The Journey

It was late January and I was heading out to play in my weekly tennis league. I had almost progressed to the  top of my tennis ladder in less than a month- not bad for a middle-aged, 46-year old father of three teenage girls. I knew something was up when I experienced some shortness of breath in the warm-up. I played through the match but did not feel like myself at all. I relayed this story to my wife and she was very concerned and suggested a trip to our family doctor. I tried to tell her that it was probably just the ear infection medication I was on, but if she made an appointment, I would go. I had no idea how important this decision was going to be for me.

When my doctor saw me later that week, he listened to my chest and heart and said that I sounded great and he had no real concerns. I told him that I would appreciate some further tests as I know what my body is capable of and my episode on the tennis court was not something that was normal for me. He agreed to send me to a specialist. Of all the ups and downs I went through, I found that waiting for the diagnosis was the most difficult part. It was the worrying and frustration of not knowing what was going on. From start to finish, it took five weeks to find out exactly what was the matter with my heart.

Testing

To try to get to the bottom of it, my doctor prescribed blood work, a chest X-ray, an electrocardiogram (EKG) and an ultrasound of my heart. When I went for the EKG, the technician asked if I had had a heart attack. I said no but thought her question was strange given that I just had some shortness of breath. Once the results came in, I was pleased to find out that everything was fine except for a slight “blip” on my EKG. To drill down even further, he wanted to send me for a stress test. That made sense to me as I had started a new job at work and thought maybe I needed some time off. Came to find out, it wasn’t THAT kind of stress they were testing for, though.

This stress test consisted of me walking on a treadmill while being monitored by the doctor. When they pulled me off of the treadmill after only eight minutes of walking, I was extremely concerned. What was wrong with me? I was an active guy in his forties and as far as I knew, I was healthy as a horse. On March 7th, which happened to be the anniversary of my father’s passing in 1991 from a massive heart attack, I got my stress test results. The “blip” I experienced definitely had something to do with my heart. My doctor prescribed a more in-depth stress test that also involved how blood flowed through my heart- a test called MIBI. Before I left, my doctor prescribed medication to lower my cholesterol and blood pressure as well as a daily dose of aspirin. But when he prescribed a nitroglycerin spray I just about fell over. At that point it dawned on me that I was being tested for heart disease.

A week later I went for the MIBI test with a great attitude: I was not going to let that treadmill beat me again! This time, however, I was pulled off after nine minutes and had to see the on-staff cardiologist. I knew something was wrong at this point. I was scheduled for an angiogram, an imaging test that uses X-rays to view the body’s blood vessels. Doctors often use this test to study narrow, blocked, enlarged or malformed arteries or veins in many parts of the body, including the brain, heart, abdomen and legs. The results were in. The angiogram revealed that I needed at minimum triple bypass surgery. My wife and I took all of the literature they supplied us from the Heart and Stroke Foundation, including the booklet entitled Recovery Road. This booklet talked about how nurturing your mental and emotional health during this trying time was just as important as nurturing your physical health. We also bought another guide that the cardiology nurse recommended: Thriving with Heart Disease, by Wayne M. Stile which helped my family to prepare for the surgery. At this point it was my intent to become a student of heart disease. This newly acquired information put me more at ease with my pending surgery because as they say, “knowledge is power.” My personal journey with heart disease had officially begun and I already had my sights on recovery.

The Waiting Game

I have always been a very positive person and see the glass as half full. But I do know that the heart disease tested my ability to keep a positive attitude. “It’s not what happens to you, it’s how you handle it that counts” became my rallying cry when I left the hospital after getting my diagnosis. I figured if I had a good attitude toward this whole ordeal, then hopefully my family would follow suit. I always said that this was an awesome second chance for me and I was going to take advantage of it. This helped to put my family at ease, though deep down, I was terrified. But I figured that my fear was all about having something to lose, which is entirely normal and natural. I never complained and if I had to choose one word to describe my true feelings it would be “anxious.” It was very difficult to be walking around knowing I had three extremely clogged arteries that might take my life at any moment.

The waiting was the hardest part. I was more acutely aware of every ping, pang, creak and groan of my body. Due to the fact that my diagnosis was caused by shortness of breath, I really had no idea what angina, chest pains or the other symptoms of a heart attack should feel like. This is where my doctor came in. He gave me some great advice and told me to exercise common sense and not do anything ridiculous such as raking or shoveling. It seemed so simple yet my doctor’s call and advice certainly helped to put my mind and body at ease.

That didn’t mean I was without health scares during the wait, though. One day I felt an odd sensation in my chest that I ignored for a few hours until it reemerged a few hours later. My wife and I immediately went to the hospital where they inserted an IV, ran some tests, hooked me up to a heart monitor and took more chest X-rays. I was there for the rest of the day and it wasn’t until dinner time that my doctor came in to tell me that my results were fine and I could go home. I believe the one thing that helped me get through the waiting game and this false alarm was the awesome support and guidance that I received from my family, friends, colleagues and doctors.

The Surgery and the Aftermath

My first memory coming out of surgery was waking up in the intensive care unit because it was so dark and lonely. I was groggy and the nurse came over to me immediately to see if I was OK. It was then that I realized that I had done it! I made it to my own recovery road and I was ready to get started. One of my first goals was to have the freedom to come and go as I pleased. I told my nurse of my plans and she promised me that if I could make five to six trips from my room to the patient lounge before lunch then I could have that freedom. I made 12. I had set and achieved my first goal and it was time to move onto the next ones which included making positive changes to my lifestyle. I lost 20 pounds and started eating a proper breakfast every morning. I religiously followed (and still do) Canada’s Food Guide.

When it came to building up my physical strength and endurance, I set some larger goals. My first one was to join my walking team for the fourth year at the annual 60 kilo-metre marathon walk. I am proud to say that I completed the walk on the second weekend of September- a mere 4 ½ months after my open heart surgery. Four months after that I ran a 5K race on New Year’s Day. Next came my winter tennis league and golf. Finally, on the one year anniversary of my surgery, I ran a 10K. I truly believe that I had such a successful and uneventful recovery because of my attitude. I was not a victim…I was a survivor. I was going to not only take that second chance at life that I was given, but I was going to…well…run with it.