Heart Surgery Just Isn't Much Fun

It all started last Christmas when an echocardiogram revealed I needed a heart catheterization.

The “cath” showed I had a leaky diseased aortic valve and to top it off, an aneurysm. I could get it fixed or die, simple as that.

My family convinced me I still had some years left on planet Earth and I pushed onward. Having a cardiac anesthesiologist cousin was mighty handy. He guided me in finding the best place to go. “You want a team,” he said. “A whole team of good doctors, not just one. If something goes wrong, there is backup. He also noted the importance of a good anesthesiologist.”

His research took me to UPMC Pinnacle Health in Harrisburg where Dr. Mubashir Mumtaz has done more than 4,000 valve replacements. Harrisburg is easy to get in and out of and the hospital has plenty of parking.

Family travel arrangements were made with kids on hand to help support my husband of almost 64 years.

Because of the aneurysm, there was no choice but to go through my rib cage, not the easiest way to repair a valve, but not a lot of options.

I have not had a lot of hospital experience but what I had was always, “ Hurry up and wait”. An appointment scheduled for 6 a.m. would take place around 8 or 9. Not so with Pinnacle; I was to be there at 5:30 a.m. and at that exact minute, they called my name. My surgery was scheduled for 7 a.m. and, at 7 a.m. I was meeting the operating room. It’s been the same with every appointment.

Waking up about 4 hours later, I remember thinking, “I am so glad this is over.” My second thought; “This just isn’t much fun.” I was hooked up to multiple wires and machines which came off, one by one over the next several days.

Being turned over to the nurses, I felt I was in the hands of a small United Nations. I have never liked tattoos; simply do not see why today’s young people find them attractive. I learned that tattoos or not, nurses are caring people. I had nurses of all colors, creeds, both genders, and all sizes. When I pushed that “nurse” button, I never knew who would come through the door. But, within seconds, someone, a caring person, was there to help. I was never greeted with anything but a smile and, sometimes, a hug.

Our son and my husband were there for the entire week and our daughter made a mid-week visit. No one said a word when we had a family reunion in my room which had a view of the Susquehanna and that picturesque bridge that crosses it. I kept remembering a picture my grandmother had of that bridge hanging on her living room wall.

I had a surprise visit from my home pastor, Bob Marsh and his wife, Amy. Another surprise visit was Dr. Robert Little. Bob grew up on a farm about 1/4 mile from my home and was a primary care doctor in Harrisburg until he retired. Having had heart surgery himself, he knew what I was experiencing.

During my stay, I was seen by so many parts of the hospital including physical therapy and respiratory. They along with food service and the girls who cleaned my room were all kind, friendly, and considerate.

On the fifth day, I was discharged and from somewhere came enough strength to get dressed and get in the back seat of the car. This is a position I would take for the next four weeks. Once home, I was so weak, I could barely push the toothpaste out of the tube. I sat to brush my teeth; my husband got me a shower chair; I threw my dirty clothes on the floor because I just didn’t care.

Then, ever so gradually, strength started to return. I had been given a list of exercises which I followed each day. Home nursing, physical therapy, and occupational therapy made visits. I walked around inside the house, learned to do the stairs to the basement, walked around the outside of the house in the cool of the evening, and we drove into town to walk several level blocks at a time. Usually, these excursions ended with a stop at the ice cream shop.

I began to crave interaction with people and welcomed neighbor visits. The Farmer’s Market became a great place to walk, and I went back to church.

My appetite came roaring back with a great hunger for foods high in protein. I began throwing my dirty clothes into the hamper. Things like dead pansies hanging in front of our house bothered me and we made a trip to the plant shop for some petunias.

I still have a way to go and will be doing cardiac rehab to help get back the rest of my strength. Meanwhile, I cannot say enough good about my husband who has been cooking (something entirely new to him); doing laundry and keeping my spirits high. We found a wonderful cleaning person to help with house chores.

All in all, it’s been quite an experience and one I would not want to repeat on a regular basis. I do know that, from now on, I will have great empathy for anyone going through heart surgery. The pile of cards on my dining room table makes me realize that cards are so welcomed; so comforting. I will send more.

Meanwhile, I would give a great big thank you to the caring, loving people who surrounded me during this time. They made the whole thing as pleasant as possible even if it isn’t much fun.