I haven’t posted about my father’s poor health for the last few weeks. Probably because this forum is so public, and I was too scared/neurotic/superstitious that something bad would happen. I’m still nervous, but I’m about 10zillion times better than I was. And, well, so is he.
three and one half weeks ago my dad was having a reguarly scheduled stress test on a week in which he’d had some chest pains and they emergency ambulanced him to the hospital for immediate artery rotorootering. He’d had another heart attack, 6 years after the one he had in the spring of 1998. I drove to albany to see him that friday night in order to reassure myself he was really and truely ok. The next day I then went to PGH to help michelle move, leaving at 5:30 in the morning to be sure to get there before our just ducky tour. He did very well in the hospital, and they sent him home on saturday.
Tuesday morning he woke up in the wee hours with pains again, and maggie took him back to the hospital. and he stayed there for another week and a half while they tried to figure out what was going on. he had these pains every few days, and one time it might have been another heart attack, but they didn’t know how to treat the other ones except to give him morphine for the pain. It was incredibly stressful. While I was in florida for paulina and nestor’s wedding I found out how frequent the “episodes” were and how lacking the long term plans for treatment were. I was very upset. we all were.
And then… the pains stopped. They think maybe after his myocardial infarction and the rotorootering the debris could be bothering the smaller arteries around his heart and causing pain. They weren’t heart attacks, which is excellent, but because they didn’t know WHAT they were and they felt like heart attacks, well, it was a scary week or so, and the only good side to him being in the hospital was that there, at least someone would be able to tell if he WAS having another heart attack. They sent daddy home last weekend, and he’s spent a relaxing time convelesing.
So for father’s day I made dad a gift of marginally questionable taste: an embroidered anatomical heart dish towel. I would have made a tshirt, but couldn’t find one in his size in time. I am so thankful I was able to spend another father’s day with my daddy. Oh, my heart, indeed.
