About Me (In My Own Words)
I live in Desborough, England and I was 58, relatively fit apart from some arthritis and joint pains, but I still walked and cycled when possible.
One day I'm doing ok, normal stuff, taking an axle out of a car ready to transplant it into our own vehicle, then a few days later I'm struggling to get out of bed, no energy, hard to get a good breath.
I ended up going to A&E and spending the best part of 20 hours there over 3 days, eventually being told I need to see a heart consultant, but it might not be for 2 weeks.
It didn't matter, the following day my wife had to call the ambulance as I was really finding it hard to breathe and was taken straight to hospital.
Tests were done over the following week whilst in hospital, being monitored 24/7 on blood pressure and ECG machines. I had an echocardiogram, x-rays, blood tests galore for infections, an angiogram and checks of my teeth.
The consultant casually told me my heart was under a lot of strain and I needed surgery, probably to have a replacement mitral valve. But I had to wait here in this hospital until a bed was available in the specialist heart unit 35 miles away where the procedure would be carried out.
It might be days or weeks.
No one explained much, but I'm pretty clued up as to roughly what happens with heart surgery and it scared me. I tried to keep calm and be pragmatic.
Then came the day, 11 days after first being admitted, a doctor came and told me that a space had become available and I was being transferred to have the operation.
The ambulance would be here in less than 2 hours.
So after an uneventful ambulance ride from Kettering general hospital, through the city of Leicester to Glenfield specialist heart unit, I am alone and quite nervous, with one after another health professional coming in and explaining who they were and what would happen, and of course all the paperwork to sign, consenting that it's ok if you die while they are trying to fix you.
Mmmmm
I remember, that night before surgery, was one of the worst times of my life, I felt totally without any control of my life and was convinced that my survival the next day wasn't hopeful at all. It's a dreadful place to be, going over your life memories, texting family and close friends farewell and trying to make sense of these last few hours on the planet. Most people, even myself up until that point have no comprehension what it is like to be saying good-byes, convinced you are going to die.
Surgery day, 25 June 2019, lots of things going on, preparing for theatre, then at 14.00 on my way, saying a tearful goodbye to my wife and daughter, again thinking this is the last time I'm going to see them.
In the anaesthetic room, being stuck with needles and cannulas, trying to be calm, that's not easy when you think your life is about to be terminated. Drugs administered telling me here's something to help you relax and then,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,nothing!!!
A voice, "it's 11.00 pm, I'm going to remove your breathing tube", it felt like a cloth being dragged out of my stomach right out my mouth, not the nicest experience to wake up to, but hey, I'm alive!!!!!!!
Gathering my thoughts took several seconds, what's happened? Where am i? Who am I? Did I have surgery?
Oh yes, that's why I'm here, and on opening my eyes a bit. I saw pipes and wires and the wound dressing down the centre of my chest where my sternum had been cut open.
I had been out for 8-9 hours and was parched, so drank copious amounts of water offered by the nurse in the intensive care unit that I've spent coming round. I guess I drifted in and out of sleep throughout the night with the nurse checking me often. By morning I was fully aware of my situation, 2 lines in my neck, 3 drain tubes, a set of pacing wires connected to a box and a catheter, ECG pads and wires, blood pressure cuff and also the pretty uncomfortable pain in my chest when being moved for washing.
I didn't feel great, is that an understatement?
At lunchtime the nurses got me out of bed and into a chair to have food. This was done way too fast for my liking and seemed to have a bad affect which sent me very quickly downhill.
Doctors arrived and within minutes I was being transferred to the intensive trauma unit, more tests, more drugs, more anxiety,, I really am struggling for breath.
I was there for 24 hrs being stabilised again, the service was quite something, a medic literally has his or her desk right at the end of the bed monitoring and checking constantly.
Early morning on the 27th I was still struggling for breath, but incredibly, once I had sat myself gradually on the edge of the bed, breath flowed into my chest and what a relief that was. I sat for several minutes, I stood up and walked a few steps to a chair, had breakfast, then got moved to the normal recovery ward.
Over the next 5 days, lines were removed, drains and catheter removed and finally the pacing wires were pulled out.
I didn't find having the 2 large drains removed a pleasant experience, it really made me gasp.
Day 5 and I was on my way home, absolutely amazing,, I've had my chest opened up, my heart cut open and all stitched back up and I'm out of hospital in 5 days.
Now I thought that was the worst bit, which I guess it was, but the recovery is long and painful. I was expecting 3 months and to be back on track. How wrong could i be?
Even though I did regular exercise and felt my fitness improving, it is really slow, after 5 months I still got worn out having a shower and getting dried.
What I never expected with any of this is the psychological aspect. It really does mess with your head.
I can't explain it or work it out, but I am so happy and joyous one minute for being alive then terribly tearful the next because of the memories and pain I've endured, maybe the frustration of how slow recovery is, will I ever be fit again? Is the sporadic pounding in my chest normal,? Will the repair to my mitral valve fail? Will some other part of my heart start leaking? What about the pain in my chest that sometimes is quite bad?
Apparently this is normal for post op heart patients. But it's not normal for me, so I'm finding it very hard to cope at times. Am I depressed? I don't think so. Do I have PTSD? Maybe, but I've never had it before so don't know what it's like. What I do know is that I have so many mixed feelings and emotions, sometimes together, and have no idea how to feel. Should I see a doctor? I don't want a load of pills to wipe me out and hearing a doctor tell me it's ok and everything is normal. It's definitely not normal to feel like this. I don't sleep well, partly because I still have sternum pain, but it could be the anxiety niggling away in the background.
If anyone reads this and can relate to some or all of my experience, then I'd like to chat.
It's a reasonably long story because I was writing it as a memory for myself, so I can revisit just how awful OHS is, it's brutal !!!!
That organ that's been beating your whole life is deliberately stopped, cut open while your blood is diverted through pipes and oxygenators, before being pumped back through your body.
My heart was stopped,,,, I find that in itself a bizarre concept, and then these incredibly skilled surgeons opened it up, repaired broken chordae, fitted an annular ring, repaired a small hole before stitching it all back together, starting it and allowing blood to flow normally once more, checking for leaks, before wiring my sternum together and suturing the 8-9" chest skin cut.
I'll add more later
More Info About Me & My Heart
More About Me
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I am from:
Desborough, United Kingdom
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My surgery date is:
June 25, 2019
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I was diagnosed with:
Mitral Regurgitation
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My surgery was:
Mitral Valve Repair
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My hospital is:
Glenfield heart unit, Leicester. England
