We went to Boston this weekend for scheduled follow-ups with Dr. Ho. As usual, the visit included two echocardiograms, one complete resting and one after exercise. The gradient (a proximal measure of obstruction) is greatly reduced from where it was preoperatively, and almost absent at rest. This is welcome news, and not terribly surprising.
I'm coming down off the beta blockers. Dr. Ho thinks I'll soon be able to eliminate them completely. I'm not as certain - and, in fact, there are effects on anxiety and stage fright that I enjoy - but we'll see.
My EKG now shows (and will show, permanently) a left bundle branch block, which is quite common after a myectomy. This means that the electrical pathway through the left side of the heart is disrupted. It's not a cause for concern and doesn't require treatment, but is important to be aware of in case I ever develop coronary artery disease, as an EKG to evaluate a heart attack will be inconclusive. Dr. Ho put it as succinctly as possible after looking at my EKG: "Your left bundle went into the pathology bucket in the OR."
Still waiting for that morning when I wake up without chest soreness, the morning I'll know I can swing a golf club freely. It could reach 70 degrees this weekend, but I'll be limited to chipping and putting until it doesn't hurt to rotate my torso. Sigh.
Take care,
Michael
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Friday, March 5, 2010
With apologies to James Brown
"I feel good."
(Did you know that I would?)
I'm asked about 217 times a day how I'm doing, and not in the usual small-talk sense. (It's OK, I appreciate that people are concerned and interested.) So I usually try to give a truthful answer.
Yesterday, in a meeting with my boss, I answered "I feel good." It was the quick, reflexive, unplanned, and therefore honest answer. And I took myself by surprise, because I cannot actually remember the last time I felt "good." I've answered "OK," "fair-to-middlin,", and "hanging in there," but not "good." Not in a couple of years, probably.
And then -- of course -- I hit the wall shortly afterward. Poetic justice. I felt good again this morning but tired this afternoon. My stamina is still rebuilding, but the upside is better than it has been, which is great.
We head to Boston a week from today for a follow-up appointment with Dr. Ho, and resting and stress echocardiograms. These will give a better picture (literally) of the surgical results, the extent of any residual obstruction. I expect some additional adjustments to medication as well. The beta-blocker dose has already been halved, and though I likely won't ever be off it completely, lower is better from a tolerability perspective.
TGIF - I need to catch up on rest, the workweek has definitely caught up with me.
Take care,
Michael
(Did you know that I would?)
I'm asked about 217 times a day how I'm doing, and not in the usual small-talk sense. (It's OK, I appreciate that people are concerned and interested.) So I usually try to give a truthful answer.
Yesterday, in a meeting with my boss, I answered "I feel good." It was the quick, reflexive, unplanned, and therefore honest answer. And I took myself by surprise, because I cannot actually remember the last time I felt "good." I've answered "OK," "fair-to-middlin,", and "hanging in there," but not "good." Not in a couple of years, probably.
And then -- of course -- I hit the wall shortly afterward. Poetic justice. I felt good again this morning but tired this afternoon. My stamina is still rebuilding, but the upside is better than it has been, which is great.
We head to Boston a week from today for a follow-up appointment with Dr. Ho, and resting and stress echocardiograms. These will give a better picture (literally) of the surgical results, the extent of any residual obstruction. I expect some additional adjustments to medication as well. The beta-blocker dose has already been halved, and though I likely won't ever be off it completely, lower is better from a tolerability perspective.
TGIF - I need to catch up on rest, the workweek has definitely caught up with me.
Take care,
Michael
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