More Heartaches

Anatomy of the heart by Leonardo Da Vinci

Dad is still in a lot of pain. His aortic valves won't close all the way, and his heart is working too hard. 3 days after his cardioangiogram, he was taken to the hospital in an ambulance. That stubborn man! He even tried to walk to the ambulance. The EMTs were concerned, and finally convinced him to sit on the gurney after he spent all day in pain and collapsing. Mom and I are certain he suffers from "Marine-ism." Except this Marine is in his 70's with a bad heart. Semper Fi, Dad.

The doctors at the hospital did blood work to make sure he wasn't having a heart attack (he wasn't). Then he was told that all the surgeons were on vacation for Labor Day, and the thoratic surgeon is out of town for a week. Not only would Dad have to wait through that week being monitored at the hospital, he would then suffer another week at the mercy of scheduling until his valve replacement was in place. Fed up, Mom made the hospital fax all of his records to the heart institute in Tuscon, and made an appointment with one of their doctors for Dad on Wednesday. His open heart surgery will take place next week, if all goes well. We are just tired of waiting. This all could've been over and done by now, but the doctors here keep dragging their feet, adding to my dad's stress. And mine.

Unable to sleep while all of this is happening, my psychoses and depression have worsened. My pshrink decided to prescribe me a second sleeping pill with the warning that if I couldn't sleep, he would put me in the hospital. Poor Bryan has bronchitis, but still stands steadfastly by. He makes sure I know he will always be here and passes no judgment when I begin smiling at the air, or talking loudly in the other room. He's been amazing. I couldn't ask for a better companion. Still, the illness has taken a downturn. I feel myself shifting down on the uphill climb. One activity a day is too much for me right now. All I seem to be able to do is sit and stare. Painting is a tiny diversion, but my book has sat untouched for a week. All I can think about is my poor dad.

In anticipation for whatever result of the heart surgery, my very best buddy, Steph, will be flying in from California later this month. If Dad does well, he should be recovering and ready for visitors by then. If he dies on the table (even Mom has admitted this might happen), Steph will be here for the family to help take care of things while Mom becomes a disconsolate mess. Hopefully I can stay out of trouble until then.

With Bryan around, I just might make it.