Dad's Home

Last week my father was rushed to emergency with chest pains. Under normal circumstances this is not good news. When you consider that he underwent an angiogram in July that resulted in having a stent placed in order to open up a nearly blocked artery, such a scenario is downright scary. The good news is that he is back home and doing well. After an overnight stay in the hospital, he underwent yet another angiogram that confirmed his blood vessels were all clear. It was determined (which means the doctor's best guess is) that the chest pains were caused by my father stopping his medication regimen. He did so because the medicine was making him sick but the result was a trip to the hospital. He has been placed back on the medication regimen but this time at a lower dosage in an attempt to curb or eliminate the adverse effects he was experiencing.

My parents are in their mid-70's. They are relatively active and fairly healthy but they have slowed down considerably. This makes me sad. It places their mortality and my own squarely in my face. I have become acutely aware of the passage of time or, more precisely, the dwindling of our time remaining.

I need to stop here before I break down and cry.

Ballo ergo sum,
- Gitana, the Creative Diva

An Emotional Day

I received very disturbing news today. My mother called to tell me she was taking my father to the emergency room because of chest pains. My dad had an angiogram at the end of July and had a stent placed in one of his arteries. He hasn't been quite the same since, suffering from pains in his upper joints, back, neck and chest. The aspirin regimen he was on for his heart condition caused an ulcer. He's been given so many medications that they were negatively interacting and he felt worse. I could go on.

It seems to me that he has gone from strong and robust to frail and frightened overnight but if I examine my heart of hearts I know the truth. I have chosen not to see time marching across his handsome face. I have chosen not to notice the once herculean physique dwindle and the twinkle in his eyes fade. He always seemed like a big man to me but I realize now that it was because, in my eyes, he was a little larger than life. Now life overshadows him and he seems small by comparison.

Dad's going to have to spend a few days in the hospital undergoing tests to see if his heart problem can be pinpointed and fixed. I strongly suspect that another angiogram is in his future. Who knows what else is in store for him. All I know is that Daddy is old and sick and there's nothing I can do to change it or make him better.

And I'm scared. Very, very scared.

Ballo ergo sum,
- Gitana, the Creative Diva

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