On April 24, 2024 I had a heart attack. I woke up with severe pain across my chest. I tried several breathing and relaxation techniques in a foolish attempt to somehow control the pain I was experiencing. Ultimately, Kate drove me to the ER at St. Cloud Hospital.
I have never heard a story about someone walking into an ER that was empty. Usually you read horror stories about waits that last hours on end. But I walked into an empty one. They immediately hooked me up and got an EKG, took my vitals, and moved me into an ER suite.
An IV and a blood draw, some nitroglycerin under my tongue and again, a stronger pain reliever, a blood thinner and I was whisked off to get an angiogram.
I remember getting moved into the room where they were going to do the procedure. So many people! So many pieces of equipment! Someone shaved my pubes. A woman who identified herself as Dr. Cooper introduced herself to me and told me she was going to do the procedure. They gave me a cup with three small, yellowish pills which I swallowed, and moved me from my gurney to the table. (I remember pretty much the exact same thing from my first angiogram back in 2003.)
The next thing I know I’m waking up in a hospital room. To me it could have been 20 minutes later, but Kate says I was gone for around an hour and a half. Anesthesia is an amazing thing.
I can’t quite remember who informed me of the results, but I think it may have been Dr. Danielson who turned out to be my cardiac surgeon, that although my heart muscle and valves are all surprisingly healthy (surprising to me that is, given the rampant heart disease that runs in my father’s side of the family), but that I had arterial blockage of 90 and 95% in some of the veins in my heart, and that it would be necessary to perform a triple cardiac bypass operation as soon as possible.
Unfortunately we would have to wait until the blood thinner they’d had given me in the ER had flushed from my system, and that takes three days. Also, they do not perform cardiac bypass surgery, known as Cardiac Arterial Bypass Graft, or CABG (cabbage), on weekends, so I would have to wait until Monday to go under the knife. That meant spending the next four days in hospital as they worked to get me ready.
At this point most of my hospital stay is kind of a blur. I had so many wonderful visitors, family & friends came to my room to offer their support and love, and to wish me well. It was wonderful and a little overwhelming.
I was on IV heparin, a blood thinner, and nitroglycerin which dilates blood vessels, for four days. They took my vitals every couple of hours, and took so many blood samples that I lost count (not that I was actually counting). Hospital stays are not fun, although I must say that my nursing staff was top notch.
Monday, April 29, 2024, 6:30 AM. I am woken and prepped for surgery. It’s funny now how little of this process I remember. I was shaved from my chin to my ankles, including my privates. Kate and her brother Ted accompanied me down to pre-surgery. They put a mainline IV in my wrist that almost made me pass out, and then it was off to the operating room. They stuck some very chilly things to my butt, and my thighs, and then the nurse anesthetist said, “We’re going to give you some of those anti-pain drugs now.” And that’s the last thing I remember.
Surgery went very smoothly, apparently. They didn’t have to cut me as far down as with some bypass operations. I woke up in cardiac ICU. I remember them removing my breathing tube. I remember opening my eyes and seeing Kate first (I did that on purpose, locating her position above me with my ears). Seeing her first was very important to me.
I was so thirsty. Kate kept feeding me ice chips. I asked her if she could wrap some margarita around one of them. I was so very groggy and disoriented. I tried scratching my nose and kept missing. And I slept and slept, but would wake up with this tremendous thirst.
The next day they moved me back to cardiac care and I spent the next few days on pain meds (tramadol, oxy, and Tylenol), and attempting to get used to my new situation. I needed help getting in and out of bed, getting to and from the bathroom, and doing things that are a normal part of everyday life. But I got better each day. They released me four days later.
So now I am home. As I write this I am 13 days post-op. Apart from the discomfort of my incisions, three small ones in my left leg and the big one on my chest, I feel just fine. I am going for walks that have grown from ½ a block to one, then two, then three blocks. I am a little winded after each, but I feel myself getting stronger.
The hard part really is combating the boredom. I’ve watched a lot of movies, and a lot of baseball (go Twins!), and Kate and I have played a few games of cribbage. But I am very much looking forward to getting back to the Roastery, and especially to getting back on stage. I had to cancel 13 gigs in May due to this situation, and that really sucks.
Kate goes back to working half days at the bank next week. I am going to take it easy for another week, and then I’d like to get back to the Roastery aided by friends who have volunteered their time. I can do office work, and check the doneness of the beans, but I’m going to have to have an extra set of hands to do pretty much everything else. I am very fortunate to have the friends I have, they want me to get back to work and they’re willing to help me get there.
My hope and my goal is to get back on stage by mid-July. I don’t think that’s unobtainable. Stamina is going to be the thing to work on more than anything else, I think.
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