This Time for Sure-My First Bypass Operation

January 31, 1980. I'm back in the hospital and actually starting to get used to the hospital routine. My wife, though anxious, had taken on an air of stoicism, as had I. We had talked a lot about what to do if I died during the operation during the month's delay. It was good therapy for both of us.

My parents had come down from the northern part of the state again. My dad still was in shock that one of his sons could be so sick with a heart condition. As with most people, young people with heart conditions didn't seem as prevalent.

Of course, there wasn't as much media or technology to educate people. There were just as many young people dying of heart attacks (not necessarily for the same reason as mine). It just wasn't communicated as widely as it is today.

They woke me early on February 1 to start to prep me. I kissed my wife and around 7:00 a.m. they wheeled me down to the operating room. I was already under mild sedation. What I remember distinctly was how cold it was in the immaculately sterilized "OR". The other remember was the great number of people gathered about the room.

My wife and I had already discussed what was going to happen with the anesthetist, my cardiologist and the two surgeons who would operate. I was quickly wired up to all of the equipment that would give the surgeons feedback on how I was doing. I was asked one last time how I was doing, and then the anesthetist put the face mask over me and I drifted into a very pleasant sleep.

I awoke approximately 6-7 hours later. The operation had been 4 hours long, without complications. I was in the intensive care unit ("ICU"). My first feeling was that I was choking from the tracheal tube that was inserted in my mouth. It set off a gag reflex and a nurse helped me work with it so that it would stop it from continuing.

The first person (other than the nurse) I remembered seeing was my father. It must have been his turn to visit, since the ICU only allowed one person at a time to visit for 15 minutes at a time. I was still in a daze but I knew he was there. I couldn't move my head but I could see him out of the corner of my eye. I gave him a thumbs up and he later told me that he knew I was going to be okay when he saw that.

Then with more morphine to ease the pain I went back to sleep. I had made it through. As I fell asleep, I felt exhilarated, and it wasn't due to the effects of the morphine.

I knew I still had my wife and family to enjoy and that it wouldn't be long before I saw my little angel girl daughter again. She still had a daddy. That was the most important thing to me. Throughout the other medical ordeals I have encountered, it was always my family, especially my wife, that made any pain worthwhile.

Next time: Recovery and Renewal.