J
JCDavis81
Hi all,
One year ago today (to the minute) I was on the operating table at Duke University Hospital with my heart in the very able hands of Jim Jaggers. Today I am certainly more healthy and happier than I was then. I started running in January on account of my new found stamina, I've lost 30 pounds, my resting heart rate is down from 85 pre surgery to 65 bpm, and the size of my ventricle is back within a normal range. I realize how lucky I've been -- great surgeon, no real side-effects, no steps back -- thankfully, the other shoe that I was always waiting for to drop, never did.
The clicking in my chest means I think about my valve(s) almost everyday, but I haven't thought much about the actual surgery until this week. I remember being scared for months leading up to the big day...I remember waking up in the ICU, realizing I was okay, but knowing that the ticking I heard meant Jaggers had not been able to save my valve...I remember how supportive my friends and family were...I remember thinking it wasn't as bad as I had imagined...and I remember how wonderful and supportive this community was for me.
I wish I had some fabulous words of wisdom for those of you on the cusp of receiving a new valve about what my surgery taught me, but I'm afraid I have nothing new to add. The anxiety IS the worst part and if I had the whole thing to do over again, the only thing I would change would be not waiting as long as I did to have the surgery. As all of the older valvers have explained over and over again, coumadin isn't the boogeyman that most make it out to be and, don't worry, you won't forget to take it. Invest in a sound machine and make sure to tell little kids that you tick because you swallowed a watch on a dare. You may never be able to be a CIA agent or play marco polo again, but I promise you'll feel better (physically and emotionally) and you'll always have a great story to tell at cocktail parties.
Valve disease is the tie that binds us all on this site and this community is a very special one. I don't visit as much as I used to, but I am, and always will be, thankful for the love and support that I received from all of you. Those who have not gone through what we have gone through will never understand what it's like, so it's a wonderful gift for us to have one another.
All the best and happy holidays,
Joe
One year ago today (to the minute) I was on the operating table at Duke University Hospital with my heart in the very able hands of Jim Jaggers. Today I am certainly more healthy and happier than I was then. I started running in January on account of my new found stamina, I've lost 30 pounds, my resting heart rate is down from 85 pre surgery to 65 bpm, and the size of my ventricle is back within a normal range. I realize how lucky I've been -- great surgeon, no real side-effects, no steps back -- thankfully, the other shoe that I was always waiting for to drop, never did.
The clicking in my chest means I think about my valve(s) almost everyday, but I haven't thought much about the actual surgery until this week. I remember being scared for months leading up to the big day...I remember waking up in the ICU, realizing I was okay, but knowing that the ticking I heard meant Jaggers had not been able to save my valve...I remember how supportive my friends and family were...I remember thinking it wasn't as bad as I had imagined...and I remember how wonderful and supportive this community was for me.
I wish I had some fabulous words of wisdom for those of you on the cusp of receiving a new valve about what my surgery taught me, but I'm afraid I have nothing new to add. The anxiety IS the worst part and if I had the whole thing to do over again, the only thing I would change would be not waiting as long as I did to have the surgery. As all of the older valvers have explained over and over again, coumadin isn't the boogeyman that most make it out to be and, don't worry, you won't forget to take it. Invest in a sound machine and make sure to tell little kids that you tick because you swallowed a watch on a dare. You may never be able to be a CIA agent or play marco polo again, but I promise you'll feel better (physically and emotionally) and you'll always have a great story to tell at cocktail parties.
Valve disease is the tie that binds us all on this site and this community is a very special one. I don't visit as much as I used to, but I am, and always will be, thankful for the love and support that I received from all of you. Those who have not gone through what we have gone through will never understand what it's like, so it's a wonderful gift for us to have one another.
All the best and happy holidays,
Joe
Happy Holidays!
