No, this isn’t a renegade Valentine’s Day blog post. Nor is it an advertisement for the newest Hallmark movie. Just a brief look at our world on the day of a heart cath for Chris.
The
day begins early. Especially for
me. My body has an uncanny knack for
waking up about an hour or so before it has to in situations like this. Some kind of internal alarm system. So … I was awake at 4:30. Chris followed at our previously agreed-upon
time – 5 a.m. I had some fruit for
breakfast before Chris got out of the shower.
She wasn’t allowed to eat after midnight, so I, being the incredibly
nice husband that I am, was just not eating in front of her.
Once
at the hospital – and past the volunteer at the front desk who was bravely
guarding her post – and up the elevator to the sixth floor - we arrived at the
cath lab. We were ushered – and paperworked
- right in and Chris donned the latest in lovely hospital fashions. Everything went really fast this time. The guy who came to get her even told us that
they were actually ahead of schedule.
That’s a first. One of the fellows
(that would be a “fellow” as in his hospital status, not simply some fella
who happened to be walking by. I have no
idea what a “fellow” does to earn that title, but this particular guy did it)
took me aside and said, “Now this procedure could take as long as two to three
hours.” That seemed long to me, from our
past experience in the cath lab. But he
then continued, “Actually, I just tell people that so that when it only takes
an hour and a half or son, it makes me look good.” Well, OK, then I didn’t tell him that sharing that little tidbit
with me kind of voided the ”looking good” contract. Meanwhile, Chris had a little encounter of
her own. One of the nurses came in,
checked Chris’ chart, and remarked, “Gee, you look a lot younger than you are.” I think that was a complement …
Before
long I was ushered into the waiting room where I began to … well, wait. Nathan arrived shortly after, and we chatted
while he had some breakfast. Chili
cheese flavored fritos and some kind of flavored doritos, washed down with a
cup of that blue powerade stuff.
Breakfast of champions, to be sure.
By the time they came out to get us an hour and a half later, April had
joined us from her post in the ER. The doc
came in almost as soon as I got into the room, and he began talking
immediately. I held up my hand and asked
him to please stop the words for just a second.
Yes, that’s pretty much what I said – “Could you please stop with those
medically-type words for just a second.”
It confused him at first, but when Nathan and April joined us, he
understood. Extra ears and all. He gave
us the brief summary, and then asked if we wanted to see it. Well, April was all over that one. So we left Chris alone again and headed into
the video viewing room.
The
pictures showed clearly what the problem had been this time. The second blockade structure in her widowmaker
artery had not appeared to be severe at first, but a quick stress test, and
BAM. There it was. She flunked.
It’s taken a long time to make the story this short, but … they put in
another stent. Number three, but who’s
counting? Then, kind of off-the-cuff, he
casually mentioned, “The artery on the right side of the heart id doping
Ok. The blockages there are just moderate.” Umm.
What? Something to look forward
to, I suppose. He also listed about ten
or twelves factors that affect blockage formation. The only two that applied to Chris were old
age and family history factors. Great. That’s the only two you have no control
over.
Since
they went through her groin to get to her heart, they installed some kind of
chemical plug to stop it from bleeding. That
meant an overnight stay in the UTMB Hilton.
It took a while to find her a room elsewhere in the “hotel.” So we watched a Lifetime movie together (They
didn’t have the Hallmark Channel).
The room actually came through – with a little help from someone we know
in “the system” – before the end of the movie.
Not to worry. We had seen it
before. We knew the ending. The guy gets the girl, and they kiss in the snow. Surprise!
There
was a flurry of activity on the floor once we arrived. The nurse came in to visit and begin her
admittance protocol. A resident came to
check in. She saw all the bodies and
came back later. A supervisor from
housekeeping came by to see if we were satisfied with how the room had been
cleaned. I answered that one. I assured her that even though we had just
been in the area for approximately a minute and a half, the room appeared to be
spotless. And before the admission
process had been completed, the in-room phone rang. All activity suddenly stopped. The nurse joined us all in staring and the
ringing phone. I decided to deal with the
elephant in the room, and asked, “Gee, now who could that be, calling us at
this hour? Should I answer it?” The nurse chuckled and said, “Well, we’re not
even admitted yet, so no one should know we are here. Go for it.”
Come to find out, it was the all-knowing, all-seeing … cafeteria. They just wanted to see what Chris wanted for
lunch. Someone, somewhere had tracked us
down. Probably that alleged loop
recorder implant Chris has in her chest.
Is it really “just a recorder”?
Could it actually be a secret tracker for a subversive alien race
seeking to take over our world slowly, one heart patient at a time? Should we have eaten that yummy lunch they
brought up? Ah, all questions for the
ages.
Meanwhile,
I went home for the night even though they laid another bombshell on us and said
I could have spent the night with her.
Whatever happened to their Covid protocols? Not that I’m complaining, mind you. I watched a movie and headed to bed by
ten. Oh, but not after Chris called to
ask what happened to her phone charger.
From the sounds of things, the tines of the plug came loose and were
stuck in the wall socket. Very strange. I packed an extra charger to bring up
today. It all fits, though. The aliens wouldn’t want her to have contact
with the outside world, you know …
Psalms
28:7 says, “The Lord is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in him,
and he helps me. My heart leaps for joy,
and with my song I praise him.”
Father,
thank you that they found something they could address. Please let this be “the issue” so Chris can
get back to being, well, Chris. Amen.
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