Category Archives: Matters of the Heart

The true and continuing story of the journey my husband and I have been traveling since 1985. Heart problems can strike at any time. It’s not an easy thing to go through. But we continue on with the help of our family, our friends, and some very wonderful doctors.

Matters of the Heart, Part 13

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At the end of our last installment we were arriving at the hospital at an early hour to check Ben in for his heart catheterization procedure. It wasn’t his first one, or second, or even third. I think I’ve lost count by now.

But each time I’m nervous. Something about this particular test just makes me a bit antsy. The idea of running a tiny catheter into an artery up into the heart unnerves me, to say the least. I know it’s done all the time, and the doctor doing this one is an expert with it, but still, it’s one of the procedures that just scares me if I think about it.

(After all, I’m the one who almost fainted when I watched our four year old daughter have blood drawn before her tonsillectomy. Didn’t bother her, but it sure did me! And I still can’t watch the nurses start an IV or draw blood! And if it’s on me…..you don’t want to know!)

But I did get to stay back in the prep area with him, and yes, I looked away when the needles appeared. He was calm, and hungry, since he couldn’t eat before the procedure, and just wanted it done and over with!

We hadn’t yet met the doctor who would be doing the cath, and eventually the valve replacement itself, but when he came in to talk to us before the procedure, he instantly gave us a lot of peace, and certainly put my mind at ease, or as much as possible. Dr. T had a wonderful bedside manner, a great personality, and explained everything they were going to do, and why, and the next steps that were involved in getting the valve taken care of.

As long as this procedure showed no blockages of the arteries or other problems, they would need an ultrasound of the carotid arteries, a pulmonary function test to check his lung capacity, a CT scan of his chest and abdomen, and a specialized set of dental X-rays to be sure there was no infection in the mouth or teeth. Fortunately two of those next tests could possibly be done that day, and as long as the cath results were good, he would try to have them scheduled to be done before we left the hospital, which was encouraging. The other two would have to be scheduled probably the following week or so.

After he had reviewed all the results, there would then be a consultation with all of the surgical team that would be involved at the Heart Hospital where the operation would take place. There would be 3-4 surgeons from two different cardiology practices involved, as well as the anesthesiologists, the pulmonologists, nurses, etc. It was enough to make our heads spin… And we would be there as well listening to all this and asking questions as they decided how to best operate on my husband!

Questions?

Yes, a lot of them. But where to start. The biggest one, however, was when this could be done and why we had to go through all of this when everyone knew the valve had to be replaced?!

Quite simply, they have to make sure to determine the best and safest way to do this, especially since he’s had two open heart surgeries before. And you can’t just take him in, open him up, and say “ok, how are we going to do this?”

That makes sense, except when your husband is the one going through it all.

The cath procedure was actually quicker than I anticipated. In fact, we were called back to talk with the doctor probably about 45 minutes after they took him to have it done. Which sort of worried me, especially when we waited in the consultation room for about 15 minutes before the doctor came in. Of course that had something to do with having to wait so long for news from the ablation surgery when we later discovered they’d had trouble stopping the bleeding….

Fortunately that wasn’t the case this time. In fact, as Dr. T told us, the procedure went very well, and from what he saw, Ben was a candidate for the valve replacement by going through the arteries in the groin! Good news!

Because our daughter had arrived after the doctor had talked to us before the procedure, he went through the same basic scenario he’d told Ben and me earlier, except that he was now putting in orders for two of the tests to be done that day if possible, while we were still at the hospital, since Ben would have to be there until at least 1:00. (Catheterization patients are required to stay flat on their backs for 4 hours after the procedure so that the collagen plug used to close the point of entry will stay secure and no bleeding will start.)

Of course he asked if there were any questions, and Ashley being Ashley, she had one very important point to make. “We know he needs the surgery, so you need to get it scheduled as soon as possible. I’m having this baby May 1, so his operation needs to be done now, and he needs to be able to be there that day so he can hold Ryleigh!”

Dr. T just smiled and assured her they’d do what they could to make that happen. but they all wanted the best for her dad, so they’d see what they could do….

And by the way, she wasn’t kidding! Not at all!

Fortunately they were able to do the carotid artery ultrasound shortly thereafter. Since our pregnant daughter was still there they were joking around about checking to see if there was a baby in there, and if it was twins! At least he was still maintaining his sense of humor.

Which continued when he had his pulmonary function test, as he and the technician discussed which wines they liked and what Italian food they wanted for dinner. That test, however, wore him out because of the effort it took for him to take deep breaths and then blow them out quickly. I couldn’t help but wonder how bad those test results were going to be.

Finally, after spending over ten hours at the hospital, we were on our way home. Ben was exhausted, and I was tired as well as stressed. Although we had some hopeful news, we still had to wait for the other two tests, as well as for the doctors to get together and decide what to do and when to do it.

We were still in a holding pattern, and Ben continued to get more exhausted every day, and his shortness of breath slowly increased.

I was anxious and worried, and could only imagine how he felt….

The story continues in Matters of the Heart, Part 14, to be published April 14.

Don’t miss the previous stories in this series:
Matters of the Heart, Part 1
Matters of the Heart, Part 2
Matters of the Heart, Part 3
Matters of the Heart, Part 4
Matters of the Heart, Part 5
Matters of the Heart, Part 6
Matters of the Heart, Part 7
Matters of the Heart, Part 8
Matters of the Heart, Part 9
Matters of the Heart, Part 10
Matters of the Heart, Part 11
Matters of the Heart, Part 12

Matters of the Heart, Part 12

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If you’ve been a regular follower of this series, you already know how much cardiac problems can affect not only the individual going through them, but their family and friends.

Symptoms of heart disease or other heart issues are lived with on a daily basis by the individual experiencing it. Their symptoms can sometimes be controlled by medication, but not always. And their family lives with it as well, on an emotional basis.

It’s not easy for anyone involved.

Particularly the individual waiting for test results, for the correct medication to start making a difference, waiting for decisions on surgery or similar procedures. Figuring out how they can afford the medication their doctor has prescribed when their health insurance doesn’t pay very much for certain lifesaving drugs that are terribly expensive!

And waiting to have tests that will help determine the next step in treatment can seem like forever.
However, I must also confess that having to put the cath off because of risk of infection really did a number on my emotions. I’d been so anticipating getting answers that day, and having to wait really started to depress me!

And unfortunately that’s a normal reaction when the stress has piled up so much, and you had a certain date when it should end, and then it suddenly changed. And we had another almost three weeks to wait. When Ben called his dentist about his aching tooth on Monday morning, they couldn’t get him in until the next day. Meanwhile, his catheterization was rescheduled for two and a half weeks later. Plenty of time to get everything under control, right?

So we thought. When he saw our dentist, Dr. K informed him that yes, the tooth was abscessed, and he needed a root canal and a crown. Plus the one beside it was also starting to get infected from that one beside it….

Two and a half hours later he was on his way back home with antibiotics, a numb mouth from the root canal, and a headache. Because his mouth was so swollen from the infection he had to wait and go back again the end of the week to get the impression made for the permanent crown, but we should still be fine timewise, since we had almost three weeks. And the doctor couldn’t do the catheterization unless he had the permanent crown in place because of the risk of infection.

Of course the best laid plans often go haywire. The permanent crown was supposed to be back on the following Friday. And guess what…on Friday Ben got a personal call from our dentist, very upset, because the crown wasn’t there. The person who was supposed to be following up on it didn’t. And Dr. K was going out of town that weekend and not scheduled to be back until the following Wednesday night. Which meant the cath would have to be rescheduled again….

But we have a phenomenal dentist, who we’ve been going to for 22+ years, so he changed his travel plans to fly back home Tuesday morning before the cath on Thursday and put the permanent crown on.

Then…guess what…another phone call Tuesday around noon. His plane was delayed because of all the storms throughout the country. He wouldn’t be back in town until at least 7:00-8:00 that night.

So now we had to switch to Plan C, or maybe even Plan D. His dentist appointment was rescheduled to Wednesday at 6:15. Ok, we can do that. The cath wasn’t until Thursday morning.

Until another call on Wednesday around 4:00, this time personally from Dr. K apologizing profusely because his earlier patient had some serious issues and their appointment would take longer than planned….
So at 8:00 that night we finally met our favorite dentist at his office and 15 minutes later Ben had his permanent crown! In time for the next day’s procedure!

You just can’t make this stuff up!

But thankfully, Ben would now be able to have the cath, so the next morning we arrived at the hospital at 7:00 am and checked him in to the Heart Center at the hospital.

Finally we’d start getting some answers! It was about time!

And the saga continues in Matters of the Heart, Part 13, to be published April 11.

Don’t miss the previous stories in this series:
Matters of the Heart, Part 1
Matters of the Heart, Part 2
Matters of the Heart, Part 3
Matters of the Heart, Part 4
Matters of the Heart, Part 5
Matters of the Heart, Part 6
Matters of the Heart, Part 7
Matters of the Heart, Part 8
Matters of the Heart, Part 9
Matters of the Heart, Part 10
Matters of the Heart, Part 11

Matters of the Heart, Part 11

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This is as good a time as any to talk about the emotional toll the last 12 months have taken on us. Or should I say on me. I know it has on Ben as well, but I cannot write from his perspective.

As I said before, these heart issues affect the patient physically, but also all of our emotions, our daily lives. It’s stressful, not only on the person actually experiencing the problems, but on family and friends. It can change the course of your entire lives. It certainly has ours.

And it’s continuing to do so, and most likely will continue for some time, as our story continues.

I cannot speak for Ben, because all I know is what he tells me, which is not a lot, or often, unless I ask, and keep asking. I know he’s worried, and I’m sure he’s scared, but I also know he’s trying to protect me from those fears.

After all, he has all of the physical symptoms to contend with, and the actual surgery, as well as the emotional stress. That has to be even worse.

Of course, I don’t tell him a lot either about how I’m feeling, because I don’t want to worry him. Or upset him. However, with all we’ve been through recently, and all we’re getting ready to go through, I think it’s time to talk about it.

Because all of this takes more of a toll on you than you realize. A lot more.

There are times that your mind starts racing, imaging all kinds of things that could happen. “What if’s” are hard to stop, once you start thinking about them all.

What if he’s not able to have the surgery the least invasive way? What if he has to have his chest cut open a third time? How dangerous is that, really?

How long will it take him to recover? What will be involved in his recovery this time? How am I going to take care of him as well as help our daughter who’ll most likely be having her second baby by C-section about that same time? Her husband can’t do it all and work at the same time.

Will Ben be able to continue doing the things he enjoys? Will he be able to continue to work, even though it’s only part time, and how long will it be until he can go back? What happens if he can’t?

We have a two story home. Should we start planning to sell it? Where would we move? What could we afford if he can’t work? And how in the world could we physically accomplish that actual moving without a ton of help?

And the really tough ones I don’t want to think about…should we update our wills before the surgery? Our medical directives?

What if he ends up eventually needing a heart transplant? How would we be able to handle that? I can’t even fathom it, but yes, your mind goes there as well. Several people have even innocently asked me that question without knowing all of the story.

And then there’s that thought that worms its way into my mind in the early hours of the morning when I just can’t sleep…what if he doesn’t make it?

It’s natural to have those thoughts, those fears, especially with all we’re going through. He’s my husband. I love him. And I’m worried.

There are a lot of nights I wake up and listen to be sure he’s breathing. I remember a good friend of my mother’s whose husband had severe heart problems saying the same thing. Now I know what she meant.

There are those who’ve told me that I don’t have enough faith; that I’m not trusting the Lord enough. That if I really believed I wouldn’t be worrying because I’d know my husband was going to be all right. That I need to pray more. That if we prayed more the Lord might heal him without surgery.

I’m sorry. Please don’t tell me these things. Or anyone else going through something like this. Don’t insult me or try to tell me I don’t have the faith you do, because that’s what you’re actually saying. You are actually judging without even realizing it. Unless someone is actually experiencing it, they really have no idea.

They aren’t in my place. They haven’t been in my place. And I hope they never are. Because if they were, or they had been, they’d most likely see things differently.

I trust my Lord. I believe in the power of prayer, and I’ve seen it work. Many times. And I do pray for him. But there are times that our humanness comes out and we get scared. We go through the “what if’s” and we find our minds going in places we don’t want to be. We cry. Sometimes we cry til there are no more tears. Many, like me, are careful to not let anyone see us cry, because we don’t want our weakness and fears to show to other people. We want to appear strong, when on the inside we’re crumbling.

But those feelings are there, and they don’t go away.

That’s reality. That’s how it is. And when you really aren’t sure what you’re facing; when you know there are risks; and that those risks may have to be taken, it puts you in a place you don’t want to be.

And getting out of that place is hard. Very hard. It doesn’t make me less of a person, or less of a believer. It reminds me that I’m human.

We will get through this with the love and support of family and close friends. With very good, excellent, dedicated medical teams at one of the top heart hospitals on the East Coast. And because of our faith we will look back on this and say, “We survived another one!”

Thank you all for your support so far. It means more than you know.

And the saga continues in Matters of the Heart, Part 12, to be published April 8.

Don’t miss the previous stories in this series:
Matters of the Heart, Part 1
Matters of the Heart, Part 2
Matters of the Heart, Part 3
Matters of the Heart, Part 4
Matters of the Heart, Part 5
Matters of the Heart, Part 6
Matters of the Heart, Part 7
Matters of the Heart, Part 8
Matters of the Heart, Part 9
Matters of the Heart, Part 10

Matters of the Heart, Part 10

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If you’ve been following my stories in this series, by now you’re probably wondering when this saga is going to end.

Well, so are we. And I can’t answer that yet. I wish I could.

When you’re dealing with a hurting heart, a damaged heart, you just never know. And when the damage is caused by rheumatic fever at an early age, it just seems the older we get, the more problems which seem to occur.

It’s not easy by any means. It’s very difficult for the patient because they’re the ones going through the physical part, the exhaustion, the procedures, the pain, as well as the emotional stress of wondering when they’ll ever feel normal again.

For the family, it’s a different kind of stress. We worry. We’re anxious. We feel the stress in different ways. These feelings are normal. And as much as we try to hide them from our loved ones, because we don’t want to worry them any more, well, it makes things even harder. We try not to show our stress, but sometimes we just can’t help it.

Waiting to have the cath was like that for us. Surely we could wait the two and a half weeks. It’s not a long time, right? Well in this case, yes it was. We just wanted answers. And for Ben to feel better.

Then we found out those answers weren’t going to be as quick as we’d like.

Because of his history with two previous open heart surgeries, he has what is termed a “hostile chest,” because of the scar tissue and two sets of wires holding his rib cage together. This condition makes a third open heart surgery more troublesome and complicated. More risky.

Therefore, they need to go in through the femoral artery in the groin if at all possible to do the valve replacement to avoid complications, and make it easier on the doctors as well as the patient. But in Ben’s case….nothing is ever simple!

Meeting with his primary cardiologist a week before the cath was scheduled confirmed that. The procedure they were hoping to do is called TAVR, or transcatheter aortic valve replacement. Never heard of it? Neither had we.

Simply put, it involves inserting a catheter with the new valve thru the femoral artery in the groin and replacing the valve that way, without having to open up the chest cavity. In Ben’s case this would be the best way to do the surgery, but he has to be a good candidate for it. And that can only be determined by a series of tests, starting with the heart cath, which looks at not only the valve but the arteries to be sure there is only minimal plaque buildup. If there was too much blockage that would prevent him from being a candidate for the procedure unless the blockage was handled first.

If the cath results were good, he would then need four other tests to be done, all of which would be analyzed in conjunction with the cath results by a team of surgeons to determine if the TAVR would be acceptable in his case.

Four other tests??? How long would that take?

Fortunately those tests are relatively quick and non invasive, but still, there is time involved. There is a pulmonary function (breathing) test, carotid artery ultrasound, a CT scan of the chest and abdomen, and X-rays of the mouth to be sure there are no bacterial infections in his teeth which could lead to that infection going directly to the heart.

Why didn’t we know all of this before? Good question. But nothing is ever simple when dealing with cardiac issues. It seems we learn something new with every doctor visit, every procedure.

The catheterization was scheduled for President’s Day, Monday, February 18. We were so looking forward to that day, getting the results and being able to move forward quickly with the other tests, and hopefully schedule the replacement. Everything was on track. We thought.

Until Ben woke up with a horrible throbbing toothache Saturday morning before the procedure. Of course… And the dentist’s office was closed, of course, and we couldn’t find our dentist’s cell phone number, which we had somewhere. Which meant he was in pain all weekend. I made him call the cardiologist’s office to tell them, and, you guessed it! The cath was cancelled due to the risk of the infection from his abscessed tooth going to his heart. Now he was not only short of breath, and exhausted, but his tooth was throbbing, making it difficult to eat, and giving him a pounding headache.

What next? How much longer would all of this take?

You just can’t make this up, as you will read in Matters of the Heart, Part 11, to be published April 4.

Don’t miss the previous stories in this series:
Matters of the Heart, Part 1
Matters of the Heart, Part 2
Matters of the Heart, Part 3
Matters of the Heart, Part 4
Matters of the Heart, Part 5
Matters of the Heart, Part 6
Matters of the Heart, Part 7
Matters of the Heart, Part 8
Matters of the Heart, Part 9

Matters of the Heart, Part 9

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As I said in the last episode, there’s an old song that says “Only love can break a heart. Only love can mend it again.”

True, but not true.

While the lyrics are good, and the tune is one you remember, the truth of the matter is a bit more complicated. While love can certainly break your emotional heart, the damage by rheumatic fever, congestive heart failure, and other heart diseases can do far more and much longer lasting damage than love could ever think about.

The physical damage to your heart is much harder, much more painful, and longer lasting than any emotional damage.

You don’t want to find that out for yourself. Because it’s hard. Really, really hard. It’s a process, and a long one.

After the results of the echo were determined, the next step was scheduling the trans esophageal echocardiogram (TEE) that would hopefully determine when and what kind of surgery he’d have to have to correct the leaking valve.

So we thought. But it’s never that simple when dealing with matters concerning the heart.

The TEE was scheduled on a Tuesday around 1:00. Because he would be only lightly sedated for the procedure, an overnight stay wouldn’t, or shouldn’t, be necessary. So we went to the hospital late that morning suspecting a fairly quick in and out procedure with the results giving us a clear picture of the next step. Maybe even getting something scheduled.

Surprisingly, I was able to stay in the prep area with him until it was time to actually do the TEE. And it was quick. Seemed I’d no sooner stepped out so they could begin when the nurse called me back again because it was over. Ben had been exhausted that morning, so the light sedation has put him right to sleep! In fact, the nurse assisting his doctor told him in the twelve years she’d been doing these tests, he was the first patient who’d ever gone totally to sleep! Go figure…

The doctor was there and waiting for me when I came back to the room. Ben was already awake and ready to hear the results. And so was I.

But they weren’t quite like we were expecting. The doctor explained that the valve was definitely leaking, which accounted for his shortness of breath and his fatigue. What we hadn’t thought about though, or even considered, was that the valve was leaking not from the center, as the two previous times, but on the side where the sutures were from where the replacement valve had been sewn in some 16 years before. He even drew us a picture on the whiteboard that was in the cubicle to describe what he meant. He explained the sutures were starting to unravel, resulting in the leakage.

And, to further complicate the matter, because of exactly where the leakage was would make it more difficult to replace the valve transcutaneously, or through the veins in the groin, since the valve is normally inserted in the middle of the old one and then “ballooned” out to make a tight fit. (No I don’t think that’s quite the term he used, but that’s all I can remember.)

Plus, to make things even more complicated, it appeared the aorta might also be in need of repair, and that couldn’t be fully determined until Ben underwent a heart catheterization to better see just what needed to be done. And that would have to be done by another doctor who specialized in those procedures.

We got answers, yes, but the answers only led to more questions.

As a former seamstress, my first thought was how long did we have before more sutures started coming out, since I was imagining the stitches unraveling like stitches from a sewing machine when the thread was pulled! Obviously he’d been asked that before, as he explained these were individual sutures, and not subject to the unraveling. However, once some of them started loosening, they would all continue to do so, and it had to be handled. “Fortunately it’s not an emergency, but it is going to require surgery in the near future. We just have to determine how it needs to be done. That’s what the cath is for. It will help determine which way to do it.”

So on to scheduling the cath. Two and a half long weeks to wait because the cath doctor was on vacation and then he was totally booked the following week. Well, I guess that wasn’t bad; at least they weren’t rescheduling someone else to get Ben in because he was in bad enough shape to have the procedure done immediately.

Of course, for him, it meant that much longer to be miserably exhausted and short of breath all the time. His quality of life was definitely not as good as we’d both like, but we had to deal with it for a few more weeks.

So we thought…but we missed that one comment, “have to determine which way….” And making that determination wasn’t going to be as easy as we thought.

And it continues in Matters of the Heart, Part 10, to be published April 1.

Don’t miss the previous stories in this series:
Matters of the Heart, Part 1
Matters of the Heart, Part 2
Matters of the Heart, Part 3
Matters of the Heart, Part 4
Matters of the Heart, Part 5
Matters of the Heart, Part 6
Matters of the Heart, Part 7
Matters of the Heart, Part 8

Matters of the Heart, Part 8

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There’s an old song that says “Only love can break a heart. Only love can mend it again.”

Not necessarily.

While the lyrics are good, and the tune is one you remember, the truth of the matter is a bit more complicated. While love can certainly break your emotional heart, the damage by rheumatic fever, congestive heart failure, and other heart diseases can do far more and much longer lasting damage than love could ever think about.

The physical damage to your heart is much harder, much more painful, and longer lasting than any emotional damage.

You may not believe it, but trust me, it’s very true.

If you’ve been following the stories in Parts 1 through 7, you know what we have been through so far, and can only imagine the emotional stress we’ve been through, especially over the last few years. And it’s still going on.

When the six month period after the ablation surgery was over, we really thought his problems had been solved, and started to breathe a sigh of relief.

Until one day in the middle of January when he woke up absolutely exhausted. He said he felt like someone had drained all the energy out of him, and he was having shortness of breath. He looked tired, and I was very concerned about him. He was able to get an appointment with his primary doctor the next day, where he found out he’d gained 16 pounds in three months, which is totally unlike him.

Knowing his history of fluid retention and congestive heart failure, his fluid pills were immediately increased, and he was told to see his cardiologist as soon as possible, just to rule out any heart problems.

Why didn’t he catch it before it got to this point? Because he’d been doing so well, he’d stopped the routine of checking his weight every day. And it was the holiday season where everyone seems to add on a few pounds. But not 16 in three months!!!

And yes, when he told me all this, I immediately knew what was wrong. Call it intuition, instinct, or thinking the worst because of all we’d been though, but I just knew what I knew that I knew.

We were able to get an appointment with his regular cardiologist within a week due to a cancellation. By that time he was feeling worse. He’d already dropped 3-4 pounds from the fluid pills, but he had to take a nap every afternoon when he got home from work or else he couldn’t function that evening. He was getting increasingly short of breath as well as lighthearted and sometimes dizzy when he bent over and then stood up.

Obviously something was quite wrong. Again. And I was pretty sure I knew what it was. I think he did, too, but he didn’t want to think about it.

When we got to his appointment the nurse did an EKG as part of the check in process, but of course we had no idea what it revealed.

His doctor came in and as Ben described his symptoms I couldn’t help but notice the slight change in Dr. S’s demeanor. I knew he was worried. I could tell as he listened to Ben’s heart and lungs. He told him he heard a heart murmur, and wanted him to have a chest x-ray and an echocardiogram as soon as we could get it scheduled to determine what was going on.

Now imagine how we felt when, as we were checking out and trying to get the appointments made, Dr. S came out and told us he wanted the X-ray immediately, and the echocardiogram within 48 hours! And told the scheduler to find an open appointment at one of two locations. He told us after reviewing his history again, and considering how pronounced the murmur was, which had NOT been there at his last checkup 3 months previously, he didn’t want to wait.

So we went across the street to the imaging center and had the x-ray done and the appointment for the echo two days later.

The chest X-ray was good, all things considered. There was fluid, but no worse than what the doctor had heard through his stethoscope. And yes, that was good news!

Then came the echo. I was actually able to watch this one being done, as I had several other times. I’m certainly not a medical technician, or doctor, but I could see some of the leakage as the technician did the test.

Of course, we had to wait for the doctor’s office to call with the results, which took longer than we thought because the office hadn’t notified Dr. S that they were there to read! And all the time Ben just kept getting more and more tired and more short of breath. And I was more and more concerned.

Then we got the call. A personal call from Dr. S himself. I’d just gotten home and we put the call on speaker so we could both talk and ask questions. The news was what I expected. The valve was leaking. Just like 15-16 years ago. Which would mean surgery….again.

The question now was how it would have to be done because of his two previous open heart surgeries. We’d always joked around that when his valve had to be replaced again, the way medical technology was advancing, it would probably be done as an outpatient!

It’s a great idea, but medical science isn’t quite there yet. If only that were true…

So more testing was called for. Of course. Starting with a TEE, or trans esophageal echocardiogram, in which a scope with a camera is inserted down the esophagus (while the patient is in a twilight sleep) to enable the doctor to better see inside the heart and determine exactly how bad the valve is leaking, and if there are other problems that will need correction.

And the wait for answers continued, but this time we were especially antsy, because we wanted to just get it done and over with. And he continued to become increasingly tired, short of breath, and lightheaded….

More to come in Matters of the Heart, Part 9, to be published March 28.

Don’t miss the previous stories in this series:
Matters of the Heart, Part 1
Matters of the Heart, Part 2
Matters of the Heart, Part 3
Matters of the Heart, Part 4
Matters of the Heart, Part 5
Matters of the Heart, Part 6
Matters of the Heart, Part 7

Matters of the Heart, Part 7

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By now you’ve determined that once a heart begins having problems, it’s likely to continue as you get older. Especially if that heart was damaged by illness or other problems.

But these heart issues also affect our emotions, as well as our physical bodies. It’s stressful, not only on the person actually experiencing the problems, but family and friends. It can change the course of your entire lives. It certainly has ours.

And it’s continuing to do so, and most likely will continue to do so for some time.

After the ablation procedure Ben had to take it easy for several days. He couldn’t pick up our yorkies, or our granddaughter. He couldn’t go back to work until the following week. He was told he’d probably be tired, and some of the new meds could have side effects such as making him tired, upsetting his stomach, severe headaches, dizziness, etc. But he had to keep taking them to prevent infection, and to help his heart heal from the surgery had been done.

And he experienced every one of those side effects. Of course. Which truly made him discouraged. “I went from one problem to another!”

The procedure had taken place on a Tuesday, with him coming home Wednesday morning. He stayed home taking it easy until Saturday, when he just felt like he needed to get out for awhile.

So we went to one of our favorite little artisan pizza restaurants which is only about 10 minutes from the house. We always sit at the bar so we can talk to their employees, plus we also get quicker service as well.

We had just gotten our drinks when it happened.

Ben suddenly got quiet, and his face went from a smile to grimace of pain. I asked him if he was all right, expecting his usual? “I’m fine.” Instead, he said no, as he held his right arm with excruciating pain shooting thru it. And slowly starting leaning to his right……

Not again….!!!

“Do you need to go to the hospital?!”

When he quickly agreed I knew this was worse than serious.

He didn’t want to wait for an ambulance, and since the hospital was almost just across the street, I hurriedly helped him out and got him in the car. We’d been happy when we’d parked that we actually found a space directly in front of the restaurant; now I was more than grateful for that, because we didn’t have to go far to get him to the car, and I didn’t have time to ask for help!

I drove as quickly as I could to get him to the ER, telling him the whole time “Stay with me! Stay with me! We’re almost there!” And if a police officer had tried to stop me, well we’d have just had a police escort to the ER and I’d deal with it later! And fortunately I hit no red lights and traffic was light.

In five minutes I’d pulled up to the hospital, hit the flashers, and ran into the ER like a crazy person yelling my husband was having a heart attack and pointed to where my car was. I’m sure the staff is used to such things, and they had him in a wheelchair and in a room quicker than I could imagine. Thankfully. And yes, I did have enough presence of mind to move the car.

When I got back inside it was a flashback of those several years previously with all the wires and machines being quickly hooked up to him, just in case. His heart rhythms looked good, at least to me, and I’d seen a lot of them over the years!

He said his pain was starting to go away, and the nurse said his EKG was normal. Thank goodness! After a lot of tests, which of course took forever to come back, they couldn’t really find anything wrong. Speculations included a TIA, or mini-stroke, angina attack (which he’s never had, or at least not yet), a pinched nerve in his neck, etc.

But the main thing they attributed it to was possibly an after-effect of the ablation procedure. Yes we knew there could be after-effects, but this one hadn’t been mentioned.

Suggested follow up visits to his primary care doctor, his cardiologist, and later a neurologist, didn’t really shed any more light on the incident, so quite possibly it could have been a result of the ablation. As the surgeon reminded us at that follow up visit, his heart had been traumatized with the procedure and was still in the initial stages of healing. That was why he would be on several antibiotics and anti-inflammatory meds to prevent infections. And it would be about 6 months before we’d really know how successful the procedure was.

It was a waiting game. Some days he’d feel good, others not so much. But his regular checkups with his cardiologist were good, and six months later we thought we’d finally passed the finish line, and things would be good. No more a-fib, no more flutter. His pacemaker was working fine, and his last echocardiogram in October showed no problems.

We thought we were home free for awhile….

More to come in Matters of the Heart, Part 8, to be published March 25.

Don’t miss the previous stories in this series:
Matters of the Heart, Part 1
Matters of the Heart, Part 2
Matters of the Heart, Part 3
Matters of the Heart, Part 4
Matters of the Heart, Part 5
Matters of the Heart, Part 6

Matters of the Heart, Part 6

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Matters of the Heart, Part 6

As I wrote previously in Matters of the Heart, Parts 1-5, my husband has experienced heart issues since we were married a little over 34 years ago, thanks to a bout of rheumatic fever at the age of two. He’s had two open heart surgeries and numerous other cardiac procedures that we didn’t really know existed until he had to have them. And we learned a lot more than we ever wanted to.

Because of the recurring bouts of A-fib I talked about in Part 5, we decided he needed to go ahead and have the ablation surgery the doctor had recommended.

Ablation entails inserting a tiny catheter in a vein in the groin, and threading it up into the heart, so that the procedure can be done with minimal invasion to both his body and his heart. After the procedure, he would be in the hospital for several hours to be certain there were no complications, such as bleeding or a recurrence of the irregular heartbeat, and then most likely go home.

So on a hot summer day last July we arrived at the hospital at 6:30 in the morning, overnight bag packed just in case, and prepared for a long day.

As confident as I was with the doctor, and the hospital (which is owned by the healthcare organization I work for), I couldn’t help but be a bit nervous. After all, this was a procedure he hadn’t had before, and we really didn’t know what to expect.

Fortunately our daughter and one of my best friends were there to sit with me, which helped pass the time. But hours pass very slowly in this situation, and when it was past the two hour time estimate for the procedure, and we hadn’t heard anything I was getting anxious. Normally the doctor comes out and talks with you, but after three hours with no news, needless to say I was more than worried, and quite anxious.

I knew something wasn’t right. The receptionist at the front desk in the waiting room couldn’t tell me anything except they’d call as soon as he was ready to have us come back to the recovery area, and that the doctor would be out shortly.

When you’re dealing with cardiac issues, no matter how confident you are, how much faith you have, you still get worried when a procedure takes longer than it should. All kinds of things go through your mind; things you don’t want to think about, but there they are, and they just won’t go away.

It still took another 20 minutes or so before the doctor came out. I’m sure he knew how worried I’d been, and after telling me Ben was all right, he quickly apologized for taking so long.

And then he explained what had actually taken so long. Ben had not only been in A-fib when he came in that morning; he was also experiencing something called flutter, which we’d never heard of. Atrial flutter is a condition in which the electrical circuits in the right atrium of the heart cause the heart to beat extra fast, between 250-400 beats per minute, causing the upper and lower chambers of the heart to be beating out of sync.

Well that was something else I’d never heard of, and neither had Ben. But I was sure having both A-fib and flutter wasn’t a good combination, causing dizziness, shortness of breath, and also an increased risk of blood clots or stroke.

The good thing in all this, if there was one, was that the doctor was able to do a double ablation, cauterizing two areas of tissue in my husband’s heart which were causing the conditions. As the doctor said, he got a “twofer”, otherwise he would’ve had to come back several weeks later to undergo a second ablation surgery.

Well, I guess that was a good thing.

However, because of the blood thinners he’d been on for years, and even though he’d stopped taking them the day before as instructed, when the catheters were removed, it took over 20 minutes and intense pressure on the insertion points to stop the bleeding.

But at least his heart valve, the one that had been replaced twice, appeared to be fine, with no signs of leakage. At least that worry could be put to rest!

When we finally got to see him he looked good, although understandably tired. The nurses still came in every 15-20 minutes to check on the insertion sites to be sure there was no more bleeding.

I have to say, one thing thoroughly impressed all of us that day, and that was the story he told about going into the operating room that morning, where he was greeted by a line of people as he was wheeled in on the gurney. He said it actually reminded him of a reception line at a wedding. Every person there introduced him/herself with a “Good morning, Mr. Newell. My name is _______, and I’m going to be doing _______ for this procedure. They even had a “Welcome Ben Newell” sign on the huge monitor in the OR on which his procedure would be displayed and most likely videotaped for his electronic medical records. He was so impressed with that, and so were we when we heard about it, and he’s told everyone he runs into how it made him feel so important, and how such a personal display from the OR team would make anyone feel more comfortable and relaxed about going through such a major procedure. (Thank you, Sentara Heart Hospital in Norfolk!) These are the little touches that are so important in dealing with these major medical procedures.

The nurses kept checking on him the rest of the afternoon, but by 5:00 I knew he wasn’t going home that night. There was just too much to be concerned about, including bleeding from the sites as well as episodes of possible A-fib, and neither one of us had a problem with him staying there overnight. By the time I got home, all I wanted to do was cry or sleep, or both.

The next day he was released a little before noon, and we really thought things were going to get better and stay that way! Even though the doctor had said it would be a good 6 months before we could be assured it was all OK, we were believing this would be the end of his heart problems.

More to follow, in Matters of the Heart, Part 7, to be published March 21.

Don’t miss the previous stories in this series:
Matters of the Heart, Part 1
Matters of the Heart, Part 2
Matters of the Heart, Part 3
Matters of the Heart, Part 4
Matters of the Heart, Part 5

Matters of the Heart, Part 5

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As I wrote previously in Matters of the Heart, Parts 1 through 4, my husband has experienced heart issues since we were married a little over 34 years ago, thanks to a bout of rheumatic fever at the age of two. He’s had two open heart surgeries and numerous other cardiac procedures that we didn’t really know existed until he had to have them. And we’ve learned a lot more than we ever wanted to.

And unfortunately we’re still learning.

After Ben was diagnosed with congestive heart failure, I thought “what else can happen to him?” Don’t ever ask yourself that question, because you’re going to find out!

Although he’d had a few bouts of A-fib, in which the heart starts beating totally out of a normal rhythm sequence, making him exhausted and unable to do much after a shortened day’s work, it had usually been corrected either with medication or a simple procedure called cardio version which stops the heart and restarts it heart back into its normal rhythm. The doctor called it a simple procedure, and to him, it was.

For the patient and the patient’s family, it’s scary to know your loved one’s heart is going to be stopped for a second or two and then restarted. Yes, it’s been done hundreds of thousands of times, but not on your loved one. He’d had one years before and I remember how nervous we both were before having it done. Yes, it took probably 15 minutes from putting him under to bringing him out of the sedation, but still…

We certainly hadn’t thought he’d have to go through it again, but over the past years since being diagnosed with CHF (read Matters of the Heart, Part 4), we really didn’t think about that coming back. And, he already had the pacemaker so we though we were ok on that particular issue.

But since then we’ve learned that a pacemaker doesn’t keep the heart from going into A-fib. It will shock the heart when it’s too slow, and try to bring it in rhythm when it’s going into A-fib, but basically, at least in my husband’s case, a defibrillator is needed to correct A-fib.

Last spring, he started getting very tired, and would complain it felt like his heart was racing. He had to take a nap when he came home from work, even though he’s only working 30 hours a week. He couldn’t walk a lot without getting tired, and picking up our granddaughter or one of our Yorkies was difficult, because he got so short of breath it took him a few minutes to start breathing correctly again.

Back to the doctor….

Where we discovered the A-fib had reared its ugly head again. And found out the pacemaker wasn’t enough to prevent this.

So now what?

More medication changes. Drugs to hopefully control the A-fib; a different blood thinner to decrease stroke risk. And a list of side effects that didn’t sound like fun either. Which of course he developed, which meant changing meds again. And by the way, even with insurance these medications are NOT inexpensive, and a few had to be ruled out because of the cost!

We were also fortunate enough to get an appointment with one of the specialists in his cardiology group who deals only with cases involving electrical issues of the heart. A cancellation in his schedule enabled us to get an appointment within a week; otherwise there is usually a three month wait.

This doctor was very good, very professional, and very reassuring. He explained there are basically four treatment protocols for A-fib. Most common is medication, which unfortunately wasn’t taking care of it. The next was to do a cardioversion (again!).

The next was a procedure called cardiac ablation in which the areas of the heart causing the A-fib are cauterized (burned out) so that it can’t (or shouldn’t) happen again. That sounded scary to both of us. It’s more invasive than the other procedures, but still, it isn’t open heart surgery. And there are risks of complications, including pericarditis or other infections of the heart, small blood clots, etc. so he would be on several additional medications for 3-6 months to hopefully avoid those problems.

The last alternative would be to either add another wire to his existing pacemaker or change it out altogether. And with everything we went though with getting the pacemaker, that didn’t sound too good either.

So back we went for him to have another cardioversion procedure, which the doctor hoped would take care of it. Again, as with the other such procedures, it was quick, with no side effects or complications. We even went out for lunch afterwards.

And three weeks later, he was back in A-fib. His doctor wasn’t totally surprised, because he’d told us this could happen. But so quickly?

Six weeks later we were back at the hospital for the ablation procedure. To say I was nervous is an understatement. When your husband has gone through so many cardiac procedures, part of you feels like it’s, “Here we go again.”

But there’s another part that says, “What if it doesn’t work? What then? Where are we headed?” All sorts of scenarios go through your head at this point, and no matter how strong your faith is, you’re scared. You’re anxious. And you can’t help but wonder what’s next.

We are fortunate enough to live in an area which is home to one of the top
heart hospitals on the east coast, Sentara Heart Hospital. Which, of course, is where we went. But that didn’t prevent us from having a really long day…

Which has now gone into several long
months. And it’s not over yet. Unfortunately.

And it continues, in Matters of the Heart, Part 6, to be published March 14.

Don’t miss the previous stories in this series:
Matters of the Heart, Part 1
Matters of the Heart, Part 2
Matters of the Heart, Part 3
Matters of the Heart, Part 4

Matters of the Heart, Part 4

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When we speak about matters of the heart, our heart skipping a beat, being heartsick about something, being broken hearted, etc., we’re talking emotions, not our physical hearts.

As you know now, this series is about physical heart. The muscle that sustains our very life. The type of heart issues which can be life threatening.

As you read previously in Matters of the Heart, Parts 1, 2, and 3, my husband has experienced heart issues since we were married a little over 34 years ago, thanks to a bout of rheumatic fever at the age of two. He’s had two open heart surgeries and numerous other cardiac procedures that we didn’t really know existed until he had to have them. And we’ve learned a lot more we you ever wanted to about heart problems.

After the pacemaker episode in the summer of 2013, I really thought things were stable; that we wouldn’t have any more issues. That all we’d need to do was keep up with regular doctor appointments, and everything would be fine.

Well, it was a nice thought.

And over the past several years I have learned there is no assurance that the problems are ever totally solved; that there will be many other times that his heart decides it’s moving out of regularity and into a whole other area of problems.

After the pacemaker episode, things began to normalize to a degree. We had our daughter’s wedding to plan, along with all the festivities involved. We were so thankful Ben was healthy and able to host their engagement party just a few short months after we’d almost lost him. After all, the Father of the Bride is a very important participant in the wedding! And Ashley and her dad are very close.

But Ben being Ben, I later learned there were things going on with him as the big day grew closer that he elected not to tell me. Or Ashley. Or anyone, for that matter, including his cardiologist!

Nor did he voluntarily tell me until a few weeks after Ashley and Chris’ wedding (which was beautiful and perfect!) when he was noticeably having trouble walking a couple of blocks to an auditorium for a graduation event. I questioned him about it, and his answer shocked me. “It’s like the nurse said; all the fluid buildup is causing me to have breathing problems, and I can’t walk that quickly.”

Nurse? What nurse?

Oh, the doctor appointment you forgot to tell me about!?? What else did she say??!! Oh, that if it gets worse you need to get to the hospital….??

That was on a Friday afternoon. He insisted on going to our daughter’s best friend’s pre-graduation dinner after the white coat ceremony we attended for her (a very important part of the graduation process for medical professionals), but the next morning when his breathing was so much worse we ended up in the hospital emergency room instead of attending her actual graduation ceremony.

Imagine how we felt when they rushed Ben through a series of tests…chest X-rays, blood work, EKG, etc., and were told he had congestive heart failure. And that very combination of words sounded to me like a death sentence. I had no idea what it meant, but I knew it couldn’t be good. We were both scared.

Simply put, congestive heart failure, or CHF, is a condition in which the heart is working harder then it should be, but still isn’t pumping at its full capacity. Because of this, fluid builds up around the heart and in the lungs, which makes breathing more difficult, and the heart work harder. Ankles, legs, and abdomen swell. Lightheadedness, dizziness, and exhaustion are also common. And yes, he had all of those symptoms as well.
Without treatment, the prognosis isn’t good.

CHF is not curable. Once you have it, you can only manage it. You’ll always have it, although you can control it by diet, exercise, and medication.

Because of the huge amount of fluid already built up in his body, he was immediately put on IV medication to cause him to eliminate the fluid, which meant several bathroom visits per hour. During the first two days in the hospital he lost probably 6 pounds of fluid, and a total of 14 pounds before he was released after almost a week.

Fortunately, at least so far, he’s been able to manage it. He’s on fluid pills twice a day, religiously counts the sodium in each meal to avoid going over 2,000 mg per day, weighs himself almost daily to be sure his weight remains stable, and tries to walk as much as possible each day. He sees his doctor every three months as well.

But there are still times the fluid starts to build up again, even with the pills, and the dosage has to be increased. It’s a never ending cycle. And yes, I always worry when he has problems starting to develop again. I can’t help it.

However, CHF isn’t the only issue we’ve recently been dealing with. And when it involves the heart, it’s not minor in any way.

And it continues in Matters of the Heart, Part 5, to be published March 6.

Matters of the Heart, Part 3

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When we speak about matters of the heart, our heart skipping a beat, being heartsick about about something, being broken hearted, etc., we’re talking emotions, not our physical hearts.

But this is not about emotions, although as you will see, emotions were very much a part of this particular episode.

This is about the heart. The physical heart. The muscle that sustains our very life. The type of heart issues which can be life threatening.

As I wrote previously in Matters of the Heart, Parts 1 and 2, my husband has experienced heart issues since we were married a little over 34 years ago, thanks to a bout of rheumatic fever at the age of two. He’s had two open heart surgeries and numerous other cardiac procedures that we didn’t really know existed until he had to have them. And you learn a lot more than you ever wanted to.

After the cardioversion I wrote about last, we thought everything was going to be smooth sailing. That our worries were over.

That’s what we thought.

Until a few years later when the A-fib returned. The doctors tried several medications which stopped it for awhile, but once again he had to undergo another cardioversion procedure. We weren’t quite as scared that time, but any time your heart is undergoing a surgical procedure, you’re nervous. Who wouldn’t be?!

Fortunately this one was successful as well, and we went a few more years without any issues.

Until he unexpectedly passed out at his office one morning. And called me from the ambulance complaining that everyone at work had forced him to go! (I was later told when he passed out he hit his head so hard on the floor those who heard it thought he’d cracked his skull!)

Doctors found nothing wrong; they said it could be a low blood sugar episode, or a quick drop in blood pressure, but nothing really concrete. His heart rhythm was fine. So he went back to work the next day. When he almost passed out the following week, he went to his primary care doctor, who couldn’t find anything wrong either.

Then came the early morning at home when he passed out while getting ready for work. Three times in a row. I didn’t hear him since the bedroom door was closed, and I was still asleep. I always keep my cell phone beside the bed, and he texted me to come help him. Fortunately I heard the phone….

When I got to his bathroom he was on the floor, lying in the doorway, dizzy, and breathing hard. I was terrified. I called 911, and I’m sure I sounded hysterical. Our daughter still lived at home, and I yelled at her to come help me with her dad so I could put my contacts in and throw on clothes to follow him to the hospital. And she was as scared as I was.

Fortunately the EMT’s got there quickly, made sure he was stable, and got him down the stairs and in the ambulance, telling me he was going to be ok. The hospital is only 5 minutes away from our house, and for some reason when they told me, “if we pass Princess Anne Hospital we’re taking him to Beach General. Just come there, but don’t follow us through the red lights,” I didn’t really think about what it could mean.

And that ambulance didn’t take their time, that I will tell you! I was relieved when they pulled in to the emergency room at the closer hospital. Both Ashley and I jumped out of our cars and ran in, bypassing security, and met everyone in the room they already had set up for him, where about 6 ER staff members were waiting for him. I should’ve known then how serious it was.

We watched as they hooked him up to more machines then I could imagine, working quickly, as if his life depended on it.

I had no idea how true that was.

And as they hooked up the last wires to the electric paddle machine, it happened. As my husband was talking to everyone, suddenly his eyes rolled back in his head, he fell back on the pillow, and began making a horrendous rattling, gurgling sound. And the heart rhythms weren’t registering on the monitor.

I froze.

Fortunately the team in the room didn’t. I have never witnessed such a display of coordination, everyone working together at the same time doing different jobs without having to be told how to react. Obviously this team knew what they were doing, and had most likely done this many times before.

And in what seemed like hours, but was most probably seconds, they began the life saving procedures that very literally saved my husband’s life.

There was no time for them to ask Ashley and me to leave, as the paddles were quickly turned on to restart his heart. A lot of it is still a blur, but we do remember the doctor apologizing to him for the pain he was going through, as the electric impulses traveled through his body, causing him to jump and flop around on the gurney. There was no choice. At one point Ashley grabbed his ankles to try to stabilize him somewhat, while he continued to jump around on the gurney, almost like a frog being electrocuted in a testing lab.

It seemed to last forever, and all I could do was sit and watch and pray that he’d be ok; that he had to be all right to be able to walk our daughter, who’d just gotten engaged, down the aisle. I couldn’t even move off the chair.

At one point, the doctor came over to him, and apologized for what he was going through, but added, “Mr. Newell, you are not going to die on my watch!” That’s the only thing, aside from the pain, that he remembers.

A few minutes later his cardiologist arrived along with his partner, and told him he needed to have a pacemaker, and they were trying to get a time scheduled as quickly as possible, for that day. Ben immediately told him he wanted a second opinion. I can still very vividly remember the doctor telling him, “Ben you already have two second opinions. My partner’s and your wife’s!”

Fortunately he came through that ordeal. And so did Ashley and I. One of my best friends arrived shortly thereafter, who’d been an EMT for a number of years. She happened to see the EKG strip the ambulance attendants had left in the room, and when she read it, she told me we’d been extremely lucky, because he was in very bad shape when he’d been brought in.

Thank goodness he hadn’t coded at home, because I truly don’t know if I could have remembered my CPR training. I’m glad I didn’t have to find out.

The rest of the morning he was drugged to the gills on morphine, and hooked up to an external pacemaker until his doctor could get the OR scheduled to implant the pacemaker which has literally saved his life.

But God certainly has a sense of humor, and after the surgery was scheduled, and he was sent to the ICU to wait for the procedure, we all laughed ourselves silly at the things he said (from the morphine, of course) about seeing a woman in his room eating a sandwich, watching huge bugs crawling all over the walls, searching for his glasses that were right beside him, wanting to make phone calls to clients to talk about their mortgage applications (he couldn’t even remember their names), continuing to argue that he wanted a second opinion before he’d consent to the surgery, and at the same time jumping and asking us, “did you feel that?” as the external pacemaker kept shocking his heart back into normal rhythm every few minutes and literally keeping him alive.

How could we laugh after that ordeal? I can only say, it was our reaction to the stress and adrenaline rush of those first hours. A way of calming all of us down, including Ben, from a very frightening and traumatic episode. Yes, we were still worried; very much so. And we tried to distract each other in order not to think about it.

The pacemaker surgery took place early afternoon. It was a short procedure, and he did quite well, although the meds still were making him say crazy things, and telling visitors he was going to have the pacemaker taken out the next day because he wanted a second opinion…

That was a day I never want to repeat. Nor does he. After the pacemaker was implanted and working properly, he went home the next morning, resuming his normal activities in a few days.

Unfortunately that still wasn’t the end of my husband’s cardiac adventures. When rheumatic fever sets out to harm the heart, its aftereffects last for a lifetime. As we continued to discover.

And it wasn’t that much later that his heart issues reared their ugly heads once more….

More to come on Matters of the Heart, Part 4, to be published February 28.

Matters of the Heart, Part 2

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When we speak about matters of the heart, our heart skipping a beat, being heartsick about something, being broken hearted, etc., we’re talking emotions, not our physical hearts.

But this is not about emotions, although they do play a huge part in it, but….

This is about the heart. The physical heart. The muscle that sustains our very life. The type of heart issues which can be life threatening.

As I wrote previously in Matters of the Heart, Part 1, my husband has experienced heart issues since we were married a little over 34 years ago, thanks to a bout of rheumatic fever at the age of two. His first open heart surgery experience was frightening for both of us, but after 16 or 17 years with perfect checkups, we’d all but stopped thinking about the possibility of a second such operation.

Even his chest scar had faded to the point we almost didn’t even notice it anymore.

Until the day he walked up the stairs as usual and suddenly became exhausted and out of breath. At first we figured it was just because he was tired.

Until it continued for several days, worsening a little each day. Then came the morning he asked me to go up with him for prayer at church and started the conversation with the prayer counselors with, “Deborah doesn’t know this yet but I’ve been having pains in my chest for several days….”

Not again! I guess he figured I couldn’t get mad at him by telling me like that! Well I certainly did, but that was beside the point right then.

And once again we were on the roller coaster ride of facing another open heart surgery. This time, at least, we knew mostly what to expect. Sort of, anyway. Except for our 14 year old daughter who was immediately scared to death that she’d lose her dad. We did our best to reassure her, but at that age, there were so many emotions she had to deal with, and I’m sure her dad and I didn’t deal with them as well as we should have, because we were dealing with our own!

This time we were told they didn’t use the pig valves any more so he chose the bovine (cow) valve rather than the mechanical one. He did joke around that he’d had a craving for pork for a lot of years, and he guessed now he’d switch that craving to steak! At least he kept his sense of humor.

Still….

The second surgery was somewhat easier on him though, if open heart surgery can ever be easy. Techniques had improved, and the stay in the hospital was a few days shorter. He was out of ICU and in a regular room much quicker, less than 24 hours, and was up and walking around a little the next day. Our daughter was very relieved, and so were we! Since it was the middle of the summer she was out of school and was a big help taking care of him those first few weeks. And the doctors were delighted at how quickly he recovered and went back to his daily routine.

We thought we were out of the woods and that all his cardiac problems were behind us, at least for another 15 years or so.

And they were. For awhile. But a few years later the problems started coming back. Unexpectedly.
It began with three separate episodes of him going into A-fib. I had no idea what it was, or what it meant. We always thought we’d have to face another valve replacement eventually but this was something different.
A-fib, or atrial fibrillation, is a quivering or irregular heartbeat (arrhythmia) that can lead to blood clots, stroke, heart failure, or other cardiac complications. The heart races erratically, because of the erratic firing of the electrical impulses in the heart, which causes the blood to not circulate properly, resulting in fatigue, fluid retention, and other conditions.

At first he was treated with medication, which for most people, usually controls it. Of course, in his case, it didn’t. He was continually tired with occasional shortness of breath. And it just wasn’t getting any better.

What to do next? We figured there’d be another switch of medications again or maybe a combination of different drugs.

But hearing the doctor tell you that your husband has to have his heart stopped and then shocked to begin beating again in order to get the rhythm back to normal doesn’t give you a good feeling. He wasn’t wild about it either, but since the medication they were giving him wasn’t helping, he had to do something, and once again we headed back to the hospital.

Fortunately cardioversion is a simple procedure, at least for the doctors who do it regularly, but not to those of us who are the patient or the family! The process sends an electrical shock to the heart through electrodes placed on the chest to stop the heart and then re-start it to a natural rhythm. The very thought of what is going to happen is frightening to those of us who are not in the medical field, and Ben was certainly apprehensive as we waited for it to be done at the hospital with a number of our friends and our daughter and her boyfriend (now husband) waiting along with us.

Yes, we were nervous. And yes, scared as well. After all, would you want to have your heart stopped and then re-started? What if it didn’t work properly? What if…what if??

Thankfully the procedure was over almost before we knew it, and he was fine. His heart was once again beating at a normal rhythm. We all breathed a big sigh of relief! We were sure all of his heart problems were finally over.

And they were. Until a few years later….as the saga continues on Matters of the Heart, Part 3 to be published on February 21.