After a heart catheterization, carotid artery sonogram, CT scan, x-rays, EKG, EEG and visits with his family physician, a cardiologist and a neurosurgeon, it was decided that Dad needed a pacemaker. Every test they ran came back normal. His cardiologist said his heart was pumping strong and his brain was good. There had not been a heart attack or a stroke. All they can figure out is that there must be a disconnect somewhere between the brain sending a "pump" signal and the heart receiving the "pump" signal; like corrosion somewhere on a spark plug wire. A pacemaker would jump start the heart should it stop.
The procedure was scheduled for Monday and the family that could began gathering: kids, grandkids and a greatgrandchild. The family physician and the cardiologist conferred again and made visits to Dad's hospital room, where we were asked if we had any questions. In the course of the conversation, Dad told his Dr. that the cardiologist had told him if he had another episode like this, he'd not survive. I heard Dad's voice break with emotion as he said this. He'd scared himself and he isn't ready to go. Dad agreed that this was what he wanted to do and so plans were made for later that morning. The cardiologist said those of us that inherited Dad's genes were lucky because of his strong heart. I asked Dad's family physician, who delivered my kids, if Dad would have the heart of a 35 year old when this was over. He said, "He already does!"
At 12:30 p.m. they wheeled Dad to the cath. lab and, after a prayer with Rev. Greg Rea from Mom and Dad's church, a kiss from Mom and a couple of "Love you, Dad"'s, the family and the minister headed to the waiting room. We chatted and were entertained by the great-granddaughter while Dad was given a local anesthetic and listened as the cardiologist and staff implanted the pacemaker in his chest. A little after 2:30, the cardiologist came out and told us Dad was fine. One of the wire leads did not want to cooperate and took a little extra work to get in place, but otherwise, the procedure had gone very well. We were all relieved and glad to hear Dad was OK. Phone calls and text messages to those that couldn't be there ensued.
When Dad got back to his room and settled in his bed, one of his nurses showed us a "not for human use" sample of the pacemaker Dad had received. In the photo below, you'll see the pacemaker resting in my brother's hand next to a quarter. The leads exit the clear plastic part at the top and are placed in the heart. A couple of hours later the cardiologist came in the room with a doodad on a cable that was connected to a computer. The Dr. wrapped the cable behind Dad's neck and placed the doodad over the pacemaker. There appeared on the computer screen two, if not three, lines of Dad's heartbeat and a dozen or so buttons that the Dr. pushed once, twice, sometimes three times in different combinations. Out came a double-wide cash-register-receipt-type print-out that I'm sure, means something to the cardiologist, but to my sister and I, looked like gobbledeegook. We are totally amazed at this whole pacemaker process and so impressed with the cardiologist. He's in there working on your heart, for crying out loud. And not only does he have to know how to maneuver around muscles in a chest and the heart, he then has to have training on that crazy computer readout machine.
Pacemaker - August 23, 2010
Dad was quite chipper when he got back to his room. Partly, I think, because the operation was over and because it had gone so well and because he felt some relief that if this happened again, there was help for his heart to keep beating. The next day Dad said he felt better than he did before the eposide on Friday. He'd even stayed awake from 7:00 a.m. when Mom and I arrived, until he was given the OK to leave. Dad thanked his Dr.'s several times, as well as the nursing staff, and by 1:00 Tuesday afternoon, he was happily headed home.
No comments:
Post a Comment