I had an angiogram yesterday. They stick a camera in you from the femoral artery and take a wander round your body. It’s actually good fun but I guess I have strange ideas of fun. I’m being sent to Broad Green Hospital for by-pass surgery which suits me very well since I trust them and they are the specialist centre for the area. I worked in Broad Green in the late 1960s – it’s where I did my 10 weeks of nursing training before ignominiously voiding my stomach when seeing a child brought into A & E on bonfire night. That shouldn’t even have happened because the children’s hospital was only a mile away but they were too busy. Burned child equalled decision that medicine was not to be chosen profession.
Still a bit sore from the angiogram and have to avoid climbing trees for the next 48 hours but otherwise fine. The consultant has decided that putting in more stents (little bits of plastic tubing in the artery and branches) would be difficult and probably not solve the problem.
The even better news – I can drive the car after 48 hours. That’s according to the leaflet I’ve been given. The authors of the leaflet failed to take into account my other health problems which mean I see two of everything and cannot feel the pedals so have a habit of driving into walls! (Last time - when I quit driving - almost everyone asked if our house wall was OK before asking about me!). Reminds me of the old joke about the man who damaged his hand in machinery at work and asked the doctor “Will I be able to play the piano after the operation”. “Oh yes, in a week or 2”, said the doctor. “Oh good”, said the chap, “I’ve always wanted to play the piano.”
In theory the op. has to be carried out within 18 weeks of my original referral and Broad Green is quiet on the surgery front at the moment so it should be prior to 8th January and most probably a bit before Christmas subject to Broad Green seeing me and agreeing to do it.
Jo had come to pick me up and was there when the consultant saw me. She was pleased that there was only a 2 to 3% chance of anything going wrong with by-pass surgery (like a stroke, heart attack, need for will reading, etc...). I find it hilarious that folk who think those are good odds then go on to do (and religiously check) the weekly UK Lottery on the basis that there is a 1 in 13,983,816 chance of winning the jackpot. Mind you, the odds on winning something each time you do it are 54-1. Which means I am overdue a second win by at least six months...
The third bit of good news is that my right coronary artery is in fine condition for a man of my age (mind you, the consultant did mis-read my notes as saying born in 1929!). Obviously all the saturated fats and smoke of my mis-spent youth have gone been very British and driven on the left!
That’s all about me.
How about you? Hope you are all well out there and hope I’ll see you on my blog again soon. Mind you, since my blog has 67 followers the odds on one of us drowning in the bath-tub is 1,000 to 1. I suggest you all shower for the next week...
Good things are under control, all the best.
ReplyDeleteBe well my friend, I will keep you in my prayers.....:-) Hugs
ReplyDeleteGood luck with the op - my DH had an angiogram some years back and has been controlled on tablets ever since. I remember Broadgreen very well - My aunt was a nurse there and my mother spent some time in there as a patient. I myself did a short stint in Alder hey as a trainee Med Tech ( worked in The Blood Transfusion Centre but the training had to be in all areas so also worked in the Royal
ReplyDeleteI love your wit, John. You are an inspiration in that way, for sure. I'll be talking with God about you now in the days to come, so do not wonder what that odd ringing is in your ear.
ReplyDeleteMay you find yourself in the best of company, surrounded by goodness and all the littlest of things that could possibly make your heart happy.
Love to you and BEST of health findings to come!!
Glad to hear you got through THAT day at the hospital at least. I haven't had an angiogram but I've had other sort of tubes and things stuck into me for different reason and I confess I have rarely put it exactly in the category of "fun" ;)
ReplyDeleteWhen I was in one of my earlier stages of finding out how to deal with my own chronic pain problems, I read a book by novelist Maeve Binchy called Aches and Pains. It's not a novel, but a book she wrote after hip replacement surgery, illustrated by her friend, Wendy Shea, who had also undergone a hip replacement. I don't own it, I borrowed it at the library. But one of the things I remember from it is a story similar to those you recount here... Someone was told they'd be able to drive after the op, and answered good, because they'd never learned how to do that...
Good luck to you "with the rest", I hope you'll soon have it behind you.
I probably won't be drowning in the bath tub because I don't have one now. I might of course slip in the shower but I do my best to avoid it.
So, do I have it right: a bypass surgery of one artery? So, what about your neurological problems? Do they work on that too?
ReplyDeleteSorry, my brother is and MD, so I am so used to think about the whole picture, that it's an automatic question. Hope everything goes well, and it should! Hope your recovery will go smoothly and quickly!
First an apology about my miss-spelling. Wishing you car good health really wasn't on my mind! How's the cat today?
ReplyDeleteGoing back to this post. Your sense of humour throughout was marvellous. Would that I had the same outlook on all things medical and especially all things that explore our insides. I hope all goes well for you and keep away from that lottery.
Finally, the bit about bonfire night. As you know that is the bonfire/firework drum I continually beat. Only this morning I heard of the death of a 49 year old woman who had fireworks pushed through her front door. When will the authorities see sense and stop the sale of explosives to the general public?
Sorry to have gone on so long... going off for a cuppa now.
Thanks for all your good wishes. No, Jeannette, there is no solution to the neurological problem because once sensory and motor nerves have died they cannot be resuscitated - even if Audrdey Hepburn were to give them mouth-to-mouth... It's odd that despite dying nerves I get chronic pain with no physical cause - seems illogical but I guess my nerves are just as mixed up as the rest of me.
ReplyDeleteyou are SO BRAVE and CHEERFUL!! I really admire you!! {{HUGS}}
ReplyDeleteSo very sorry that you cannot climb trees and sending you good thoughts and wishes.
ReplyDeleteYour wonderful sense of humour hides the seriousness of all this.
ReplyDeleteI know Broad Green Hospital having had to go there in my youth, you are in excellent hands.
I trust the cat is on the improvement chart as well!
Love Granny
So glad all is well and that you had "fun." ;^)
ReplyDeleteHope you will be able to play the piano...(if you don't already.)
;^)
Good luck with the ops!
ReplyDeleteWe'll be thinking and praying for you, and thinking and wishing you well. (Positive thinking!)
Give Jo a hug from me, and a pat on the head to little Meek too.
Canadian Chickadee
All the best, I'll be thinking about ya.
ReplyDeleteThere's no keeping a story-teller down, is there? I bet you were lying there, as foreign bits wandered around your insides, thinking, "This will make a good post." Thank you for your humourous account of an angiogram, I won't be at all frightened now if ever I am threatened with one. You have my vote for bravery!!
ReplyDeleteI promise to shower!
ReplyDeleteHope you have a good outcome and no "sequelae," as they like to call it...
Now get out there and grow some veggies next summer!
I wish you well with your upcoming op. Good to have it all identified and know what needs to be done, and I wish you a speedy recovery from it all!
ReplyDeleteWishing you the best. Stay out of trees and bathtubs.
ReplyDeleteI have not been keeping up with the blogging world lately. So sorry to hear this. My very best to you John.
ReplyDelete