We’ve all seen the inundation of ads thanking first responders for their heroic efforts. Candidly I find these ads suspect and I don’t need my local plumbing company, law firm, internet provider, or fast food joint telling me to be thankful for all those EMT’s, Nurses, CNA’s, and Doctors who are risking their own lives to save the rest of us from the ravages of COVID. Even as the nation is contemplating thumbing their once thankful nose at them as we potentially reopen minus adequate testing and with no cure or vaccine remotely in sight.
This particular blog has the title of ‘The Angels Among Us’. Perhaps you believe in angels already. I had never really given it too much thought, at least until last Tuesday. When a couple of them saved my life.
Those who know me know that I can be a wee bit stubborn and contrary. So far be it for me to need my angels for anything related to the current pandemic rage. Nope, no Corona Virus for me. Instead, I opted for that old standby.... but wait, I’m getting ahead of myself.
Couple of weeks back I was on a mountain bike ride relishing the singletrack trails of Bear Creek Park. I was having a great ride but about an hour in I started to feel suddenly very short of breath and like I was going to feint. Mountain bikers may not be the smartest bunch of coconuts wearing a bike helmet but I did the right thing. I stopped and rested for about ten minutes before making my way back to my car, went home and took a couple of Ibuprofen and took it easy. Couple of days later, another bike ride, this time through Chatfield State Park, and again, after an hour, I started exhibiting the same symptoms. This time I was a little farther from my car at the Mineral Park & Ride and it was a struggle all the way back. Hmmm, this was starting to seriously get my focused attention. Now I’m not one who likes visits to Doctors offices but it seemed a trip to my Primary Care Physician was in order. Tests were done - Spirometry, Blood, and a chest X-Ray. And... all came back normal. Wonderful! Except we still had no idea what was behind my symptoms...
I was now experiencing shortness of breath and feeling feint doing something as simple as taking our dogs for a walk. Now for most of you you're probably well ahead of me and the warning signs are screaming in the background. I didn't want to acknowledge the elephant riding on the bike with me, but my family history does include heart disease going back several generations on my father's side. I'm sure I was hoping my Primary Care Doctor would find something simple like an upper respiratory infection, prescribe some antibiotics, and I could pedal on my merry way. He hadn't done that so I was forced to consider the second, far less favorable, path of possibilities.
Knowing my family history I had been under the care of a couple of Doctors at South Denver Cardiology Associates for several years. One of them, Richard Collins (now retired) had convinced me almost from the get-go to switch to a plant-based diet and had put me, like millions of other Americans, on statins to control high cholesterol. The diet and statins, along with lots of exercise and no smoking or drinking, worked but he was clear with me - there was a genetic component to this that could not be ignored.
So I made the call to my current South Denver Doc, Dr. David Schuchman. They're not seeing many patients in-person due to COVID, but after hearing my symptoms he scheduled me in almost immediately. The Angels were starting to assemble.
I wasn't exhibiting classic symptoms - no chest pain or discomfort by example. Except when experiencing symptoms I felt perfectly fine. Still, he thought it prudent to get me in for an angiogram and heart catherization and explained that if they found a blockage they'd insert stents and I could likely go home the same day as the procedure which would take about two hours. This procedure has become so routine its now considered outpatient and the catheter is now threaded to the heart through a tiny incision right behind your wrist. OK, wasn't real thrilled about having stents in my heart but even there the technology has come a long way. The stents are now drug-infused to prevent many of the complications of old (like 10 or 20 years ago) so how could I go wrong? The road ahead seemed to be well-marked and easy to follow.
Tuesday, the 21st of April, was a beautiful Colorado day, sunny and promising warm Springtime temperatures. My procedure was scheduled at Littleton Adventist Hospital. Driving from my home, traffic was non-existent thanks to Colorado Governor Polis' Covid Stay At Home Order so in no time they were taking my temperature, making sure I was wearing a mask, and whisking me off to be prepped for the procedure. They only allowed my wife to accompany me a little way so soon I was alone not aware that the next time I would see her, if ever, would be nearly a week away,
It's about time for some good news don't you think? The angiogram did find almost a complete blockage in the right coronary artery and two stents were inserted. Blood was now flowing the way that it should. When I awoke in recovery Dr. Cedrone, who did the procedure, thought he'd like to keep me overnight just for observation. While disappointed not to be going home immediately I was willing to spend an extra day making sure everything was fine. Little did I know but the Angels were really starting to assemble...
Her awareness and quick actions set in motion a multitude of steps that would extend the better part of the night and the rest of the week. CPR, defibrillation, another trip to the Heart Cath lab to check to see if my stents had collapsed (they hadn't), intubation and being placed on a ventilator (that same device made famous by COVID that we don't seem to have enough of).
I awoke midmorning on Wednesday and quickly realized something had happened though I could only guess as to what. With a tube down your throat and your hands in mitts (so you don't try to yank the tube out) its kind of difficult to communicate but eventually the nurse allowed me to use a white board to ask some questions. By mid-afternoon they had removed the tube (something I would not like to ever experience again) and I was on a path not of my choosing but one I was happy to follow given that the alternate trail was literally a dead end.
By Thursday the doctors were recommending that I have a combination pacemaker/in-cardiac defibrillator implanted and that procedure was set for the following day. After what happened after my first procedure I was understandably very (VERY) nervous about having them do anything to my heart but agreed after coming to the conclusion that this would protect me going forward and give me a new lease on life. Still, I was counting on more angels to see me through.
The Friday procedure went like clockwork and after about an hour and a half I was awake and heading back to my room for more 'observation' in anticipation of possibly being released on Saturday. I'd be remiss not to say by this point the original complaint - shortness of breath and feeling feint - had disappeared which was a wonderful thing. In their place of course I was now bruised over much of my body, my sternum where they had done CPR was extremely painful to the touch, I felt like a pincushion from IV lines here, there, and everywhere, and I now had a 3-4" incision below my left collarbone as well as a not-so-discreet lump in my chest that was the actual implanted device. My angels and I truly had a busy week.
As I write this I'm now at home taking things one day (one hour?) at a time. I went for a walk yesterday and today with my wife and puppies and feel amazingly... alive. Alive. Thanks to the angels among us, that's more than I could hope for. And for that, I am truly thankful.