Who knew aspirin could go there? MOMMA!

Open heart surgery is not something to take lightly. I can’t thank the Northwestern Medical staff enough. A special shout out to the nursing staff - they were simply amazing. This was not an emergency. It was a planned procedure (that’s what they call it - a procedure) to repair my mitral heart valve. All good now. As I look back to one week ago, there were some scary moments, more so for my family. All I could do was do what I was told. My family had to wait for the report from the surgeon. Then they had to look at me in ICU. “Geez, you look great. You’d never know you had surgery.” Are you kidding me? The surgical gown alone should give it away. I sent a picture of three IV’s, three drain tubes, pacemaker wires, remote transmitter and various electrodes attached to my chest and my buddy responds with “You look great. Can you now provide free Wi-Fi, Netflix and Pandora?” 

Still, it’s very intimidating to feel like you’re trapped in the Matrix. I wish the choice was as easy as the “red pill or blue pill” and that pills were the only medicine involved. When it was time for my first Heparin shot (prevents blood clots) I pulled up my gown sleeve only to hear, “No we administer these in the stomach.” Say what?! Even at 57 years of age, the word “Momma” still gets uttered. 

The funniest statement made by the medical staff is “Now get some rest.” Sure. Easy-Peasy. I’ll be asleep in no time with all the wires strapped to my chest, remote transmitter in my gown pocked and the IV cocktails of diuretics, antibiotics and painkillers coursing through my veins.. Then there’s the hourly vitals check, blood work, chest X-ray, etc. When I did fall asleep, I knew a finger prick was right around the corner. It was. 

Speaking of finger prick, a sponge bath is not at all what’s it cracked up to be. There is no soft lighting or mood music playing. And when you hear the words, “Let me clean around your catheter,” any fantasy one might have is crushed immediately. Speaking of crushed, that’s the feeling of having the catheter removed. The nurse said, “It may burn a bit at first when you pee.” Really? Ya think?!  “MOMMA!”  

Hours after surgery, I was feeling a little nauseous, not an uncommon reaction. Meanwhile, they needed to give me an aspirin. They didn’t want to run the risk of me swallowing it then throwing it up causing chest pain, etc. So they asked my family to leave the room and for to me lean on my side. “Why?” I asked. “Because we need to give you an aspirin.” I’m a smart guy. I knew what was coming. The laughter from my family confirmed it. “MOMMA!”