Walking in Daddy’s Shoes

MARCH 24, 2008 - I had about half a dozen subject lines for this one. I suppose the one that comes closest is the one I chose. This is not satire. This is not news and politics. This is life. This is me being selfish. This is my introspection verbalised after the day I had today.

Last night for supper I had chicken. I love chicken. It seemed a little suspicious to me, but I figured I was just being silly. Apparently I wasn’t. I was praying to the porcelain god 8 hours on the dot after I’d eaten.

I slept an extra hour this morning since I’d lost that hour, almost didn’t go to work at all, in fact, but remembered I had a medical appointment at 9.45, so I’d better get going. The walk from the office to the Olsen Center is a whopping whole 5 minutes, inside the buildings, no less.

The trip to see Laura was supposed to be routine. We were checking my blood pressure and preparing to do a meds adjustment if necessary. The BP was bad. She listened to my heart, and I saw in her eyes an “alarm” I think she didn’t want me to see. She told me my heart sounded a bit different and she wanted to schedule an ECHO for me. I figured, sure, a few days and I’ll have that ECHO. HELL no. It was immediate. Down two floors, past the coffee cart, to the Heart Center, and Laura said they were waiting for me, so don’t stop at the gift shop. (That was cute, but she meant it.)

I loved the girl who did the ECHO to pieces. Her name was Heidi. We chatted about stuff, and we ended up talking about reconstructive surgery, and she said she would be happy to recommend the doctor who had helped her son with his surgeries. He had some birth defects that needed repair, and she said this guy was marvellous. In the way she talked about this doctor, it made me think of another doctor I know whose talent and compassion is similar (too bad he’s in another state, and probably wouldn’t take on this project, anyway). I said, “Heidi, are you allowed to tell me what you see?” “Yep, not a problem. I can’t make any diagnoses, but I can sure tell you what I see.”

1. All four heart valves leak.

2. There is calcium buildup on both my mitral and aortic valves, and the aortic valve’s buildup is worse than the mitral.

3. Her exact words about the murmur: “Oooohhh that’s something you don’t see everyday!” I didn’t know what she meant, but the low whistle kind of made me think it wasn’t exactly one of those good things. She said it was hard to describe, but she could see that I’d had it all of my life, and that it had honestly changed especially recently. She said, “It used to go like this, didn’t it?” And she sort of made the original sound, and yes, indeedy, it did sound like that. Now it sounds squishy, and even more squishy and laboured than it did last month.

4. The left side of my heart is pumping at 40% instead of the normal 65-70%.

I have an appointment now with cardiologist Rebecca Villeneuve at 1.40 tomorrow. It seems we’re wasting no time with this. Certainly nobody is being casual about it.

In the meantime, no, I am not allowed to exercise or run. Crikey - like I needed an excuse NOT to run? My knees hurt bad enough as it is!

As a side note, there is another issue. In the past month, suddenly my right shoulder has started locking up, and if I push it, my arm and my neck on that side get stiff. It hasn’t just gotten progressively worse, it just went “creak!” and stopped, losing about 30% of my range of motion. Yes, we have an MRI for that and PT scheduled. Whatever happens with it, happens. I just would like to sleep on that side at night, like I used to.

So anyway, back to the heart thing, and this is where I become introspective. If medical science had been 25 years ago what it is now, I think Daddy would have been hearing from his doctors then what I am hearing now from Laura. The thing is, though, he didn’t hear these things from his doctors until about a week before he died. While this has not put the fear of God into me, it has startled me, and I don’t like it. I keep reminding myself I am not going to die next week, I’m really not. I can’t, because the house is a mess, Jack needs to be fed and walked, and I’m getting Lizard Ray.

But still, when a doctor tells you not to exercise, you start thinking. When someone tells you half your heart is pumping at 40%, you wonder. When you’re told all four of your heart valves are leaking, you kind of go, “WTF??????”

I would like to wake up in the morning and discover that the medical faery has fixed my shoulder and made my heart better - AND while we’re at it gifted me with new breasts and knock off the other 30 pounds that I have for backup.

And I want to be cute and ageless.

Might as well shoot for the moon, eh?