Friday, July 14, 2017

It's all over but the shouting

I'm back at home from my adventures in angioplasty, which felt more like MY ADVENTURES IN A*N*G*I*O*P*L*A*S*T*Y!!! (with sincere apologies to Hyman Kaplan).

I spent two days in hospital with some very nice people that I hope I never need to see again, including an amazing cardiac surgeon who looked all of twenty years old but must have been about fifty. Just a kid*.

I came home Thursday afternoon with five stents in my coronary arteries that weren't there when I left on Wednesday morning.

It certainly isn't all about me, me, me but if you look closely you will find that the first three paragraphs of this post still managed to sneak in the personal pronoun eight times.

How thoroughly self-centered of them.

All things either having returned to more or less normal or having been significantly altered forever, depending on how you look at it, the period of recovery and rehabilitation now begins.

If you want to know more about angioplasty, click here.

Until next time, Seacrest out.

(Photo by Glenn Francis, 2013, used in accordance with the terms of GFDL)

*Ryan Seacrest, pictured above at age 39 in 2013, looks older than my cardiac surgeon. There's that darned personal pronoun again.

14 comments:

Yorkshire Pudding said...

It's a relief that you have come through this process. I understand you will now have to have medications to ward off the possibility of blood clots. It will be interesting to see if these stents improve your general well-being.

rhymeswithplague said...

Pudding, I'm counting on their doing so. I have felt well-supported in recent days by blogging friends and Facebook friends like you.

Emma Springfield said...

My youngest brother has had this surgery 3 times. He is still doing well. He is so young too. He will be 55 in a couple of weeks. The males in my family have a history of this kind of problem. Good luck and good health to you.

rhymeswithplague said...

I feel much better already, Emma, just after a couple of days, and have more energy. I'm not going to overdo, though, just try to take it slow and easy. I will be starting cardiac rehab shortly, two or three times a week for a while. It is encouraging to hear that your brother is still doing well.

Elephant's Child said...

I hope your recovery is quick, and that the improvement you notice is marked. And permanent.

rhymeswithplague said...

Thank you, Sue, I hope so too!

kylie said...

Hello,
Snowbrush sent me over here, actually he recommended you a long time ago and I had a wander through some of your blog but not having added you to my blog list I forgot to re-visit.
I hope the stents do their job, it will be good to get back to strength!
What i want to know about your surgeon is not if he looks younger than Ryan Seacrest but does he look as good?

Snowbrush said...

I can't believe that you impugned the character of that nice man from Yorkshire in the comment section to my blog, although I must give you credit for not doing it in "blue," or being notably mean about it, which brings me to wonder--though I doubt that you will tell me--what happened that you needed to spell out your distaste for incivility and profanity. At least I know it wasn't anything that I said because I haven't been here in ages, and when I do come around I not only don't try to sneak a dirty words past you, I even steel myself to avoid words like d-rn, h-ck, sho-t, and other words that, while not themselves profane, might be viewed as the language equivalent of training wheels or "starter drugs." You've never complimented on the strain it puts me to to make da_g sure not to offend you because it violates every fibre (I'll spell the word in a way that Yorkie will know what I'm saying) of my musculature to NOT say dirty words, but you're worth it, or at least that's what I keep telling myself,

I'm glad you're still alive, but sad that you had to tell me about your ordeal on my blog instead of me coming around to learn it on your blog.

I told Peggy of your problem, and she said, for the umpteeth time, "I sure like Rhymes" (she always calls you by your literary name), although I really don't know why she likes you so well--not there aren't a multitude of good reasons--other than that she appreciates your wit. You can take her approbation as a compliment, because she's not one to say such things casually. In fact, you're the only person whom she comes right out and says that she likes.

rhymeswithplague said...

Kylie, welcome to the rhymeswithplague blog, though I suppose it is more accurately a belated welcome, your having swung by before and all. Not swung by literally, but you get what I mean. Stay tuned on the Ryan-Seacrest-versus-my-heart-surgeon question as the big unveiling allowing you to decide for yourself will occur in my next post, Lord willing and the creeks/Creeks don't rise.

rhymeswithplague said...

Snowbrush, good to see you again; it's been too long. I didn't impugn that nice man from Yorkshire's character so much as shine some light on it. I must admit that he has been much kinder of late since he learned of my heart problems. He's not a bad person, he just likes to get my goat, stir the pot, ruffle my feathers -- you know, a lot like yourself. Sometimes I give as good as I get, but sometimes I grow weary of it all.

My preference for non-cyanotic speech stems from childhood, I think, when my parents instilled in me that profanity is a sign of a poor vocabulary and also sent me at age 7 to Sally Huffman's primary class at the local Methodist Church. Coarseness is, of course, very useful on occasion to emphasize one's point or to express very strong feelings. What we call the "dirty" words today were how the Anglo-Saxons talked normally among themselves until William came over from Normandy and conquered them in 1066. The speech of the conquered fell out of favor in polite society after that. All this being true, it didn't prevent my father from referring to the very large woman who cooked and cleaned and cared for my mother's needs during her final illness as "Lard a**" or a neighbor from saying about me to my mother, "He wouldn't say 's***' if he had a mouthful." I'm older now and it doesn't bother me so much any more but I have a reputation to maintain. Be yourself, that's what I say. Just don't expect me to respond in kind. I yam what I yam and that's all that I yam.

All Consuming said...

This isn't marvellous news, and I shall tell pa all went well too as I mentioned a friend was also having the same procedure as him. It's always a huge relief when these things are over and I'm sure the whole family at your end were awaiting news with baited breath. Good health sir! X Michelle

Graham Edwards said...

It's good to see that you came through firing on all ventricles or arteries so to speak. If you are like me (and I hope you will be) you will never look back. I had six (so I'm told although it does seem a trifle excessive). The daily aspirin is hardly a problem and after 17 years I'm well pleased. Good living for the next couple of decades.

rhymeswithplague said...

Michelle, I'm hoping that the old predictive-text gremlin somehow turned your "is" into an "isn't"! For more encouragement for your pa, see Graham's comment.

rhymeswithplague said...

Graham, I don't mind the aspirin. I have been taking it for the past 21 years, ever since the heart attack I had in January 1996 (an anterior myocardial infarction, they said). What does bug me is how much medication I am on now: seven pills every morning, three every night, Nitroglycerin at the ready in case I ever need, and occasionally a couple of extra-strength Tylenol just to top everything off. Aspirin seems the least of my worries.