It happened October 27, 2013. The heart attack was mild, relatively speaking. As if bladder cancer hadn’t been enough to deal with in 2013, now this. I had just gotten home from church, having finished off my 2nd delicious raspberry jelly filled donut (don't judge me) and wham. I started feeling really bad. Chest pain: much worse than the indigestion that is a normal part of my everyday life (though usually in the evening). I felt lightheaded and just basically bad, and it wasn't because of the Broncos. They were winning. Both arms ached. My jaw hurt like I'd just gone a round with Muhammad Ali. I didn't really want to get hit with yet another ER bill, but Cathy and I agreed this was not normal and I should go to the hospital. It was good that we did.
Cathy got a neighbor from across the street to help me out to the car. I don't remember much about the drive to the hospital. It only took about 5 minutes to get there from our house, but I must have been pretty much out of it. Now keep in mind that this was just a week or so after my urologist started me on new meds that were supposed to get rid of a TB infection in my prostate (MORE ABOUT THAT LATER). The meds themselves can have some nasty side effects, particularly to the liver, so I'm thinking to myself, "this must have something to do with these new drugs". And...I can hardly go 30 minutes without having to pee. Well, nothing in an ER happens in 30 minutes, so I'm kinda freaking out about having to pee. But as it turns out, if you say you think you're having a heart attack, they move things along pretty fast...too fast.
"Hey, wait a sec guys, I've got to pee!"
"Don't have time for that sir, you're having a heart attack."
"But if you’d just let me pee" I said, "I'd be so much better". This goes on and on while they're wheeling me into the cardiac cath lab to prep me for an emergency stint procedure.
Since I was complaining so much, they finally decided to do the "other" kind of catheter, the kind I'm far too familiar with by now after almost a year of them. Except these folks don't have much experience putting them in. No numbing lubricant available and despite the nurses' repeated attempts; no joy (literally). She finally gave up and said, if you have to pee, just go ahead and pee, I'll put a towel over you. Hmmm, something about the body just has a real problem releasing pee when it knows it's the wrong time and wrong place (at least once you're potty trained).
So, I'm lying there squirming and the doctor is trying to make an incision in my groin so he can run a catheter up my vein or artery (I can't remember which) to my heart so he can implant a stint to open up what he says is an 80% blockage in my LAD (left anterior descending) coronary artery. But I can't hold still because, well, I've GOT to PEE!
The doctor said sternly “DON'T MOVE!”
I said, "I'm trying."
He said again "DON'T TRY -- DON'T MOVE!!" with not a whole lot of sympathy for my situation. I figure, he's got a very sharp knife and I've already been circumcised. I don't want him to accidentally take off anything more, so I’d better lay still. Plus, I'm causing him to miss the Broncos game against the Redskins. I'm in deep doo doo if I don't hold still.
It seemed like an eternity but in reality, before long, it was over. They were wheeling me to a room in intensive care and lo and behold, a funny shaped plastic bottle with a handle shows up.
"Here, use this if you have to."
"Now?" I ask.
"Well, if you have to." Thanks a lot.
So, I got to stay at the hospital for a couple days and learn all about why the words "jelly donuts" should never be spoken by me again in the same sentence as the words "I'll take two of those delicious raspberry ___ please. Thank you." All things considered; Saint Anthony North Hospital was amazing. So nice, considerate and encouraging. Very professional. I highly recommend them to anyone considering having a heart attack. Seriously. Good people, good care, and wonderful follow-up cardiac rehab staff.
The thing about the bladder cancer is; since the second surgery a year ago when my urologist decided that they had gotten all the cancer out, in addition to undergoing a series of BCG treatments, he has taken out a small lump for a biopsy during a scheduled cystoscopy, and another about two months ago in a 3rd surgery. The biopsies have all come back negative. So, as best I can tell, I'm cancer free. But for those very few unlucky ones of us, the treatments I had been taking (BCG - a tuberculosis virus infused to stimulate the immune system into aggressive attack mode) results in some painful side effects or even more rare, a TB infection of the prostate. Odds are slim to get that, but since I failed to buy a winning lottery ticket last year, the next best opportunity for me to beat the odds was TB. Major bummer. I began having awful pain in June that finally was so unbearable that my doctor concluded that despite the low odds, I was probably experiencing a BCG prostatitis infection and prescribed a drug regimen to deal with it. Of course, that also meant the end of the BCG treatments for me.
At last, the pain receded about the same time as the heart attack. A welcome consolation prize if nothing else.
Since the heart attack, I'm trying to eat better. I’ve also started taking a daily supplement called Vemma that a friend introduced to me. I'm getting regular exercise 3 days a week, and I really am feeling great, at least above the belt. Below the belt, some days are still worse than others. But in general, I'm feeling better all the time in the southern hemisphere as well. I've even lost about 15 pounds. My barber asked me today why I was losing so much weight. I think I was scaring him.
So, 2013 proved to be an eye-opening year. Along with Cathy's breast cancer (which was successfully treated with a lumpectomy and radiation), we've learned that good health is not something to be taken for granted. We've been so blessed with good health our whole lives that we really had very little framework to relate to those who have had to deal with issues far worse than ours. I'm sure that we'll be better able to empathize with and perhaps more effectively minister to people in tough health situations because of ... 2013.
