Last summer I learned I had to have open heart surgery to repair a tear in my heart. The funny thing is, I didn't know anything was wrong with my heart. I never had any pains or obvious symptoms. The way I found out was because I moved into a new condo and when I was unpacking my cups and mugs I dropped a mug on my foot and when it shattered a piece of glass stabbed the top of my foot. It was such a bloody mess, you would have thought I was going to need stitches or something awful. So, I went to urgent care (of course!) and when they brought me back to evaluate my situation they checked my heartbeat. The nurse thought it sounded off and had the doctor double check. He thought there was some irregularity as well. So, they had me go through a few x-rays and do an EKG.
When they actually got to treating my foot, they cleaned it up and all that blood was from the tiniest little cut on my foot. The doctor pretty much put a band-aid on it and acted like he was "kissing the boo-boo". So embarrassing...but so lucky it happened as it turns out...
A week or so after that my doctor called me and said he had received some of my test results and x-rays from the urgent care doctor and he needed to talk to me right away. WHAT?! How can a doctor leave a voicemail like that? I was freaking out! When I finally got in contact with him he told me that the tests and film suggested I had a tear in my heart that was not currently life threatening, but needed to be treated. I guess I was relieved and nervous at the same time. I had been through a similar surgery 12 years ago and it was touch and go.
This all stemmed from an attack when I was 20. I was jogging home one night and I went through my usual path, which just happened to be in a dark and unsecured area on the backside of campus. I am smart, but my common sense didn't kick in back then. I was attacked as I was jogging past the large campus parking lot that was mostly empty. I was stabbed 27 times and surely should have died, but in some miracle I survived. At one point in the ambulance on the way to the hospital, I was told that they called in that I was "DOA". That's how bad it was. The doctors and surgeons that worked on me back then were amazing. They stopped at nothing to save my life. They had to work very hard on my heart though, it was badly damaged.
The recent tear happened because of my change in activity and I stressed my heart more than it had ever been, so the original "repair" job didn't hold up. There was some concern my heart was too damaged or scarred from the previous surgery to hold up to another one.
I had to have the surgery in Wisconsin, so I flew off on Tuesday night, still not sure what was going to happen. There was some possibility it could be minimally invasive surgery, but I wouldn't know that until my pre-op evaluation with the surgeon. Oh, and the surgeon...was the same one that saved me 12 years ago!
When it was time for my surgery I happily learned that they were going to be able to do minimally invasive and that meant they did not have to crack my chest and shorter recovery time! I was so happy about that! Plus they determined my heart was actually in very good shape! Yay across the board!
The surgery went very well and I was feeling lively already the day after. My sister and husband were there to support me prior to going off to enjoy their vacay in Chicago. I asked my sister to bring me a cupcake, because that's all I seemed to want as soon as I came to! I'm convinced the surgeon sewed up some cupcake in my heart! (kind of like the Seinfeld Jr. Mint episode.) So, my sister went out and found me my favorite cupcake...red velvet! Yum! The nurse had said I couldn't really have any sweets and there was a whole list of foods off limits, so my sister tried to smuggle in the cupcake. Unfortunately, the nurse caught her and took my cupcake! Tim asked for her to hold onto it and they would take it when they left. When they went to leave, Tim went to ask for it and it was gone! The nurse ate my cupcake!!
For the next two days attempts were made to smuggle me cupcakes, but that nurse was a cupcake Nazi! I've never craved anything so badly, it was miserable.
After I was released I went to stay with my friend Alicia until I was cleared to fly home to San Diego. She is a stickler for the rules, so I knew she wasn't going to get me a cupcake. However, I thought she might give in and give me some kind of a treat. I was right. She had made some cookies and said I could have just one! She left the cookie on a plate for me next to my bed and went off to work. I fell asleep shortly after, dreaming of eating that cookie. When I woke up, I found that her big fat 20 pound cat, Tinkerbell, ate my cookie!! Tinkerbell...how could you?! When Alicia got home, I told her how Tinkerbell ate my cookie, and I deserved another one. She said "no, how do I know if you ate the cookie? You snooze you lose!" Ugh, so mean!
I left Wisconsin having never received a cupcake or a cookie!! Damn you Wisconsin! Upon arriving in San Diego, all I could think of was getting a cupcake. I arrived home on a Wednesday and by Friday I managed to get out of the house and my friend Cecily finally made my cupcake fantasies come true! Thank you Heavenly Cupcake...it was so good!
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