Showing posts with label heart-surgery. Show all posts
Showing posts with label heart-surgery. Show all posts

Tuesday, 31 July 2018

A Kind Of Last Post

I have been thinking long and hard about this.
As I get older and The Old Man gets older, I spend so much time being angry about stuff that words fail me. And I don't find so much to laugh about. Of course this could be the consequences of old age and a long memory whilst I still have one.
This blog and your company have helped me through some rough patches, in particular during the early days (2010) when The Old Man became suddenly and seriously ill.


You can read those posts at "Heart Surgery" though remember they will run back to front chronologically.

But now The Doll and The Old Man are packing up the blog bags for a while. Mrs D will miss me (The Doll) I know... and The Old Man ... naturally! 
Meanwhile she continues with her own Syb&Me site where she struggles with learning animation and other things creative.

So for now, in this place, it's time for me and The Old Man to say "Good Bye, my dears. Take care. Keep safe. And Thank You."



Monday, 26 March 2012

....Upstairs and Downstairs and in The Old Man's Chambers

So The Old Man has received a copy of his Heart Doctor's letter to his GP.

Apparently... his "chambers" have shrunk.

But this appears to be a good thing.


Monday, 22 August 2011

The Old Man's Health Report

So I just want to say for those followers that get concerned over The Old Man. His health, I mean. The rest is just The Old Man.

We's been a little stressed recently cos he does feel a bit ropey. After many discussions he decides that it is one of the many drugs he takes that is making matters worse for him, headaches, muscle pains.

So he mentions it to his heart doctor on the rare occasion that he gets a check up with him. The doctor sets in motion changing the beta-blocker.

Finally he has a supply and has started the new drug a few days ago.

Whether out of relief or what, I don't know, but he is sleeping better, looking a bit better, and is generally jollier.

Then he turns to me with a worried look and says:

"It might make me too cheerful."

That's my boy.

Tuesday, 19 July 2011

The Old Man's Words - Again

A week ago or so.... The Old Man did another heart-stopping health trick.

In the kitchen, he starts to tell me that there is another bottle of...

"v....blop.... er.... va....kupfick.... er.... in the fridge... another kind of... va... vo....."

I tell him to shut up and sit down. And we both stare at each other for a while, wondering if this is another stroke thingy.

When it is safe to speak he tells me he knows he is frightening me. I think we both be a bit shook up.

Maybe the first time this happened was before I wuz bloggin. It was way back before the heart operation last year. Then... we were sitting opposite each other at the supper table and suddenly The Old Man starts to speak more rubbish than usual.

That time I also tell him to shut up.
This is my knee-jerk reaction. If he doesn't speak at all - it won't be happening. Eventually he'll manage a straight sentence.

On this occasion he is diagnosed as having had a mini- stroke, no lasting damage, one of the problems associated with dodgy heart valves, dodgy heart rhythmns.... The Old Man is put on Warfarin to thin the blood... And for The Old Man it is part of the decision taken to have the heart-valve operation.

So - back to the other day. When we stare at each other and wonder... why he is doing it again?

When we calm down we discuss it. The Old Man says the two incidents are different. Before - he thought he was saying the right word. This time - he knows the word he wants to say but can't find it.

We decide it is a combination of summer heat, baking bread with hot oven, tiredness, and of course.... THE DRUGS.

But it's the kind of thing that shakes up the both of us. Just when you think you might be getting over it all.....

Friday, 4 February 2011

The Old Man and the Surgeon

Hello. Just to say to "Old Man Watchers" everywhere, that we did visit the The Old Man's Heart Surgeon yesterday - two hours drive away....

The Old Man actually succeeded in seeing The Man Himself. And the Surgeon is pleased with his progress. And says not to worry about this Heart Failure business. There is every reason to think that his heart can still improve it's condition somewhat - with the drug regime and so on. He is happy with the level of drugs that The Old Man is on at present. Do you feel this? Do you feel that? Don't worry... and
- in the manner of the medical god that he is .....

"Go live your life and enjoy it."

I hear this news and still shake my head in a degree of confusion over who to believe over Old Man's prognosis. (Remember I was a bit gloomy after his last session with the Heart Nurse? Click here for reminder.) But what matters to people in these situations is the context of their discussions. If you live with compromised health, the psychological and emotional aspects can't be forgotten.

And The Old Man is much jollier after his chat with The Surgeon.


Saturday, 29 January 2011

Ssh! Nursey is Incognito

I think I'm putting in my last appearance in this attire.
Why? Ask you.
Because I'm frightened of the litigation.

Maybe you missed the news story? Earlier this month the Red Cross forced a panto production in Glasgow to change their nurse's costume which was.... somewhat like mine. Apparently putting a red cross on a nurse's costume when it is not being worn by a Red Cross Nurse... is violating the Geneva Convention.

I thought the Geneva Convention was about how you treated prisoners of war - and torture - and extraordinary rendition and stuff. But apparently its principles extend to pantomime costume also. You can click here and read the article if you don't believe me.

Whatever. I don't want to be arrested and flown to Guantanamo because of my significant attire.

"Ho-hum." You say "Why you wearing it anyway? The Old Man's not sick is he?"

No he ain't really. He's just been to see his Heart Nurse (hope she's wearing the right uniform or there'll be trouble) and she says he needs to take some more water pills for a few days cos she thinks there's some fluid in his lungs... And she airily says that's how it will be from now on.... and gradually it sinks in that there is no return to pre-op status for The Old Man. This is his condition now. Officially a "heart failure" patient. Where did all the ..."Let's see how he is six months after the op" talk go?

Now Heart Nurse says she hadn't been told about his original stay in the Heart Op hospital? Can't believe that. Certainly the locum Heart Nurse who made the first visit knew. I get so sick of the lack of communication.

Meanwhile The Old Man is wondering if he is ever going to get the results of the biopsy on his mush cos the cut has healed and it's starting to itch again. He looks up the hospital department in the book.... and there ain't no phone number.... Quelle surprise.

But don't think, for one moment, that I support this government's NHS plans. Cos I don't.

Anyway. On the more amusing medical side ....
We's both a bit addicted to "House" - the American TV series with a misanthropic wunderkind doctor, played with great conviction by Hugh Laurie. We have to watch it on DVD since Sky bought it for broadcast over here. And nothing with Rupert Murdoch's signature on it is allowed into The Old Man's house.

For those who don't know the gist - each episode contains a patient with a puzzling and increasingly deteriorating medical condition... the team swaps investigations, procedures, drugs, arguments and side-swipes until, in a moment of off-duty chat, realisation of the underlying medical problem comes to Dr. Gregory House. (When he has finished toying with the lives of his work colleagues and sole friend, that is.)

Since The Old Man has been watching this latest DVD series, he runs a check list:
"Had that."
"Yes."
"Oh. Yep that's me."

Last night The Old Man scores "lymphoma", "warfarin", and "mitral heart valve failure". It's like winning a triple word score in Scrabble... or getting the final number in "Bingo" .... or... No I can't... that would be too..... "House!"



Monday, 11 October 2010

The State of The Old Man

OK. I give up. Some of you probably want to know about The Old Man's health progress. The truth is - that I am not sure really.

Everyone we meet, who knows him, says how well he is looking - that it is unbelievable that he could have been so ill this summer. He is doing more and more. Some cooking now. Sunday, he took pity on an Old Grey Doll and did the washin' up.

But he has his flakier days.

Last week he trots along to the Heart Nurse, for the second of his regular four-weekly visits.... And she tells him that his heart is worse on the function front than it was on his last visit. And he comes home and mentions this to me. And I feel like clocking her one.

Medical people don't appear to have any idea what it means for someone who is battling away on the health front - when they airily make a bald statement which they believe to be factually correct, but can be somewhat brutal. I mean, good for them. I admire their medical skills and knowledge. But they know how to take the precious wind out of a previously billowing sail.

Chugging along, we thought we were. Chugging along.

The Old Man is philosophical. And brings to bear upon the problem his years of experience of being poked about and scanned for this and that. In particular, he says, the scan that she's basing her pronouncement upon could be different each time you take it... and the technician who did it recently was different from the one who did the scan in August. And it can be their difference of interpretation alone that could emphasise that difference.

See how subtle we get when we are trying to "be reasonable" about stuff?

But I'm still growling and snarling. I could swing for the Nurse and I could swing for The Old Man's Cardiologist.

Because what the whole medical world agrees upon.... or at least that portion of it which has examined him.... is that he needs to have another drug reinstated as soon as possible. This is the drug that his Cardiologist said needed to be reinstated back in August when he saw The Old Man. But the Cardiologist refused to prescribe it. (see the Old Man's Prescription Post). He says the prescribing is for the Heart Nurse to do.

The Heart Nurse does indeed want The Old Man to be taking this drug. But it's not actually in her power to generate the prescription. The prescription, she says, must come from the GP.

Now the GP wants him to be on this drug also (as does the Surgeon) but..... he thinks he will just write to the Cardiologist to make sure.... As will the Heart Nurse.

How long will this circular "pass the prescription parcel" be going on for?

And it's not as if this is a new drug for The Old Man. He was on it before the operation. They all think he should be on it now. So what's the problem?

In truth, people, this and the distraction of Mrs Doonuthin distracted state and her technical preoccupations..... is why I haven't been posting quite so often this last week. I am feeling a bit anxious I expect. A little crestfallen. A little like a Grey Doll living with an Old Man.

Certainly, when The Heart Nurse's view is recounted to me by The Old Man, I feel a little low.
Then in recounting to The Old Man why I feel a little low..... I shout myself into a headache.

The optician has suggested that I get my blood pressure checked. Because of the pretty little lights that I see running along across my vision every now and then.

"Though it's probably a headacheless migraine." she says.

Oh, forget it. Getting my blood pressure checked - would just raise my blood pressure.

Wednesday, 15 September 2010

More Marvin the Paranoid Android ....

Today - we is Portable ECG Man.

This morning The Old Man had to go to the Hospital in Penzance to be fitted with a 24 hour heart recorder.

This time he does not wheeze or make mechanical noises of any kind. He does not go "Peep-Peep".
(Click here to read the Android post).

This time Portable ECG Man is silent in the machinery of his recording.

BUT - he does have to have a piece of paper on which he has to write down everything that he is doing:

12.09 pm Sit Down; 12.32 pm Eat lunch; 12.46 pm Stand Up; 12.47 pm Walk around a bit......

He IS The Walking Recorder. It gives a whole new meaning to the word "journalist". And it could prove a little inconvenient.

But that would make a good plot line for one of those Hollywood films, wouldn't it. With Ben Affleck or Ben Stiller or Ben someone and probly Jennifer Anniston.... There would be romance, there would be comedy. And we could call it a Rom-Com.

The Hospital said for The Old Man to make particularly sure that he records any "events" he may have. This made me nervous. At our age a lot of things could come into the category of "event".

But he said he thought they meant a palpitation or something.

Well.... at least he's having to keep his pencil sharp.

Thursday, 9 September 2010

A Crowded Schedule

Just in case you thought you would pop in for a cup of tea or something... forget it. We - or at least The Old Man and sometimes me - are never in. The reason being that the whole medical world finally wishes to inspect him for something or other.

The other day we do the 2-hour drive thing to the hospital where The Old Man had his heart valve operation. This is for the surgeon to inspect him. We have to get there two hours before the actual appointment, in order to have some tests - which take half an hour. So an awful lot of tea is drunk before - at the end of the afternoon - we finally get in to see Mr Surgeon (after insisting it was him that The Old Man sees... not someone else on his team... after all there had been a bit of a "do" after the op; a small matter of life or death.)

We see Mr Surgeon and break the news of The Old Man's cardiac arrest and two week stay in our own hospital. This is all news to Mr Surgeon, who duly looks solemn and takes some notes. Mr Surgeon says that "lessons must be learnt" - by whom, I am unsure - and also informs The Old Man that he has "an atrium the size of a bucket" (? -me neither) The Old Man seems inordinately pleased with this observation. Mr Surgeon also has a view on medication, unlike The Old Man's Cornwall based cardiologist, and the Old Man is relieved to hear it. All in all The Old Man seems very pleased to have seen Mr Surgeon and is very impressed by the tweed jacket.

And after a whole 15 minute audience with Mr Surgeon we return to the car and do the 2-hour drive back home. I insist we stop off to get chips and stuff - cos it is about 7pm when we get home and I for one am too knackered to cook from a standing start.

It is very tiring being companion and observer.

Today the Old man is summoned to see the Heart Nurse.
He also gets a letter with an appointment one day next week, he knows not why, to be strapped into some other portable contraption (see blood pressure recording post) - this time to record his heart.
He's got an appointment with the Stroke Nurse next week as well.
And the GP.
And on the one free day next week, I've got the dentist.

So - we're not home, right?

Sunday, 5 September 2010

The Old Man as Marvin the Paranoid Android...

...brain the size of a planet... You know? Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy? The radio version? Because of the sound effects. Wheeze, wheeze, clank.

OK. OK.
I say this because he has been fitted with a 24 hour blood pressure recording device. It's supposed to take readings every half hour.

So there he is - wandering around with a plastic box on his belt and a tube snaking up over his T-shirt... which, I suppose, is connected to one of those armband thingies.

And every half hour this wheezing, flatulent sound starts up. The Old Man goes rigid and stands to attention - as if suffering from some form of "petit mal". Then, more often than not, the spectacle finales with a high-pitched peep-peep-peep as the machine fails to find any recordable blood pressure and registers an error message instead.

Good job we haven't got tickets for a concert.

I would have to spray him silver and try to pass him off as a member of a 1980s art-rock tribute band.

Friday, 27 August 2010

The Old Man's Prescription

So in case I left you hangin' there. Let me assure you that The Old Man trudged back to his GP and explained about the dilemma of where he should get his drugs.
He also explained that being dried out like a prune left him feeling really woozy with low blood pressure.

The GP rolled his eyes at the verdicts of Hospital Folk when it comes to who's in charge of prescriptions.

And sweet as a lamb, took over the job.

Between them - GP and the Old Man are working out a new regime, and for now - The Old Man is relieved.

Friday, 20 August 2010

The Old Man's Prescription

Goosey Goosey Gander, whither shall you wander?
Upstairs, downstairs ... and anywhere that will give me my drugs.....

The Old Man goes to see his heart consultant yesterday. A long-awaited appointment in which he hopes to find out more info and to get his medication reviewed because - as he expresses it - he "feels as dry as a chip" with all these diuretics...

When I meet up with him again later, he says he hasn't learnt much more really. Valve working OK. No fluid where it shouldn't be. Heart function not improved really... but maybe not able to tell for another six months... There's a comfort. Not.

Ah Yes. The Consultant agrees that it's time his diuretic drugs (water tablets) are altered. And there is another drug (ACE inhibitor) that should be reinstated.

Good, says Old Man. So where's the new prescription?

Oh No, says Consultant. I shall not be prescribing your medication. That will be the Heart Failure Nurse. I shall write and let her know this.

It takes a while to sink in to The Old Man's noddle (like - this morning) just how angry he is about this.

For years - decades even - it has been the consultant in charge of his heart condition who has prescribed his medication. He had assumed this was still the case.

The GP, at The Old Man's appointment this very week, made it clear that the consultant prescribes the medication, not the GP.

But The Old Man's Consultant is saying that it's not him (the Consultant) who prescribes - it is the Heart Nurse. (Who has made no contact since we saw her locum several weeks ago.)

Whither shall the Old Man wander?

And when, precisely?

Tuesday, 17 August 2010

The Old Man Draws a Graph

So, before his appointment with the GP this morning, The Old Man is assembling his INR/Warfarin printouts. (Beautifully held together with a piece of string through a punched hole.) Coupled with a meticulously drawn graph, that The Old Man produced yesterday evening, tracing his INR level since his return home from Hospital.

The reason for this activity is the GP Surgery's phoned-in blood test result last night - reporting a raised INR level (again) but at the same time keeping him on a daily 3mg dose of Warfarin with another fortnight to wait before his next test.

So you can see. The Old Man is fore-arming himself for another set-to and a hows-yer-father with the medical trade.

What are you talking about? say you. What is this medical gobbledy-gook?

OK. Basically, INR is to do with the time it takes for your blood to clot - the higher the figure - the longer the time that it takes to clot. And the dosage of the anti-clotting drug is derived from a formula, based on the blood INR level. (If you can cope with technicalities you can find an explanation by clicking HERE)
Warfarin is the drug that controls this clotting factor in The Old Man's case. The Old Man needs this medication because of the artificial valve they gave him. Don't want blood to clot and mess it up, I guess. But at same time you can't run around with blood so unclotting that you bleed to death if you cut your finger. OK. Maybe a bit melodramatic on the explanation front. BUT it explains the dilemma over getting the drugs and the clotting time in balance.

Back to this morning.

The GP is duly shown the documentary evidence as to why The Old Man needs bloodtests more frequently than two weeks apart. And the aforesaid graph that shows his INR levels .... going up and down like the proverbial yo-yo. The GP agrees.

But it would also appear that "someone" has altered The Old Man's target INR level from the one that the Hospital issued him with. They have lowered it a fraction. But.... who or when or why.... could not be traced on the computer. (The Old Man, as an ex-Civil Servant, mutters darkly about "The Treasury Model" which, in his book, is a formula that allows for the result that you want as long as you know which figures to feed in to it.)

Whatever - the GP has now written in BIG CAPITALS that The Old Man is to have blood tests twice a week until stability has been achieved. And we shall see if this has any effect on things in practice.

Once again I say. Be vigilant. Our National Health Service is a lifesaver. But take responsibility for what's dished out to you. Don't accept everything handed to you or explained to you on the basis that "They Know Best". A system is only a system.

Tuesday, 10 August 2010

Old Man Update

OK. OK. So you want to know how the Old Man is doin these days.

Gap tooth smile? Fixed. Dentist glued the tooth in.

Fairy tale feet? Back to normal size. But in truth the diuretic drugs may be over efficient. The Old Man is beginning to resemble a prune.
He is a walkin case of body dandruff.
Don't think he should be dried out on this scale much more.
He could audition for a part in "The Curse of the Mummy's Tomb".

Warfarin? Settlin down a bit. This week that is.

Cardiac nurse? Never seen again.

Eyesight? New glasses. Optician says may not have been the drug that changed the sight. Could be the fluid retention and the effect of a major op itself. In fact Old Man's eyes a picture of health except for a smidgin of cataract in one. And eyesight moving back to what it was.

Should be seeing his cardiologist next week.

That will be interesting.

Or not.

Should be seeing the surgeon in September. That could be aerated. Or not.

There you are.

Still not able to walk as far as he would like before the energy runs out. Certainly not the 2 mile walk he could do before the operation. I think he gets a bit anxious about that.

As - probably- so do I.

Friday, 6 August 2010

The Old Man Revives

So the other evening The Old Man had a phone call from a friend in Scotland.

Now this friend and his wife are really into drugs. What I mean is - drugs as medication - not pastime. And these friends are so into them.... they teach about them.
Proper pharmaceutical stuff. But really.

And so I think that the Old Man has been cheered by discussing his "drugs" with them. Cos he wasn't sure what was his condition and what was to do with his new drugs.

For whatever the reason the next day he picked up and get more energy for doing things. He's tackling driving again, getting around, doing a lot more jobs about the place. And people are saying he's looking better.

But this week The Old Man noticed a relevant item in our local paper - The Cornishman.

You see, one of the drugs he was put on after the operation, he so hated that he was able to get it dropped after his collapse and readmission to hospital. I'm not saying that this drug caused the collapse - I'm sure it didn't.
But for sure, The Old Man didn't like being on it.

This drug was the heart drug Amiodarone. And sadly it's been implicated in the recent death of a local woman. You can read the item by clicking on Amiodarone article.

So just don't be afraid to challenge drugs you ain't happy with. But challenge may be the operative word.

Sunday, 1 August 2010

Reviewing the Situation

I suppose I might feel a little gloomy today.

It's raining.

It's two months on, or thereabouts, from The Old Man's heart surgery.

And it's sinking in that he has nowhere near the fitness - on at least one level - that he had before the operation. I'm not sure when he will be able to do the walking that he used to do. The two mile round trip to get his papers from the shop on the next village, for instance.
Upping and downing, carrying much, walking slopes. All whack him out at the moment. If they are within reach at all.

And sometimes I wonder (as I guess does he) what the op was for. But I suppose it had got to the point of not much option.

All of that optimistic crapola from medics and encouragers. Set against our constant repetition of his past medical history and possible complications. The neglect of our warnings. The subsequent cardiac arrest and intensive care. The demonstrable drop in the functioning of his heart after that - maybe as a consequence.

Yes, the heart nurse said that it can get better - (but could take 6 or 7 months).

And sometimes The Old Man wonders if it is his heart's fitness that is to blame, or the new drugs that he has been prescribed.

So today ..... I feel gloomy.

And angry.

And probably self-pitying.

What the hell.

I can't be entertaining all of the time.

Wednesday, 28 July 2010

Persistence is the Thing

The surgery rang back on Monday evening, after The Old Man's INR blood test in the morning, to tell him what dosage of Warfarin to take.

And by the by - his next blood test would be in "two weeks time".

The Old Man exploded. Told 'em that he needed two blood tests a week until his INR level had stabilised - cos it is still up and down like yoyo.

Reception rang back later to say that he could in fact have the twice a week that he wanted for now.

It left The Old Man puffing like a Grampus - but victory was his.

I tell you, sadly but with the wisdom of experience, - take nothing from GPs on trust. And stick to your guns. If you know where they are.

Tuesday, 20 July 2010

Proper Nursey comes to call.

So yesterday The Old Man waited in for the GP's phone call that he had specifically asked for. This was because the GP had said he would discuss the Old Man's Warfarin dosage size with the relevant Doctor in the practice.

And when I say "waited in" - I mean that The Old Man put off his daily 500 yard trip up and down the lane to exercise those muscles and heart pump. He put the walk off so long that it didn't happen. Cos he kept thinking the doctor would ring.

Did the Doctor ring?

Course he didn't.

But today we had a visit from the Cardiac Nurse. She stayed for about an hour gettin' the full story from The Old Man, taking his blood pressure, listenin' to his heart, talking about his drugs... talkin' about how to manage hisself. And assuring us that we were on the Cardiac Nurses' books and that our area Cardiac Nurse would be in touch once she was back from holiday.

She said: "Is it all right for you to be on our books?"

We said: "Oh YES."

Saturday, 17 July 2010

In which The Old Man gets his Kit Off

So.
The Old Man attends the Surgery for his Doctor appointment.

And as he enters the Doctor's room he starts to take off his clothes.

Doctor is a bit alarmed.
Doctor is a bit taken aback.

And The Old Man sits there, scars an' all, and points out that he wishes to be examined.

And he is. And his blood is tested. For several things. And his heart is listened to. And his lungs are listened to. And his blood pressure is taken. And he is pronounced pretty good considering.

And the Doctor appears chastened. He says that he would have had The Old Man admitted to Hospital the previous evening if he had known.

(How would he have known? It would have been "Useless Out of Hours Ltd" answering our call. Or not. As local reputation would have it.)

And a Blood Test Nurse is booked for visiting the Old Man on Monday morning.

And it is promised that his tablet dosage size will be discussed with the relevant doctor in the practice.

And The Old Man has made his point.

And the Old Man puts his shirt back on.

A Hiccup of Anxiety

As The Old Man waited for the surgery to ring in the results of his blood test the other day - so that they could also tell him his tablet dosage - time ticked on. He had come over all faint earlier and sat with his head between his knees. Doubtless pondering something.

Tick Tock.

He decides to take the usual tablet anyway. After all - last time they were 24 hrs late giving him the result.

When the phone does ring. About 7 o'clock that evening. The doctor tells him that his clotting time is very slow - so he mustn't take a tablet.
But he already had.
"Then come in to the surgery tomorrow and we will give you some vitamin K. And we will run some more blood tests."

The Old Man looks worried after the stupid late phone call. He thinks maybe he should dial 999.
The clotting time is like it was when he became very ill.

We stare at each other.

He rings the Hospital and asks for the Ward where he was treated. They listen to him, remember treating him, ask the registrar's advice - and tell him not to worry, what to watch out for, and to get a blood test at the doctor's the next day.

He feels relieved.
I am apoplectic.

Why can't this surgery take on board that he needs more frequent blood tests at the moment?
One a week is not good enough. With no examination of any other kind. No blood pressure checks. No listening to the heart. Then they ring up with his tablet dosage when they can get round to it.

Nursey's face turns red.
Nursey's language turns blue.
Nursey wants to chew someone up into little bits and spit 'em out with accuracy.

Nursey goes to bed early.