The Bypass

First of all, I’m here. That has to be the biggest part of it. Open heart surgery will always carry risks and depending on whether you’re the patient or the relative/ friend the stats are looked at from two very different perspectives. Relatives will tell you its nothing to worry about and it’ll be over before you blink. The patient worries. It’s 12 days since the Operation as I write this and I have been home from hospital just two days. I will tell you the story from start to finish warts and all as honestly as possible. I would suggest if you are about to have the same Op to ask yourself, “do you NEED the details at this point? “.

Wednesday 20th April 2016, It all starts. I had been told to phone the hospital at mid day to confirm it’s still on and they have not had an emergency. I get the green light and My son, Sam drives me to New Cross hospital. Parking here is not the hospitals strongest point however if you get to park outside visiting times there a plenty of spaces. This occasion took 20 minutes and several laps of the hospital ring road. Finding the ward was no problem and after the paperwork was completed they took me to my bed. Up till tea time I had been told I could eat and drink as usual however food was far from my mind. As the visiting times finished it was time to wave my son off. The walk back from the car park had the emotions running wild and at one point I sat on the wall contemplating my options. There were no others.

Pre bed preparations involved having a shower with a special red body wash and brushing my teeth with a specialized foul tasting toothpaste and finally dressing in the hospital pyjamas.  I spent the final hours of the evening reading my book in the hope of keeping the morning away, however the morning came and it was time for shaving. The nurse shaved my legs, chest arm and edges of the groin. I then had to go for another red shower and brush my teeth with the nasty tasting toothpaste. I get dressed in a hospital gown which serves on many an occasion to reveal my naked backside to all. The inhibitions are quickly forgotten. After a sedative they wheel me down to theater. On the way down the anesthetist is talking about going scuba diving and as a fellow diver I join in the conversation. In the Prep room we are still talking ………

I wake. I am now in intensive care where, I have a nurse at my bed constantly. they are now pulling the tube out of my mouth. My first thought is that, that didn’t hurt. I have absolutely no concept of time or who is around me. My throat is very sore and they try to give me some strong pain killers. They get them straight back but I must have been alert enough as I asked for a bowl to vomit into.The mattress on the bed is filled with fluid that moves in such a way that you are never uncomfortable. My memory is fragmented but I remember the kids being there at some stage although in which order I can not be certain. In and out of wakefulness had me dreaming the most bizarre dreams and this, I am told is the result of the drugs they give you. I am being sat up now and they are telling me that they want to put me in a chair. I know that I don’t want to move but in my mind I have promised to do exactly as they say. I have three tubes coming out of my chest cavity and a trace wire that is coming from my heart that leads to a box hanging from a hat stand by my bed. They want me to cough but I’m not sure the little voice in my head will allow such a stupid idea. They give me a cushion to hold to my chest while I coughed and after a token gesture they stand me up. The physiotherapist wants me to walk a circuit of the intensive care unit. doesn’t she know what they’ve just done to me? There will be no shuffling as she wants me breathless. I’m already speechless so we are half way there. with someone holding my heart box on a coat hat thing, someone with the box of chest tubes ( which they usually remove before the walk ) and someone with my bag of wee, we set out. we are going a fair old pace and with the encouragement I’m pushing the pace. I wont kid myself into thinking that it is any more than a walking pace but I’m flat out. 20 yards in and we have to stop as the way is blocked. I am breathing heavy now and start coughing. No doubt they got what they wanted from me and I somehow feel they usually win one way or another. Later in the afternoon They tell me they are going to remove the three drain tubes from my chest and send me to the ward. The removal of the drain tubes is something I am not looking forward to and the arrival of several doctors and nurses carrying a silver tray of surgical instruments does nothing to relax me. They tell me that they want me to take a deep breath and hold it while they pull the tube out. They suggest “we” do a trial run, I grit my teeth and tell them just to get on with it. I’m told to take a deep breath and hold. I feel the tube coming out and although its not particularly painful the sensation of pulling 200 mm of 15 mm tube out of my chest is weird. they tell me to breath again. They repeat this for the remaining two tubes and after the relief is immense.

They wheel me up to the ward where I am settled down and finally given time to relax a little. They have pulled the cannulas from the back of my wrist and arm now but the one in the side of my neck that has five tubes stays for now. They allow me a couple of days recovery for now. The drugs that I am being given are giving me lucid dreams and I struggle to keep the eyes open. My youngest son, Connor and my Daughter, Kiera make the mammoth trip to see me on the bus only to find me dozing off in front of them! The doctors have decided I’ve rested long enough now and order the nurses to get me up and walking about. Apparently the quickest way to recovery is to get up and moving about. Before I can become mobile they have to remove the catheter that they put in while I was unconscious. I hadn’t even realised it was in at first but I was well aware it was going to come out. I had to sit in the chair with the nurse facing me.With very little notice She simply started to pull the tube out. With both hands clutching the arms of the chair I can only say it was like being on a fair ground ride and wanting to get off. They removed the bunch of pipes from my neck which was a big relief. With some sort of mobility back the next few days saw me walking around the ward and just as they said, I gradually started to feel better.

Now that I was moving about I was also looking forward to getting home, however every now and again my heart beat would go into an irregular rhythm  ( atrium fibrillation ). This apparently they can cure through the use of medication in the form of tablets and, for a short while, two injections to the stomach. Every day my consultant would be there first thing in the morning and last thing at night without fail. On Sunday 1st of May, after his rounds He told me I could go home providing I returned daily for a blood test and closely monitored medication and the injections. They removed the trace wires from my chest that I had been dreading coming out without any pain and cut the few stitches that closed the tube holes up. I have now spent two nights at home and although the long daily trip to the hospital and back is a real chore, I am glad I am now home.

I cannot thank the Hospital, Doctors and all the nurses of New Cross Hospital enough for the attention and care that they have given me. I know it’s going to be a long road to a full recovery but the alternative would have been unthinkable.I know each journey is a personal one and the experience will vary from case to case but  hopefully this blog will help others understand the basic process.

I will write about my recovery…