Florida?! Again, it's time to 'man up' and just do it. If not now, then when, right?!





As most are already aware, life as I knew it almost came to an abrupt end last year when I was blindsided by a heart attack. This led to what they call Flash Edema and then Congestive Heart Failure. After struggling to get back on my feet for what seemed like an eternity, more testing revealed the need for Bypass Surgery. Not exactly the news I expected to hear from the Surgeon. The rest, as they say, is history and here I am today, a year after open heart surgery, deciding it's finally time to get out there and live the life I've only dreamed about for so long! Don't get me wrong, there are still those bad days where it takes all I have in me to finish out a normal day, but I guess this is what I can now refer to as my 'new normal' and keep pressing on toward that finish line intact. After this trip, my next hurdle will be writing that book. The book. This is where my need for true strength is way beyond! Having to face and recall the details of July 10, 2009 will take me to my limits.

For now, all my focus is on this upcoming trip with my best friend, Kym. Can I just tell you a little about this fascinating creature? When I describe her as a 'creature', it is meant in the most loving fashion as she is definately one of a kind. First of all, the fact that she dropped everything to rush to my side while I wasn't even aware she was there... what does that tell you?! She truly walked out the definition of friendship during the worst of times for me and my family.

From the moment we first met, about ten years ago, we clicked. Not only are we both so deeply passionate about photography, we just seemed to 'get' each other. I can't count the times we've been in a situation where all it took was a look and we instantly knew what the other was thinking. Most of them, you really don't want to know about, nor should be repeated in an open forum such as this!

I've heard her described as a force to be reckoned with and is that ever the truth! She's known to speak her mind, as I'm more known for my timidity. She's bold, bright and shiny where I'm quiet, dark and mousy. She chases tornadoes while I head to the storm cellar. I have education envy as she's recently completed her Doctorate, while I'm barely a high school graduate. She's living proof that all things are possible, especially after knowing her background and upbringing as I do. We could not be more opposite, yet more alike in so many ways. She truly inspires me to go the extra distance, no matter what 'might' happen. She has called me 'her hero' more times that I can count, but the truth of the matter is that she is mine and that's all there is to it. I know she'll have my back in every situation, especially while trying to navigate me (highly sedated) and our luggage through the airports of Florida and for that I'll be forever grateful! I can only hope and pray I can be for her what she is for me.

My first blog, ever, dedicated to my best friend, Dr. Kym, whom you will be hearing more about, especially while in Florida... sorry, but we both know that some stories will just have to be shared!


xoxo