Finally home

It's Wednesday, July 15, 9:27 am. Seven days ago, I was lying on a table, anesthetized, as Dr. Rosenbloom and his team did their surgical magic. I've been home for the last three days, and am about to publish my last (at least for a while) and probably most bizarre post: the story of what has happened since I got home.

Following some last minute scares, my EKG in the middle of the night, and an early morning blood test of my Coumadin level(the nurses had overlooked the order, so I had to wait for those results to come in), Drs. Ginsburg, Bowen, and South Africa came to my room to tell me I was going home. Maryka commented on how well I was recovering, and Dr. Ginsburg responded, as he had the day before, that Dr. Rosenbloom and his team do a very good job. This time, after a pause, he gave credit to the healing powers of the patient.

After getting my discharge instructions, we left the hospital and stopped at CVS, where Matt and I filled my prescriptions, while Maryka bought lox and bagels for my first not-Heart-Healthy meal in days. I got home where BB, who had not come to the hospital, gave me a hug. I saw Sasha, who had driven in the night before, and had visited me briefly in the hospital as well. We all played some games of rummy before Sasha and Matt had to leave. Since then, Maryka and I have enjoyed our time together. We'll see my mother today. She is coming over for lunch. On Saturday, I am hoping to drop by the tennis court and say hello to the members of my tennis group (no actual play for a few months). Matt thought I should dress in tennis wear, and walk to the court carrying my racquet. I'll visit my mother on Saturday, following our routine of breakfast in her apartment, every Saturday morning. Sunday, I plan to go to church. Next Monday, I hope to start completing some reports (there were ten I could not get to before my surgical break). Now, here's what is bizarre. This whole operation feels like no big deal. When Dr. Rosenbloom first told me he could not do minimally invasive surgery because he would be working on two valves, I asked if it would be better to do two separate operations. He responded by asking if I knew anyone who had had heart surgery, the implication that you don't want to do this twice. Now, I think his response should have been, Why? I'll have you out in a jiffy.

I feel quite well. Just one week after the operation, I have very few problems. The numbness in my right hand persists. I can't lift anything heavy (when we went to LabCorp yesterday for my blood work, Maryka opened the somewhat heavy door for me). I get a bit more tired doing ordinary things (yesterday, I walked from the bedroom to the dining room, but kept forgetting things I needed -- the back and forth trips a bit wearing). I'm not supposed to drive. All that notwithstanding, I feel good. In fact, I have no doubt that, if I had to, I could return to work today. My plan is to go back on August 3, and work two hours a day. I could do that now. I'm not going to. I'm sticking to my plan. But, that's still the truth.

Before my operation, I talked to others, Tom Leacock, who had previously had heart valve surgery at a much younger age, as well as Howard. I conferred with my doctors to see what to expect. Dale Matthews, a doctor and Maryka's nephew, has always been helpful with information and advice. I bought a book, "The Patient's Guide to Heart Valve Surgery," written by a former double valve replacement patient. Nothing I learned could have possibly predicted the response I have had.

Note, I said bought, not read, The Patient's Guide. It was an ominous book, which I put down quickly. It predicted serious pain, risk of opiate addiction, and months of a slow and difficult recovery. The author advised setting up a "support team" for 24 hour care when you return from the hospital. You will need a bell to summon help, as it will be too painful pulling yourself out of bed. It took him three months to return to work. One week? Inconceivable!

I feel good. I feel better today than I did at this juncture when I went to the hospital in February. Then, I was drained. Dale and Demetra dropped by that Sunday. I enjoyed their short visit, but had to go to bed before they left.

Although I may update this blog, as things transpire, this will be my last regular post. I have other things to do. I will still stay home until August 3, but there is some other writing I have wanted to do, but never have had the time. So rather than post to this blog (unless something significant comes up), I'll put my writing time into that project instead. For all who have followed, thank you for your interest and support. It has certainly helped to know there are people who care.