No matter how battered and bruised my heart may be, there is still so much to love, so much to be thankful for — including all of you. Yes, this will be long. There’s a lot to tell and something important to run by all of you.
The love goes on. The body just doesn’t have a great deal of strength these days. That’s why it has taken me so long to put this post together. It doesn’t take much to wipe me out. But compared to where I’ve been, it’s wonderful.
As some of you know, three weeks ago tomorrow I briefly died. “Sudden cardiac death,” a doctor eventually told me.
I was returning home from a visit with our own Yasu and at the train station in Connecticut waiting for my train to Boston. Looked at the clock and thought, “I have time for some coffee,” and that was it. No forewarning. No light headedness or dizziness. No pain. Just gone.
Came to in the back of an ambulance, looked at the concerned EMTs and said, “Something bad happened, didn’t it?” Their relief was palatable.
I couldn’t quite believe any of it. Except for the giant egg forming on my head where it hit the floor when I collapsed, there wasn’t any pain. I wasn’t on oxygen and was sitting up and doing better than some of the other folks in the ER. Or that’s what I clung to anyway. Even when test results started coming in and I was moved to ICU, it was impossible to completely wrap my mind around what had happened. A bit of shock and disbelief, no doubt.
What was foremost on my mind was the distance between myself and my loved ones — my SO, children, and grand babies. i was frantic to get home and worried about them all. The one thing any decent parent doesn’t want to do is frighten their children and grand babies. And I was doing just that while being far from home.
My daughters blew through four states in record time to get to me. My son the RN would come down later when he was through with his shift at the hospital in Maine. Meanwhile, every time a doctor or nurse came into my room, one of my daughters would call their brother and put him on speaker so he could hear every word and ask any questions he had. All my children were with me. This community was with me.
You eased my children’s hearts that night. You made them cry, in a good way. You made them and their Mom feel surrounded by caring and support.
You see, they read Yasu’s plea for help that she posted for me when I was feeling most surrounded by iron bars and trapped. I can’t begin to describe how desperate I was to get home. That desperation was the only thing that would have made me ask for help. And the way you responded eased my children’s hearts and mine.
They read your caring responses when they were wondering how they were going to get their Mom home and what was next. My children and I are still in awe of what you did that night. Your caring helped us get through the succeeding days.
I was transferred to Yale-New Haven hospital. Had a second cardiac catheterization done and a stent implanted. Blood was drawn every day. I was on a heart monitor 24/7. Turns out the left descending artery — yes, the old “widow maker” itself — was 65% blocked. But that wasn’t the only issue. I had electrical problems going on with the left ventricle bundle block. It wasn’t working properly and therefore putting extra strain on the other bundle blocks and, of course, my heart.
It also turned out that my heart’s strength is down to 24%, a number that makes no one happy. That means, among other things, that my heart is having problems pumping out blood.
The upshot of it all is that none of the doctors seemed totally clear on what caused me to briefly die. Obviously there was a convergence of factors. And even more obviously, it could happen again.
There were more tests done at Yale, including two MRI’s because something is going on with my spine. [It could be anything from degenerative spine disease that can come from aging, to cancer. But I don’t have the markers for cancer so that can wait. Has to wait as they can’t do any biopsies right now because the stent was put it and I’m on blood thinners. So we wait. I can handle that because getting my heart stronger is my main focus these days.]
I was monitored 24/7, including by my son who is an RN and made a huge difference. The nurses were superb. The information at times confusing. Thank god for my son who took care of so much for me. Thank god for all my children. Seeing their faces meant everything.
And thank god for all of you. Your caring, your support, helped all of us keep going through a very frightening time.
It’s still frightening. How could it not be? But that will ease with time as the new parameters of life get clearer. I’ve already seen my regular Cardiologist here at home. See my EP Cardiologist next month. And a neurologist is being set up for my spinal issues.
Yes. I’m home. I’m wearing a Life Vest 24/7 and on a variety of medications. The Life Vest is basically a wearable defibrillator that will start my heart if it stops again.
And I’m learning to walk much more slowly than I used to. I can’t drive for six months for understandable reasons. I’m going to have a third echo-cardiogram March 30th and meet with my Cardiologist on April 6th to discuss the full results. If my heart has strengthened by then, I may not need to have a permanent defibrillator implanted. I’m hoping that the Cardiac Rehab that begins later this month will help a great deal with that. If my heart hasn’t strengthened, a permanent defibrillator will have to be implanted.
But I’m home. I’m alive. And so thankful for that. Yes, there are days I’m struggling with fear, afraid to even sleep, afraid I won’t wake up again. But each day will be a little better than the last, and you are a large part of that. You helped me and mine when our world had just been blown apart and continue to do so more than you know.
You see, thanks to my amazing RN Son, a wonderful Nurse at Yale-New Haven Hospital, and the Life Vest, I didn’t need an ambulance to get home. It took all of the above for the hospital to finally agree to let my son drive me home, and he made the drive in record time.
So I have something to run by you.
When Yasu put up the fund raising diary for me, my children and I were feeling very overwhelmed and trapped. Being told that it would take 3 grand for an ambulance home had me feeling like iron bars had just come down all around us. Hence the breaking of my cardinal rule on Dkos which was never asking for help. And help was so stunningly, beautifully, provided. You all left us in tears of relief and feeling much less alone. The outpouring of support meant the world. Still does. Always will. I think of what you all did that night three weeks ago and it eases my fears. Your caring eases my heart. And now I’m crying again, something I do fairly easily these days.
But darlins, I didn't end up needing an ambulance ride back to Maine and that is what the donations were for. I don't want to take anyone's money for something it wasn't intended for. Yes, I know I'm going to have expenses and medical bills like crazy. I've only just begun on this strange trip and have already had to get some repairs done on the car to ensure I can get to the multiple doctors visits and Cardiac Rehab appointments that are coming up.
But that's not what Yasu's post was about. It was about getting me home. So I'd like to refund the money to those who would like their donations for the ambulance ride back. No guilt allowed. None. Just PM me and it will be done with my deepest heartfelt gratitude.
Seriously, wonderful ones. Your caring, your support, means worlds — with or without dollar signs. When I’ve been feeling afraid, one of things that provides comfort are all your wonderful replies to Yasu’s post three weeks ago. Your caring has eased my heart in so many ways.
I truly can never thank you enough.
Love and Blessings to you all, always.
Tuesday, Feb 13, 2018 · 9:52:32 PM +00:00 · Onomastic
Was able to see my youngest and oldest grand boys for a little bit. Have missed them terribly and also wanted them to see Nana up and about, smiling and laughing. Wanted to ease their worries and hope I did so. Of course, now I need to lay down for a bit. I’m still not used to how this damned weakness can just suddenly hit. I will respond to each of you, but need to take frequent breaks so it’s just not going to be as quickly as I’d like. Love you all very much.