I haven’t posted in a while and I’d like to explain why. As Anne wrote in her last post, I had a health incident in January. Though it’s hard for a guy like me to admit, I fell apart. So, that is where I have been for a couple of months; wrapped up in myself with more than a tinge of self-pity. I tried to act normal, brave, and stoic around my friends as if everything was the same but was whimpering inside as I came to grips with my new reality.

THE FACTS

Last summer when I rode my bike somewhat vigorously, I noticed some chest pain but when I backed off on the effort, the pain receded. In January when riding in Los Angeles with Alan and Peter, two of my brothers-in-law, the chest pain came again but this time didn’t recede. This was a new phenomenon. I called my Minneapolis doctor and he suggested a visit to the emergency room. Next stop; UCLA Santa Monica Hospital (where I received excellent care by the way) to be checked out. They explained that I was suffering from the classic signs of angina and we needed more tests. Evidently, angina is caused by an artery that supplies blood to the heart muscle becoming partially blocked. Under normal conditions you don’t even realize it. The heart muscle has plenty of oxygen. When you physically exert yourself the heart muscle must work harder to supply blood to the rest of your body. When the heart ups its effort, it also needs more blood and oxygen. It is then that a restriction in blood flow is felt. There is just not enough oxygen getting to the heat muscle and chest pain results.

The most painful part was removing all those electrical patches.

Since Anne and I were heading back to Kenya, we wanted to make sure that whatever test I got gave us conclusive results. Of the tests available, only two promised to give nearly 100% accurate results, a CT Angiogram and a heart catheterization. In a CT Angiogram you are placed in a CT scanner and then a radioactive die is injected into your arteries. They then watch the blood flows to spot any restrictions. For a heart catheterization the doctors put a catheter into an artery and thread it up to your heart and actually look for a blockage. The advantage of this procedure is that if they spot a problem they can fix it right away.

I opted for the catheterization. They found two blockages estimated at 80%, inserted two arterial stents, kept me overnight and sent me home. The whole process from arriving at the emergency room to walking out with two shiny new stents took about 36 hours. Except for the first week, I was given no restrictions on physical activity at all.

THE FEELINGS

My self-identity has always included a large physical component. I was a varsity college wrestler and later a national caliber Judo player. I rode my bicycle trans-continental and rode a hill stage of the Tour de France (in the E’tape du Tour). I could hike, bike, swim, climb, and ski with people 20 years my junior. If you needed it carried, lifted, opened, or built I was your man. Now, I was just another old guy taking four or five pills every morning wondering when the “big one” would hit.

I knew that the purpose of the stent was to open the artery so that I could, in fact, do the things that I want to do. Since the procedure, I have taken several hard bike rides and hiked 12 miles up and down the hills of Catalina Island (which left my muscles sore but had no noticeable heart symptoms). Intellectually, I knew that nothing had changed. But in my heart, in my guts, I had to come to grips with my mortality. My new reality is taking my pill case everywhere I go (yes, that really bothers me). I worry about the chance of restenosis (the stent re-blocking). I am constantly fearful yet am determined to continue to challenge myself and try new experiences.

As time passes, I am becoming more comfortable with the thought that nothing is really new for me. We are all going to go sometime. That was as true last December, pre-stent, as it is today. I realized, while lying in the hospital getting comfort from Anne and perhaps shedding a self-serving tear or two that I desperately want to see my grand babies grow up. I am going to.

Hard is fun…usually. The last two months have been hard and not much fun at all but things are looking up.

After the stent, a trip to Disneyland.