I have successfully weathered my first (and hopefully only) angiogram and am back home to report about it. Nothing remarkable was found but I have been placed on an aspirin regimen and must watch my cholesterol. Short story...I'm okay.
As planned, I did not sleep through the night, preferring to sleep at the hospital during and after the procedure. Time seemed to speed up as it neared the hour of my departure from home for the trip to the hospital. As expected, the travel took forever in the early morning hours and there were more people in the trains than I would have expected. Everything went smoothly and without a hitch once I arrived at the hospital, and in short order I found myself in the recovery room calling my husband for a pickup. I was even given a delicious tuna sandwich and some ginger ale to eat. Once I returned home, I picked up where I left off at the hospital, that is, I promptly went back to sleep and didn't wake up until many hours later when my son called me to announce dinner was servd. (Yes, my son cooks. I made sure of it. I'm no fool.) Dinner was delicious and afterwards I watched television with my children. It's not often my children cater to me and if being a "patient" is what it takes, I'm going to milk it to the hilt.
I'm glad this issue is over for the present. Now it's back to holiday madness for me. After all, there are still gifts to buy, presents to wrap, decorations to put up, etc., etc., etc.
Boy, it feels good to be back.
Ballo ergo sum,
- Gitana, the Creative Diva
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Monday, December 14, 2009
Pre-procedure Jitters
My father's father died of a stroke in his eighties. My father's brother died of a heart attack in his forties. My father, in his mid seventies, recently underwent an angiogram where a blockage was discovered, removed, and a stent implanted. He, thankfully, is doing well and is under medical care so he can stay that way.
Several months ago I underwent a routine stress test. Routine, that is, until abnormal readings showed up. My primary physician, who is also a cardiac specialist, recommended I undergo an angiogram to see if there was anything going on in my heart that may be cause for concern. Before agreeing to this procedure I sought the opinion of two other cardiac specialists. Both said the same thing my doctor said...my test results were not critical and may turn out to be nothing at all but they also recommended an angiogram. Given the cardiac history on my father's side, this sounds like good advice.
I am scheduled to undergo the procedure later this morning. It is a relatively simple procedure that should take less than half an hour to perform and will require me to lie perfectly still for several hours afterwards to prevent any bleeding at the entry site. I witnessed my father successfully undergo this procedure and emerge as good if not better than new. And my doctor performs angiograms on a routine basis so I'm in good hands. But I'm scared. Scared to death. Scared to take this test and even more scared not to. Moreover I haven't told anyone about my trepidations so I'm carrying this alone. I specifically didn't tell my parents about this. I didn't want to worry them. Worse than that, I didn't want to have my mother twittering about, calling me up constantly to see how I'm doing, giving me endless advice, trying to be very helpful but annoying me to no end in the process. That would have stressed me out even more. No, better to keep this to myself. Only my husband, children and sister know about the angiogram but even they don't know I'm scared. Better that way.
It is now 2 AM. I won't be going to sleep tonight, preferring to stay up until it's time for me to go. I will leave at 4:30 AM to travel to the hospital by mass transit. During normal business hours this trip might take an hour or an hour and a quarter at best. At this unholy hour, when even the birds are still asleep and the trains are running at a snail's pace, I expect a much longer travel time. My husband will come to pick me up after my recovery period and bring me home where I fully intend to lay in bed and do a whole lot of nothing. At least that's the plan. Let's see how this all plays out.
To be continued...
Ballo ergo sum,
- Gitana, the Creative Diva
Several months ago I underwent a routine stress test. Routine, that is, until abnormal readings showed up. My primary physician, who is also a cardiac specialist, recommended I undergo an angiogram to see if there was anything going on in my heart that may be cause for concern. Before agreeing to this procedure I sought the opinion of two other cardiac specialists. Both said the same thing my doctor said...my test results were not critical and may turn out to be nothing at all but they also recommended an angiogram. Given the cardiac history on my father's side, this sounds like good advice.
I am scheduled to undergo the procedure later this morning. It is a relatively simple procedure that should take less than half an hour to perform and will require me to lie perfectly still for several hours afterwards to prevent any bleeding at the entry site. I witnessed my father successfully undergo this procedure and emerge as good if not better than new. And my doctor performs angiograms on a routine basis so I'm in good hands. But I'm scared. Scared to death. Scared to take this test and even more scared not to. Moreover I haven't told anyone about my trepidations so I'm carrying this alone. I specifically didn't tell my parents about this. I didn't want to worry them. Worse than that, I didn't want to have my mother twittering about, calling me up constantly to see how I'm doing, giving me endless advice, trying to be very helpful but annoying me to no end in the process. That would have stressed me out even more. No, better to keep this to myself. Only my husband, children and sister know about the angiogram but even they don't know I'm scared. Better that way.
It is now 2 AM. I won't be going to sleep tonight, preferring to stay up until it's time for me to go. I will leave at 4:30 AM to travel to the hospital by mass transit. During normal business hours this trip might take an hour or an hour and a quarter at best. At this unholy hour, when even the birds are still asleep and the trains are running at a snail's pace, I expect a much longer travel time. My husband will come to pick me up after my recovery period and bring me home where I fully intend to lay in bed and do a whole lot of nothing. At least that's the plan. Let's see how this all plays out.
To be continued...
Ballo ergo sum,
- Gitana, the Creative Diva
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