A Little Background

It was just a normal Sunday in October.

At 6 am, I was awake, but still loafing in bed. My ringing phone startled whatever peace was available before the kids and dog awoke.

It was Mom. She couldn't breathe and thought that she needed to go to the ER and get an adrenaline shot or breathing treatment. Asthma.

I was there in 8 minutes. She was fixing her hair and putting on lipstick. I helped her to the truck and away to the ER.

Never, in 47 years, have I had to take my Mom to the hospital. Other than childbirth, I am not aware of any hospital trip for her. Yes, it was out of the ordinary, but she had had some respiratory issues over the last few weeks, some chronic,  and had been through a round of steroids and antibiotics. We assumed that with the change of the weather and her allergy asthma, the burden on her lungs was just too much. So, we were alarmed, but more cautious than concerned.

I got her to the ER and they got her right in.

The ER physician came in and listened to her lungs and heart and asked the normal barrage of questions. Yes, she was congested. He ordered some oxygen, blood work, albuterol breathing treatment, and probably a chest X-ray. He promised to come back after the chest X-ray. He ordered some additional blood work. Mom tried to sell him some real estate and she thought that he was "just darling."

A hospitalist started on the case and came in and basically asked the same questions and promised the same return after a consultation with radiology.

Her lungs and initial blood work pointed to pneumonia. A room was ordered on the CVIU (cardiovascular) floor. A three to five day stay. Mom was not happy. She had an open house that afternoon and was certain that she would be home in time for the showing.

Very subtly, both doctors were sniffing around coronary issues. Mom wasn't listening, but Marty and I could sense a change in direction, demeanor and specific lines of questioning from the attending physicians.

Although she did have pneumonia and pleurisy, they were not convinced that those maladies were the only culprits. The second blood test was to look for an enzyme called troponin that is present when a coronary event has occurred. I'm not clinical, so don't judge my layman explanation, but when the heart muscle is in distress, and as the muscle breaks down after a heart attack, it releases some enzymes that are easy to identify. The presence of these enzymes don't apparently quantify the severity of the attack, but only that the attack has occurred. Mom had an MI. Myocardial Infarction.  That's a fancy way of saying HEART ATTACK.

We were all stunned. My Mom is the picture of heath. At 71, she looks like she is 59. She still sells real estate and flits about. She helps us with our kids and wrangles 2 dogs and 4 cats. She makes lots of time for her family. In the temperate months, she plays tennis and until recently, walked the malls a few times a week. She eats clean, has a daily glass of wine (or two). We would all be lucky to have her vitality.

Mom believes that all ills can be handled with a family physician, an asprin, a regular visit to the hairdresser, a cat on her lap and a chiropractor. She's probably right. She has always been suspicious of doctors and over the last decade has developed a powerful phobia of hospitals. At 71,  I am certain that a senior view of mortality helps to feed that apprehension.

Now the wave starts and the momentum increases. A room, more tests. X-rays, angiogram and ultrasound. She is on oxygen. She can't keep her  levels up without it. Now she has a Cardiologist, Pulmonologist, Radiologist, RN, and a constant stream of people asking her if she smoked. She thinks the Cardiologist is really cute.

In between the breathing treatments, blood pressure checks, fever checks and needle punctures, Mom keeps her lipstick fresh and picks her hair. She has pneumonia and has had a heart attack and yet one would think that she was getting a pedicure. She waits for the doctor as you would imagine a lady waits in the parlor for a gentleman to call for afternoon tea.

She had some really low moments during the day. Mostly, she had trouble breathing but I'm certain that the fear of uncertainty was a huge burden.

After a restless night, Monday was a day of rest and therapy. Most of the focus was getting a handle on the pneumonia. The Docs were concerned about a murmur and her heart rate continued to be elevated. She was, in effect, running in a marathon in bed.

The frequent blood tests for the presence of troponin did not trend in a direction that was desired by the cardiologist. Tuesday, a heart catheterization was performed.

Marty, my brother Steve and I were there during the catheterization and waited for the results anxiously. We were called back to recovery and met with the Doc. So, it turns out that she needs 5 coronary bypasses and an aortic valve replacement. Wow. No heart damage from the heart attack was good news.

We have all heard the buzz words. "Silent Killer." "Walking Time-bomb."

Mom came in for pneumonia and a much bigger issue was revealed. A blessing, really.

So, now the heart surgeon is on the scene. He is ready to go, but defers to the pulmonologist and other cardiologist in his group to decide the timing of the surgery. It was determined that the pneumonia must be completely resolved before surgery.

She was released on Wednesday to come home and recover. A chest x-ray will be done 11/3 and then a schedule will be set.

For the last few days, a near constant stream of folks have been offering help, companionship and food. Her coffers, cupboards and larders are full and the sheer volume of support is a testament to the love that all have for my Mom.

Chicken soup is good for the soul. She just hopes it freezes well.

I will update important times and try to keep her phone from ringing while she recovers.

For all of the prose police out there, I do my best.  Spelling, sentence agreement, frequent fragments, tense and usage will be totally wrong, frequent and blatant. I'm not sorry.