Health Update #3 – After the Cath

So much is happening this week and so much to write about.  The mainstream media is now throwing all political caution to the wind and pronouncing POTUS “mad” and “crazy’  for his insensitive tweets regarding the latest terrorist attack in London.   No note of condolence or encouragement, just an ill-timed statement that politicized the tragedy and pissed off the mayor of London and the British PM.

WTF?

Have no fear, fellow liberals!  Fired FBI director James Comey is scheduled to testify in Congress in a few days.  Many are expecting that he will hammer in the first nails in the coffin of the Herr Orange presidency.  And it will be televised like the Watergate hearings 44 years ago.  Gather your loved ones and cook the popcorn for must-see TV history in the making!   If I wasn’t recovering from cardiac surgery I would surely include nasty chips and dip, but sigh…

Also, Bill Cosby’s trial for sexual assault is happening in a court room three miles from my house!  There have been some comparisons made between Cosby’s case and the O.J. Simpson trial in the 90s, but hopefully the Cosby trial won’t deteriorate into a circus. 

Unfortunately all this will be put on the back burner for now, as I have a tale to finish.

We last left the Gunthers (Warrior Queen et moi) discussing my case with a cardiologist at the hospital when the physician explained that my problem was electrical in nature.  I knew where he was going with this and so I was not surprised when he uttered the word pacemaker shortly after.  He went on to explain more details while I thought about the last few months and all the episodes of light-headedness and being out of breath.  I concluded that I have had enough of all that and let’s get this over with once and for all.  The implant procedure for the pacemaker was quickly scheduled for the next day.

In the meantime, the hospital dietary department moved me to a heart healthy menu.  Now I needed to mind my carbs more than my sodium intake.  A dietician had come to visit me earlier in the week about watching sodium in the future; now Warrior Queen was present when another dietician came to my room with a lecture about counting carbs to curb my borderline diabetic condition.  We got some very helpful suggestions which could ultimately also help both of us lose weight.

At least one suggestion will need to be modified with (pun intended) a grain of salt.  The dietician suggested that such food like pizza be reserved for special occasions.

Pizza?  Special occasions?  WTF?

Truthfully, we are both enthusiastic about losing weight, but we will need to use up the nasty stuff already in our pantry first before we plunge ahead into our new diets.  There is also a conflict between having fresh fruits to avoid carbs, yet not eat fresh fruits because the sugar in the fruit is bad for diabetic condition.

WTF dieticians?  Why don’t you two take your discussion out to the parking lot while we discuss our options here in my room?  Let us know what you decide.  In any event, it may boil down to compromise between the two extremes. We will have to modify these suggestions to get the best effect of both worlds.

The implant on Thursday, June 1, went off without any complications.   I remember receiving more sedation then I had for the cath procedure and a number of blue tarps being placed over my head and face.  I don’t think I was totally out during the implantation, but I remember more about the uncomfortable hours after the procedure.   

I was given a diuretic to assist me void my bladder of excess fluid.  It was uncomfortable because I could not move out of bed for several hours and thus facilitate my urination.  Finally the time passed, I stood up and - without getting too technical or graphic - I felt much relief.  

Warrior Queen worked another half day on Friday when everyone expected that I should be released.  This was another round of “Hurry Up and Wait for the Cardiologist or Somebody like Him”.  In the meantime, there was a parade of aides to take my vitals, nurses to administer my daily meds and another shot of diuretic, a visit from a medical equipment rep to review with me all I needed to know to start the communicator device I would use with my pacemaker, and someone from housekeeping to mop up the floor. 

The cardiologist finally appeared late in the afternoon and Warrior Queen was able to take me home where our cats sniffed me only to walk away like I had never been away at all.   Thanks girls, for putting everything in perspective.

(Thank you for reading.  “And that is how we came to fly to America...”