Observations on being (pretty) young, (pretty) fit, and having a damaged heart.
A few weeks back I went from being a fit, pretty active guy, who didn’t have a medical care in the world to someone with serious heart disease!
I was being treated for what I thought was an extended bout of acid reflux– and the farthest thing from my mind or worries was what it turned out I actually had: a 99% blockage of my LAD, the largest artery in the heart, ominously called “The Widow Maker,” and that the pains I felt were actually my heart crying out, deprived of half its blood.
One day after spectacularly failing an echo-stress test– a test I went off to grumbling to my wife, “You realize that there’s zero… ZERO chance that this is heart related, don’t you…!” and then trudged back to an hour later, completely stunned, “Honey, I think you should sit down…”– I was sent up to Yale University Hospital where they inserted not one, but two drug-coated stents to reopen my bloodflow. It’s a remarkably quick and non-invasive procedure, the catheter amazingly conducted through my wrist; one that requires virtually no recovery time, and seems hardly worthy of all the expressions of concern and sympathy that flooded in.
In fact, I was weirdly conscious for most of the time. I remember waking up from the light anesthesia I was administered and hearing the doctors discussing the size of the obstruction: an inch and a half in length and at the very beginning of the artery, even more dangerous. I watched them thread the stents from my wrist to my heart, tears forming in my eyes. When the nurse came around to wipe them, she asked if I was in pain. “No,” I answered, staring at the screen. “I’m just thinking I’m watching you guys saving my life.”
Just five weeks later, I’m back to a completely normal routine: working out, playing tennis, eating smarter, appreciating life. Just with a prodigious line-up of meds to take each day. And the only, non-white-haired member of my local stent club! It all happened so fast, there was no time to even get scared, worry about the consequences; to hug your kids. To remember that chapter idea I didn’t write down. It went by with the speed of TV coming attractions. It was literally forty eight hours from diagnosis to cure.
So I’ve been waiting for that singular moment of profundity; that “a-ha” epiphany of what it’s all about, that always comes to me when I need a plot idea, but fails me now when it’s about my life.
Yet what I do think about is this: the many times I had to put up a hand, doubled over during a workout or on the tennis court with my pro– grabbing at the fence, trying to catch my breath, in pain. I see myself crumbling to the ground, realizing something far more serious is happening; thinking how my grandfather died this way, just off the golf course, and seeing myself, a virtual kid compared to him, looking up at the my helpless pro, tears glazing in my eyes, my mind going on about my kids, something trivial like whether I put the steaks in the freezer; stories I meant to write.
The only NYT bestselling author to ever die from acid reflux….
I would never have even known.
Except in this story I get up. Finish out the set. The coming attractions come on, and thank God, there’s another episode next week! I get to wonder who’s cheated who, death or me? I think about the two doctors I may never ever see again who gave me a new downpayment on life. Who let me pretend I’ve got it by the balls again.
But this time I know– I’m only renting.
October 12, 2011 at 3:59 pm |
Thank goodness you had a doctor who was savvy enough to send you for the echo. So glad you are up and going again!
October 12, 2011 at 4:35 pm |
You are so very lucky!! Same thing happened to my husband last April..his was in his stomach and arms..he didn’t even make the stress test. He had one stent put in and is like a new man. He did do the therapy also which really helped. He was so lucky that there was NO damage to his heart..Glad you are o.k..
Take Care,
Sandy F
October 12, 2011 at 5:03 pm |
Thanks for sharing your story, Andy. Your family must be so relieved that you sailed through what couldve been an awful awful ending…There’s a lesson for everyone in this…to not ignore symptoms as you could be your own life saver!
October 12, 2011 at 5:24 pm |
Wow! May the rest of your blog entries be dull as mud. Here’s to leaving the drama to fiction.
October 13, 2011 at 1:51 pm |
I’m so very glad that the Dr’s realized soon enough and were able to treat you and make you healthy and keep you where you should be.
January 14, 2012 at 6:26 pm |
Just noticed your stent post. 13 years ago I had the same experience. Heavy duty exercising 5 days a week. Didn’t have the acid reflux experience, just shortness of breath. At the time,I was working at LSU Med School and went to one of my docs with the symptoms. Long story short – LAD blockage. They wanted to crack my chest because of the location, but I insisted not and ended up with one stent. (The ‘funny’ part was when the surgeon who wanted to do the open heart operation walked into my hospital room after the angiogram, it was a guy I worked out with all the time at the school. His first words: “What are you doing here?”)
Afterwards, I had numerous tests to determine why it happened, because I had no risk factors at all. They never could find out why, except much later I heard about stress and anger as a possible cause.
Just to let you know, if you keep exercising and watch you diet, you’ll be OK for years. I’ve had no problems in 13 years. Just took up scuba diving 3 years ago.
February 19, 2012 at 12:48 am |
I just read about your “adventure” and am so grateful that you’re OK. My son, at 43, wasn’t. He died of a massive heart attack October 28, 2000… the sweetest, nicest most compassionate person to walk this earth. He is still missed tremendously. If you’re married long enough, one of you will die first. That’s the normal way of things… but not outliving your child. That never should be. There is nothing worse. Take GOOD care of yourself, Andy; you’ve been given another chance. If I read you right, your mom will kill you if anything happens to you, so you’d best take good care.