Comfy PJs

Two weeks and 2 days until I have open heart surgery...

Before I get to the topic of the evening, let me jusy say this: I LOVE BENADRYL! I have had two great nights of sleep, minus nightmares even! And I'm feeling less tired during the day. I even biked for 5 miles tonight!

Okay, that said...

I'm sitting here eating Baked Doritos, watching "America's Got Talent" (I know, there's no accounting for taste), and wearing my very favorite cotton penguin PJs.

This is my routine: I get up in the mornings, shower, and put on my business casual attire, then go to work. After working all day, I get home and the first thing I do is put on my comfy PJs. I have so many pairs of comfy PJs that I need a separate dresser for them all.

If I could go to work in PJs, I would. Instead of casual Fridays when we get to wear jeans, we should have Pajama Days. We'll call them Comfort Days. Everybody could use a comfort day once a week, right?

And after I have surgery, I won't just have Comfort Day once a week, I'll have Comfort Day EVERY DAY! Never have I had a better excuse to wear my comfy PJs every day for many weeks. I know, you're all wishing you were me. Well, minus the heart surgery, of course.

Unbelievably, out of my vast collection there are very few PJs I can wear after my surgery. Why, you ask? Well, because almost all of them have shirts that I have to pull over my head. Once I've been cut open and stitched up, it will be very difficult (and painful!) to pull shirts over my head.

So much like the flip-flops, I need to expand my PJ wardrobe. I need button-down PJs, which will make it easy for the nurses to check my incision and chest tubes and other things while I'm in the hospital. And these will be easier for me to put on.

So I'm slowly acquiring a new PJ wardrobe. I wonder if I could wear any of them to work...

Summer Camp

Two weeks and 4 days until I have open heart surgery...

We did it. RobbieMax and I brought Will to summer camp yesterday without a tear shed. He won't be back until Friday. (sniff, sniff) Now I have another thing to focus on.

It's funny, because although we were/are nervous for Will, we are more nervous about how we'll handle this separation. Don't get me wrong, Will has spent time away from home before. But that was in a familiar place. With his grandma. And we got to talk to him at least twice a day.

But at camp, there are no relatives. Aside from counselors, he's on his own. And we can't talk to him. (Phone calls can bring on homesickness.) So we were very careful while packing his clothes. We packed outfits so that they were together and I took the role of "Queen of Embarrassing Moms" and wrote his name in everything. He must have been the only kid at camp with a huge duffel AND a suitcase full of labeled stuff (and that includes the girls!).

After RobbieMax and I left amid Will reassuring us that he would be fine ("I'll be fine- can I go back to playing the game now?"), we decided that we didn't want to get home to a house without Will. So we stopped at Borders. (No, we didn't go back to camp!) Borders has what they call a "Music Bar" where you can listen to music and compile and burn your own CD. RobbieMax and I spent 3 and a half hours there, each on our own CD. Will would have been really bored (or have found a book to read). It was fun, and took our minds off of how much we were missing Will already.

Today, we emailed Will (yes, we can email him!) so that he would know that we were hoping that he was having a great time.

I must say, it's been nice to have something else to worry about today. Although the impending surgery is always on my mind. I'm having nightmares and am having trouble sleeping. Today I called my doc, and she told me to take Benedryl to help me sleep. I don't know why I didn't think of that - it's more potent for me than NyQuil. So I'll be sleeping peacefully after taking Benedryl tonight. (I'm sure it's okay to mix it with beer. I won't be operating heavy machinery tonight.)

Movie Disappointment

Less than 3 weeks (2 weeks and 6 days, to be exact) before I have open heart surgery...

I'm a wealth of useless movie trivia. For some reason I retain a ton of information from movies that I've seen (and from some that I haven't). Never play Scene It with me, unless you like losing. I know, it's a blessing and a curse.

I love movies. I love to watch them in the theater, at home, at my friends' houses, anywhere. My very fave, as you know, is The Wedding Singer. I also love Gladiator, When Harry Met Sally, Sliding Doors, Saved, and Speed (RobbieMax and I got engaged after we saw Speed in the theater. I still don't understand how that movie put him in a romantic mood, but hey - I got a pretty ring and a wonderful man out of it).

I don't pretend to be a critic. I like almost every movie I've seen. But tonight I watched a movie that looked so promising, yet turned into such a far-fetched implausible flick, that I almost turned it off before I got to the end. (GASP!)
I've heard about The Forgotten (with Julianne Moore and Dominick West) and was very intrigued by the premise: Woman has memories of a son everyone else says doesn't exist. So I taped it off of Encore on my DVR a while ago and decided to watch it tonight. What a waste of time.

SPOILER ALERT! Do not read the next 2 paragraphs if you don't want to know what happened.

Well, it turns out that she was involved in a huge experiment involving aliens being surprised by how strong the bond was between mother and child. DUMB. The few special effects employed were cool, but not cool enough to save the movie. Once I saw where this was going, I was so tempted to stop it. But, trooper that I am, I pushed on and watched the rest of the movie. I repeat, what a waste of time.

I'm not against alien flicks. I saw and loved Signs and War of the Worlds. But the difference with these movies is that they put it all out there - you knew that you were watching a movie with aliens before you saw them. But I hate it when filmmakers try to shock us with a surprising twist about alien involvement. It seems far less believable and more like a cop out. Okay, off my soapbox.

END OF SPOILER.

And what do movies have to do with having open heart surgery, you ask? Well, I'm going to be recovering for at least 6 weeks before I go back to work. I gotta have SOMETHING to do. I'm trying to add "movies that I've always wanted to see but haven't" to my Netflix queue.

So, dear friend (or friends, if more than 1 person is reading my blog), I ask you for a favor. I would love it if you would give me some movie recommendations that I can watch during my convalescence. It would be nice to watch movies I haven't seen before.

All Stressed Up

Three weeks from tomorrow I'm having open heart surgery...

It just hit me this week that when they operate, they will be STOPPING MY HEART. They will inject it with a cold fluid (of course they will hook me up to a heart-lung machine before they do that), perform the surgery, and then shock my heart with internal paddles to get it going again. From the vast vocabulary of Keanu Reeves, WOAH.

I just got done watching The Wedding Singer. (What else?) That movie always cheers me up. "That's a good meatball..."

I had a rather embarrassing breakdown at work today. I was talking with a friend and coworker after a particularly stressful meeting (we were discussing who is taking over my projects after I leave), and I lost it. I've been really stressed about everything this week. Unfortunately, once the floodgates opened, the tears streamed forth. And I'm not a pretty cryer. Remember that scene in Gladiator when he finds his family dead and starts crying? There's that line of snot that runs down his face. That's me when I cry. Plus my face gets all splotchy. It is NOT a pretty sight. Good thing I wear waterproof mascara...

Because of the stress and my fatigue, I'm now working from home two and a half days a week and working in the office two and a half days a week. And I'm actually more productive when I work at home (despite the temptation of my large movie collection).

I've been too exhausted to go for my daily walk. Bummer.

My blood pressure dropped today. It's lower now than it ever has been. I called my cardiologist and was told that I need to take it easy and try to watch that. Oh, the joys of being a heart patient waiting for surgery.

So to combat the stress, I watched my favorite movie this evening. Next, I'm going to try to raise my heart rate by indulging in a little red wine, and then I'll eat a hot fudge sundae. Remember, these things are good for your heart. And my heart definitely deserves something good for it.

Red Wine and Dark Chocolate

Three weeks and 4 days until I have open heart surgery...

Red wine and dark chocolate. I could live solely on these. Of course, I'd be drunk all the time and gain a ton of weight from the combo, but hey - I'd be happy and obvlivious.

Red wine and dark chocolate. These are supposed to be good for your heart. Too bad that this works only in moderation.

I am NOT a white wine person. Not a big fan of Chardonnay. When I read my trashy romance novels, it really bothers me when the characters crack open a bottle of white wine. What's not romantic about red wine? Why is white wine the only romantic drink? Well, that's not really true - there's the Sex on the Beach, the Screaming Orgasm, and I'm sure that there are more romantically-named drinks out there, but I've never had them so I don't know what they are. (I once had a drink called a Vulcan Mind Probe - there's a reason that it was only that once.)

I don't really like milk chocolate. Dark chocolate is more my speed. And it's also supposed to be good for your heart. How lucky is that?! Every once in a while I buy a Hershey's Special Dark candy bar during the work day, and then treat myself to one little square each afternoon. That candy bar lasts me for a while. Dark chocolate also tastes really good in S'Mores. (YUM)

I'm gonna go find something to eat now...

Rollercoaster Rides

Three weeks and 5 days until I have open heart surgery...

Yesterday was the last day I had a chance to have a day with Will before my surgery. So I took him to our local amusement park. It has many good thrill rides and rollercoasters. This is always an annual trip and is a special day for my son and me. RobbieMax doesn't share the same love of scary thrill rides. He's not really an adrenaline junkie. (Plus, he used to get sick while spinning Will around in the living room. I don't think he could handle the rides Will and I go on...)

It's my fault that Will loves these rides. I took Will on his first rollercoaster ride when he was 3. (Gimme a break - he was tall enough and it was the Ripsaw at the Mall of America - a very tame rollercoaster.) Since then, we've had a blast going on rides whenever we can. And he's been tall enough for years to go on the big rides. (My 10 year-old is already 5' 2" - almost as tall as me!) He is my favorite riding buddy.

Anyway, despite the fact that severe weather was in the forecast, Will and I headed to the amusement park and got there at opening - 10 AM. I ignored the heart warnings on the signs at each of the rollercoasters and drop rides and went on them all. I've never had trouble in the past (and I've never considered myself a heart patient until 6 months ago), so I figured I'd ride at my own risk. I never had a problem yesterday. My ticker kept on ticking.

It was very humid and we were sweating after the first three rides. So we decided to go on some water rides. They were fun, cool, and refreshing. Then it rained - a downpour that soaked us to the bone. This lasted about 20 minutes. A few hours and many rides later, we were almost completely dry.

Then at about 6:30, it rained again. Another downpour that soaked us within 3 minutes despite huddling under our meager shelter of a tree. This lasted for another 20 minutes or so. Then it started getting dark and cooler. For the next 3 hours Will and I rode on our favorite coaster (in the back seat, hands way up) over and over again.

This ride has a camera in the tunnel so you can get your picture taken of you riding on the coaster. Will and I know exactly when the picture is snapped, so we enjoy doing strange things for the camera. Yesterday we planned out our shots - we made faces, we pretended to sleep, be scared, act like we were dead, and my personal favorite, we pretended like we were going to puke.

I was tired and ready to go home after that last downpour at 6:30. But Will was so excited to stay until our pre-determined time of 9:30 that we stayed. And we were wet and freezing for 3 hours. It was a blast.

I had never looked forward to getting home and into warm and dry clothes more than I did last night. We spent the majority of yesterday being wet. But Will had a great time. And I had a great time hanging out with my son.

I've realized that the last 6 months have been an emotional rollercoaster ride for my family and me. We went from not even thinking about possible heart problems at all (I was led to believe that I was "cured") to finding out that I need to have open heart surgery this summer. During this time I've felt every emotion you can feel. I'm angry that I was never told that a reoperation was possible. I'm apprehensive about the surgery. I'm scared about the effect this (and my future as a heart patient) will have on my family. I'm exhausted worrying about it. And now that it's less than 4 weeks away, I'm positively frightened about having to go through this. Again.

It sucks.

I prefer to ignore the heart warnings and go on a rollercoaster ride. Not live one.

Ventilators vs. Respirators

Oh my God. I'm having open heart surgery in exactly 4 weeks.

I'm trying really hard not to freak out. I've been reading a lot about the procedure this week (bad idea, I know), and I really don't want to have this done. I know it's necessary and will improve my quality of life (I'll be less tired, have more energy, will be able to walk up the stairs without getting short of breath, etc.), but getting to that point is very scary.

I'm going to wake up on a ventilator (not a respirator). How long I'm not it depends on how fast I'm able to start breathing on my own after I wake up.

What's the difference between a ventilator and a respirator, you ask? Well, medterms.com defines ventilator this way:

Ventilator: a machine which mechanically assists patients in the exchange of oxygen and carbon dioxide (sometimes referred to as artificial respiration).

Respirator: a device designed to protect the wearer from inhaling harmful dusts, fumes, vapors, and/or gases. (I found this definition on wikipedia.com.) Someone using a respirator would be wearing some sort of a gas mask.

These terms are now another one of my pet peeves. Like when someone (Dubya, for example) pronounces the word, nuclear, like this: nuk-yuh-lar. The word is clear with nu in front of it. NUCLEAR. How hard is that to pronounce? Or when a newscaster says that someone will be spending 3-5 years in jail. That's impossible. A criminal can only spend up to one year in jail. If their sentence is over a year and a day, she or he will be spending that time in prison. Jail = 1 to 365 days. Prison = 366 days and up. (I took a law class in high school. I was even on my high school's Mock Trial team.)

So anyway, I will be on a ventilator when I wake up. I will have a tube down my throat and into my lungs. A machine will be breathing for me. But with any luck, I will be so high on pain meds that I won't even realize that this is happening when I wake up, or remember it when everything is done.

Other than my family and a few friends, I'm not sure if anyone is even reading my blog. But even if no one reads this, I still would be writing in it. This has been very helpful for me, and I will keep on writing.

Hairstyles (or lack thereof)

Four weeks and 1 day until I have open heart surgery...

I was born with naturally straight hair. And depending on the decade, this has been either the "in" thing or the dorky thing.

When I was a kid, straight hair was NOT the "in" thing. My mom also didn't like the straight hair. My sisters and I got Ogylvie Home Perms every 6 months or so. I can still smell the odor of the solution...

I need to preface my next paragraph by warning you that I'm a child of the 80's. The decade of big hair, short pouffy skirts, tight-rolled jeans, and glam rock.

I permed my hair. But not only did I perm my hair, but I spiral permed my hair. And if THAT wasn't bad enough, every day I woke up at 5:00 AM, dried my spiral-permed hair with my turbo hair dryer, and then proceeded to curl it with my spiral curling iron. Forty minutes and a half a can of hair spray later, I had artfully arranged my hair into what RobbieMax still calls the "Tri-State Poofter."

My last perm was in the summer of 1991 - the summer before my junior year of high school. It took over 3 years for my spiral perm to grow out. And I swore that I would never get a perm again.

Fast forward 15 years...
I have two hair dryers: one to dry my hair and one that has a brush on it that curls my hair. I used to use both every day.

About a month ago, it struck me: I will not be able to lift my arms to do my hair after my surgery. It will hurt too much.

One morning, I was pondering this as I was getting ready for work, when RobbieMax said, "Your hair is getting long." I responded by telling him that I was thinking about chopping it off. He asked why, and I told him that I wouldn't be able to do my hair after my surgery. RobbieMax then replied, "I'll do your hair." (Awwww...sweet, isn't he?)

But to avoid looking like my husband does my hair (no matter how sweet the offer), I have stopped doing my hair altogether, just to get used to it. And I've discovered that my hair has changed. It's got a natural wave now. I can let it completely air dry and it looks as though I got a soft perm and styled it. I used to hate those people who didn't have to do anything and their hair looked good. And I'm one of those people now! ("Don't hate me because I'm beautiful...")

So it turns out that I don't have to worry about doing my hair after my surgery. It doesn't need it. And vain though it may sound, I am very happy about this.

I'm signing off - my fabulous looking unstyled hair and I are going to watch a movie with RobbieMax. Have a great night!

My Coworkers

Four weeks and 2 days until I have open heart surgery...

Have you ever wished that you had a job that you really liked to do and coworkers that you genuinely like and respect? Or been extremely envious of someone you know who does have that?

Well you can be all jealous, because that someone is me. I work in publishing - I develop and edit children's curriculum. It may sound boring, but it's actually pretty fun. Yep - I create stuff that will help teachers mold young minds. Scary, huh?

This Friday, I will have been at my job for 3 years. In that time, I've worked on some really fun projects. But best and most importantly of all, I've made some great friends.

We try to eat lunch together every day. We go shopping together. We have girls' night out at each others' houses. We vent...we cry...we laugh...we support each other.

My friends at work have been so supportive and wonderful since I found out that I may need open heart surgery. Before I left to have my testing in March, they bestowed on me the greatest care package a girl could ask for: magazines, Coke Zero (when I could still drink it), ducky flip flops, a red swingline stapler (in the grand tradition of the movie "Office Space"), Caribou Coffee giftcards, a really cool green photo box, "Dirty Dancing Ultimate Edition" (surprisingly, a movie that I did not yet own), a knitting kit (I am now knitting my dad a scarf), my favorite snack foods: Earl's Cheese Puffs (you'll think you've died and gone to heaven), White Cheddar Popcorn, Hot Tamales, and Pirate's Booty (you can find this at any upscale grocery store), and I'm sure there's more that I'm forgetting (sorry girls!). All of this came in a great big green bag, along with a smaller bag that matches. After drying my tears because I was so touched that they would do this for me, I jokingly said, "What are you guys going to do for me if I need to have open heart surgery?"

I dragged this thing all over Mayo (well, RobbieMax dragged this thing all over Mayo). It was a lifesaver. I munched and read while waiting for tests and test results.

Now my wonderful coworkers are planning a "Party Heart-y with Julia" Party on July 1st. Will and RobbieMax are invited too. And they all are asking me what they can do to help me before, during the hospital stay, and after surgery.

I am working from home one and a half days a week, mostly to be with Will because he no longer has school, and partly to help with the stress levels at work so it doesn't adversely affect my health. This was my supervisor's idea.

And if I start freaking out (like I did today), I know I can visit any one of them in their cube and they will listen to my irrational fears about surgery (neck IV, anyone?) and help bring me back down from the edge of panic.

Everyone should be as lucky as I am. I love my job, but most importantly I love my friends at work. And I think they love me. What more can an editor ask for?

The Hated Walk

Four weeks and 4 days until I have open heart surgery...

I'm sorry I haven't written. After working all day on Saturday, I couldn't bring myself to even turn on the computer on Sunday. And last night after I got home from work, RobbieMax, Will, and I went bike shopping. For me. And I got a new bike!

And this brings me to my subject at hand - walking.

I prefer to live the sedentary life.

I haven't always felt this way. I danced throughout my childhood and on danceline in college. (I was never a "ball" sport girl. I was ALWAYS that girl in Phy. Ed. that got hit in the face with the ball. My face is a ball magnet.)

But as I get older and my job gets more demanding and I get more fatigued, there's nothing I want to do more when I get home from work than to put on my PJs and read or watch TV.

But that is not my life anymore. According to my cardiologist, I have to walk. Five days a week. And I have to get my heart rate up to 120 BPM and sustain that for about 20-25 minutes. It's not hard to get it up there, but it is hard to sustain it. And I feel quite conspicuous and dorky having to stop and check my heart rate, looking at my watch while my fingers are on my neck pulse when other people are walking or driving by. They probably think I'm very strange or a young heart patient. Let's face it - I am both.

I've been walking 3-5 days a week, two and a half miles a day, since the end of March, and I've built up some endurance, which will help my recovery.

But I HATE to walk. I never look forward to the walk, I only look forward to being done with the walk. I feel that way even when I'm walking. Sad, but true.

So to change things up a bit, we've been bike riding (well, once). I have this old men's mountain bike that I bought 10 years ago when I was both much younger and much more limber. It's a study in hilarity watching me trying to get on and off that bike. My leg doesn't go that high anymore, and the middle bar is quite high. It also has a steel frame, which makes the bike very heavy and cumbersome. The one time we went riding a few weeks ago, I had so much trouble getting on and off (the dang bike bucked me off, I swear) and pedaling up hills. So, we decided that maybe I would ride more if I got a new bike. A girl's bike. With a middle bar that wasn't so high.

This brings us to yesterday. We shopped for over three hours, and went to 3 different places. And of course, we ended up buying the most expensive (would I have anything less?), yet the most comfortable and cute bike, and the one at the first bike shop we went to.

My new bike is a Raleigh Venture - it's a comfort bike. This means that I'm sitting upright instead of leaning far over to the handlebars like on my old bike. What a change for my back! My new bike has the most comfortable seat on which I've ever ridden. It only has 7 gears, which is even more than I need. My bike is pearly white, and the middle bar is so low, that I do not need to be an acrobat to get on. I LOVE IT! It's so cute - it's like a VW Bug instead of an old muscle car.

So of course, even though we got home after 9 we still had to take a bike ride. In the dark. But that was okay, because my bike has reflectors on the back of the seat and in the front of my handlebars.

And I made it up all the hills without having to walk the bike up! Of course, I put the gears into the lowest gears (on the "spazz" gears with my legs flying at 100 MPH). But I conquered those hills, even if I looked funny doing it!

Yes, biking is a nice and fun alternative to walking. I'm actually looking forward to getting out on that bike today, spazzy gears and all.

A Day Without Fun

Four weeks and 6 days until I have open heart surgery...

I just got done working. I worked today from about 9:30-6:30. That sucks. But at least I'm done now and can enjoy my weekend.

I'm sick of being on the computer. My brain is fried. I can't think of anything to write about today. Sorry all...

Sully and Henry

Five weeks exactly until I have open heart surgery.

I apologize for not writing yesterday. It's been a hellish week at work, and after working late- again- I collapsed into bed before 9:00. Sad, I know.

So here I am happily drinking my one can of Coke Zero and watching the movie, Garfield with Will. Bill Murray voices Garfield, so it can't be all that bad, can it?

Speaking of cats, we have two of 'em - a very cute Siamese named Sully, and a very sweet orange tabby named Henry. Sully and Henry have a love-hate relationship. Henry loves to eat and Sully loves to "play" which Henry hates. Sully is relentless in his pursuit of Henry. It gets really annoying when they're fighting, er, I mean playing, on my feet in bed as I'm trying to sleep.

Henry is a lot like Garfield - his main focus is on food. He would eat lasagna every day if we gave it to him. When we open the door to our fridge, he sits right in front and peruses the food selection. (As if he would actually like eggs, bread, juice, and beer.) He is relentless in his pursuit of food.

(I'm really having trouble watching the CG cat. This movie would be better if Garfield wasn't computer generated. What About Bob? is so much better!)

Henry has a real loud purr. And he drools a lot when he purrs. He LOVES RobbieMax. RobbieMax is Henry's very favorite person. I'm not sure how I feel about that, since every other cat we've had has loved me best. Maybe Henry and I will bond while I'm recovering from surgery.

Sully has the cutest face on a cat that I have ever seen. And he's a real sweetie - he's just so focused on what Henry is doing that he doesn't have time to be sweet all that much. We've had Sully longer, which explains it.

Sully loves food, too. We have to bungee the pantry doors together because otherwise Sully will climb in.

Sully has a quiet, almost nonexistent purr. He likes to snuggle and sleeps up by my head, most of the time.

Wow. I really talked a lot about my cats. I didn't mean to do that. The movie just put me in the mood, I guess.

My freak-out moment today was that I have so much work to do and so little time in which to do it. I have so much stuff to get done, and other stuff to prepare and hand off before I go on leave. I'll be working almost every weekend up until then. I'm really not looking forward to that.

Well, I better finish my movie and my Coke. I don't want to be up until 3:30 AM tonight. I gotta work tomorrow.

Flip-Flops

Five weeks and 2 days until I have open heart surgery. Actually, 5 weeks from today I have pre-op testing and an appointment with my cardiologist. I have a blood draw at 7 AM that day. Not the most ideal way for me to start out the day...

Let's get to the topic at hand: flip-flops.
I am of the firm mindset that a woman can never own too many pairs of shoes. (Robbie Max does not agree with me, but he's a guy, so what does he know?) But lately I have not been able to wear many shoes from my impressive (and fun) shoe wardrobe. My feet are too swollen. This is an unfortunate symptom of my current heart issue. It's like I'm pregnant again, only without the morning sickness, the big belly, the waddling, the baby kicking, the constant feeling of having to pee...okay - so maybe it's NOT like I'm pregnant again. But I did have swollen feet and ankles when I was pregnant with Will. So it's kind of like that.

But fortunately I have been able to wear my flip-flops. Flip-flops come in many different colors - red ones, green ones, black ones, blue ones, white ones, clear ones - any color you can imagine; and styles - fancy, strappy, athletic, comfy, orange with duck patterns, terry cloth, thick-soled, thin-soled, you name it. And I own almost every single pair imaginable. My flip-flop collection is so vast I need a separate closet for them all. And every time I come home with a new pair of flip-flops, RobbieMax and Will both roll their eyes as if to say, "Another pair? What didn't you have already?"

In my defense, the most I have paid for a pair of flip-flops is $16.99 (+ tax) and these were Tevas, my current favorite pair (they are so comfy, I suggest you go to Famous Footwear and try on a pair). I bargain hunt. And shop at Payless and Target.

Yep, flip-flops have been my saving grace this summer. And the perfect excuse to buy more shoes. After all, if these are the only type of shoes that actually fit me right now, what other choice do I have?

Tetralogy of Fallot

Five weeks and 3 days until I have open heart surgery...

I was born with Tetralogy of Fallot. Here's the definition from WebMD:

"Tetralogy of Fallot is the most common form of cyanotic congenital heart disease. Cyanosis is the abnormal bluish discoloration of the skin that occurs because of low levels of circulating oxygen in the blood. Tetralogy of Fallot consists of the combination of four different heart defects: a ventricular septal defect (a hole between the ventricles of the heart); obstructed outflow of blood from the right ventricle to the lungs (pulmonary stenosis); a displaced aorta, which causes blood to flow into the aorta from both the right and left ventricles (dextroposition or overriding aorta); and abnormal enlargement of the right ventricle (right ventricular hypertrophy). The severity of the symptoms is related to the degree of blood flow obstruction from the right ventricle."

Before surgery, I couldn't go up the stairs in my house without being short of breath. When I played Tag with the neighborhood kids, they would always tag me because they knew I couldn't tag them. (But my sister, Lynn, would let me tag her and then she would go and tag everyone else. Aaaahhhh, sweet revenge.) I couldn't go for walks because I got too tired out. I couldn't do much.

I had my first open heart surgery 28 years ago when I was four and a half. Amazingly, I can remember quite a bit about my surgery and hospital stay. It was a misty June morning, and I had my brown and pink flowered cloth suitcase packed. Once at the hospital, my dad held me while they put me under. I woke up after surgery, and my parents were smiling, spinning above me. I was in the ICU for 1-2 days, and in the hospital for a week. I shared a hospital room with three other girls who had had open heart surgery.
One night I couldn't sleep, and was really bored. I just stared at the hand controls for my bed, which also included a white button to call a nurse, wondering what would happen if I pushed the white button. Finally, I could resist temptation no more, and pushed the white button. Immediately a nurse came from bed to bed, asking if we had pushed the button. Too chicken to admit it was me, I shook my head no and turned over. I wonder if they ever found out I was the culprit. The one who made that nurse get up and walk to the beds, wondering if anything was wrong. Since I never got in trouble for that, I'm thinking no.
I hid on the day I was supposed to get my stitches out because I was afraid it would hurt. I went in the playroom and hid under the slide. My doctor found me anyway. I had 37 blue stitches, and it didn't hurt at all when they took them out.

The best thing about the hospital was the ice cream and the presents. I could have any flavor of ice cream I wanted. And I ate a lot of it - popsicles, sundaes, you name it. I ate ice cream every day.
For a 4 year-old, having visitors who bring lots of presents is heaven. I got stuffed animals, a peach nightgown, toys, and more toys.

After I recovered, I could do almost anything other kids could do. I could RUN up the stairs in my house and not get winded. I could play Tag with the neighborhood kids and actually TAG them. I could take walks. I could ride my bike. I could dance.

Now I'm facing my 2nd open heart surgery. I'm hoping that my recovery will be as noticeable as it was when I was a kid.

I'll be in the hospital for a week again. I wonder if I'll get toys and lots of presents... But I bet there will be ice cream.

A Life Without Caffeine...

Five weeks and 4 days until open heart surgery...

An Ode to Caffeine: A Limerick
I used to drink caffeine every day
To keep fatigue and sleepiness at bay.
My bad heart made me stop
And drink decaf pop
At my desk now I'm snoozing away.

I love caffeine. It was my only addiction. My only vice. This was my daily routine: In the morning I would drink a 20 ouncer of either Diet Code Red Mountain Dew or Coke Zero. In the afternoon I would have another 20 ouncer of whatever caffeinated drink I was in the mood for. Not excessive, I know. But it was my thing.

My cardiologist said that caffeine couldn't be a part of my daily routine anymore. So I was brave and quit cold turkey. After three days of headaches, I had caffeine for 3 days in a row and then quit again. So after another 3 days of headaches (and many Ibuprofen pills later), I was able to stop.

I've noticed that the caffeine masked one of my main heart-related symptoms - fatigue. I'm tired all of the time now and have started working from home 1 1/2 days a week. I try to stay up past 10 at night, but almost always end up falling asleep on the couch between 8:30-9:30 PM. It sucks.

Now I just treat myself to a can of Coke Zero on Fridays, as a celebration for getting through the week. Plus, if I don't have it, I'll be zonked on the couch by 7:30 and will miss hanging out with RobbieMax and Will.

I have learned something valuable - I can NEVER have caffeine after about 7. I went to an 8:00 movie (Poseidon) with my friend, Suzanne. I got a large Diet Coke, and drank half (plus ate yummy movie popcorn). I was up until 3:30 in the morning and I had to force myself to go to bed. Which wouldn't have been a bad thing, except I was leaving early the next morning for a weekend trip. I wasn't much fun that weekend.

So now I'm living a life without caffeine. And I miss it. Sigh. But alas, it was better to have loved and lost than never loved at all.

"Bratwurst-Cheese-Antiques-Latte-Liquor"

Five weeks and 5 days until I have open-heart surgery...

So I'm driving to Madison and suddenly this guy in a silver Trans Am with an out-of-state license plate that says, "The Gip" drives up behind me and starts riding my bumper. I'm in no way a slow driver, and Gipper is acting like I'm going 35 MPH (for the record, I was going 75). Even though there's another lane that he can easily pass me in, he stays on me for a few minutes. Then he zooms around me and speeds away - he must have been going close to 90. Glad that he's off my back, I don't give him another thought. That is, until about 15 miles later when I see that The Gipper has gotten pulled over and he's getting a speeding ticket. (That almost NEVER happens!) I do not feel guilty about the feeling of wicked glee that came over me.

Madison was so fun. Sarah and I went to the Great Dane and I had a glass of my favorite beer of theirs, Crop Circle Wheat. I highly recommend it. We did walk down State Street, and we came to the "adult" store. Not surprising - we didn't go in. BUT the family (yes, family - with two teenage kids) who were walking in front of us did. The WHOLE family went into the "adult" store. I don't want to think about what they were shopping for.

On my way home, I noticed a store in an old barn at the Osseo exit. The reason I noticed it was because the whole side facing the freeway was painted, advertising what they sell: "Bratwurst-Cheese-Antiques-Latte-Liquor." I admit, I was tempted to stop and get a latte and spike it with vodka, then load up on brats and cheese curds (who wouldn't?), and shop for that elusive antique that will make me rich when I bring it on Antiques Roadshow. But I was munching on white cheddar popcorn and diet Coke, and wasn't quite ready to stop snacking. And besides, I was jamming to my Keane CD and didn't want to leave the musical cocoon of my car.

As I was driving, I had my panicking thought for the weekend - it's June - that means my surgery is NEXT MONTH. I'm so used to thinking of it in terms of the distant future, and the fact that it's NEXT MONTH is kind of freaky. So after choking down a few more handfuls of white cheddar popcorn and gulps of diet Coke, I was finally able to curb the panic attack, turn up the volume of my stereo, and lose myself in the tunes of Keane. (The songs toward the end of their CD have a nice calming effect.)

Well, I'm exhausted. It's amazing how much driving can take out of you when all you do is sit for hours.

Getting Outta Dodge

I'm heading to Madison today to visit friends. This is the last time I'm going out of town before my surgery, so I plan to make the most of it.
My friend, Sarah, and I are going to have a girls' night out on State Street. We'll probably start out at the local brewery and take it from there. State Street is so much fun - just a variety of shops, pubs, and even an "adult" store (which we will walk past but not go in - we're either too chicken or too boring, I can't decide which).
RobbieMax and Will are heading to the zoo today. (Currently they are at Micky D's getting some breakfast - an Egg McMuffin and OJ for me - the perfect heart-healthy breakfast.)

There's no new worry today. I'm still stuck on the IV in the neck thing. I have found that I'm not really worried about the surgery itself - let's face it - I'll be out and if the worst happens, I won't even know it. It's what happens AFTER I'm awake that I'm worried about. You might as well know this - I have a very low pain tolerance. Yep. I'm a big baby. I cry like there's no tomorrow when I have to get blood drawn or get a vaccination. (Getting a flu shot this year for the first time was quite embarrassing.) I don't voluntarily subject myself to needles. (Needlephobic, remember?)

RobbieMax and Will are back with my culinary delight. Then I'm off to Madison.

Six Weeks to Go...

Hello. My name is Julia Hart and I am having open-heart surgery in 6 weeks.
Actually, my name isn't really Julia Hart, I stole it from my favorite movie, The Wedding Singer. (Names have been changed to protect the innocent, namely me - but let's face it - in the words of Britney Spears, "I'm not that innocent." It's sad that I know that...)
I really AM having open-heart surgery, though. Why, you ask? Well, it's a long story. One I will not tell in a single night.
This is the first time in my entire life that I've ever attempted keeping any sort of a daily log (or blog, as it were). I figured that since surgery is a mere 6 weeks away, it would be kind of cool to write about things. So here I am. Writing. About things.
I have found that as the surgery date approaches (and I've had this date set for 6 weeks), I find new things to worry about. My main worry right now is the IV that's most certainly going to be in my neck. Considering the fact that since I am extremely needlephobic (anyone know the technical name for that?) and very squeamish, this will be difficult to work with. It might be detrimental to my recovery, which I will most certainly tell my surgeon when I meet with him the day before my surgery.
I have a husband who wants to be called Maximillian (but let's face it, he's more of a Robbie) who has been extremely (and humorously) supportive since we found out about the surgery when I saw my cardiologist in March. I have a 10 year-old son (oops! ten and a half) we'll call Will, who doesn't really know the impact this will have on our lives.
Random thought: I am watching The Silence of the Lambs as I write this, and right now I'm in the mood for a nice Chianti. I think I'm just glad that Hannibal Lechter wouldn't want to eat MY heart.

Well, I think that's all for now. Thanks for reading. Stay tuned for another episode of the Hart Chronicles.