Before you have time to get over "Angiogram Day", it's "Angioplasty Day". I've never been in an ambulance, but I imagine the ride is much smoother than the transport vehicle used to shuttle me to and from the hospital specializing in performing angioplasty procedures. It didn't bother me very much on the way there, but coming back was a pain in the...back. I'll explain in a bit.
An angioplasty is a procedure to repair damage that shows up on an angiogram. It is done in two possible ways:
a) A balloon is inflated (and subsequently deflated) at a site where an artery is restricted in order to allow better blood flow.
b) A stent (tube/sleeve) is positioned at a restricted site to prevent it from future blockage.
I had one of each. You may be awake (as I was) during the procedure and the pain in the chest is very similar to a heart attack. I felt it for about the next 24 hours.
As soon as they finished, a nurse came by and said "Oops" and proceeded to describe the egg-sized balloon in my groin that had formed because of some problem with removal of the catheter. She managed to resolve this not uncommon occurrence by pressing on it with all her weight for about the next twenty minutes. Do I need to mention that it wasn't pleasant? Ouch.
Now, began the four hours of lying perfectly still on your back. As they rolled me out to the transport vehicle, my back was already starting to hurt. The bumpy ride back to the original hospital through rush hour traffic wasn't pleasant or scenic as all I could see in my position were light standards. As we neared (I asked) our destination, I was silently praying that the pain in my back that was now slowly gathering at my kidney just like the day before, did not reach Level 10 before they got me to my room.
I was in bed with only minutes to spare before I had to ask for a shot of morphine for the pain. Two more days of misery were endured before I was discharged.
You do not want to go through such an experience. It doesn't help, either that I now must take five different medications daily at a cost of about $450 per month for the rest of my life.
While going between hospitals, I spoke to the attendants about the falling average age of heart attack victims. They confirmed that large numbers of people in their thirties and even some in their twenties are falling victim to coronary disease and heart attacks. Obesity is one contributing factor. Today's sedentary lifestyles that keep people glued to TV and or a PC instead of getting out and exercising is another.
Heed my advice. You don't need to make a wholesale change today. Take small steps. Reduce your fat intake. Take more frequent walks. Eat more fruit and veggies. If you think it'll put a crimp in your lifestyle, you might want to consider that a heart attack will put a much bigger crimp in it...if you're lucky.
I just realized that I left out one of the best parts of my ordeal. The morning I was to check out, for no apparent reason, my nose started bleeding. I may have blown it--not sure, but there certainly was no picking involved. Anyway, I used a few kleenex, tried the old plug up the nose trick, but to no avail. I finally call the nurse and she gives me more and more kleenex, and then a cloth with cold water, advised me to tilt my head back, etc. Still, it won't stop. They wheel me down to emerg, a doctor comes in and proceeds to shove some kind of thick wadding so deep inside my nasal cavity that it feels like it's half way down my throat. I've never been so uncomfortable in my life. I couldn't breath well, speak well, swallow well--it almost felt like I was choking. I didn't even bother to tell you how it hurt when he unexpectedly shoved it in in one fell swoop. I imagine it to be comparable to having a large penis shoved all at once into a virgin. Unfortunately, for me, I didn't get an orgasm out of the deal. Hell, I didn't get dinner or a movie.
I ask how long I must endure this misery and he thinks for a second and then says "Come back Monday". It was Friday. That was the longest long weekend I ever spent. It was driving me crazy. Imagine having a partial birth and then going home for three days before coming back to deliver the thing stuck between your legs.
Monday finally comes and I'm in the hospital waiting to have the demon exorcised from my face. How was I to know that the evil lodged in my head would hurt five times more exiting than it did entering? Yowsa! I guess the batting had secured itself in there to the blood and the walls of my nasal cavity and as the wicked snake was slowly pulled out, it did not want to let go. The relief I felt when it was finally out was similar to that spent feeling after a rigorous lovemaking session. But again, without the pleasure.
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