PairoDocs
Well-known member
Dear All,
I'm sorry that I attached my post to an old post instead of opening a new thread. I'm really quite computer-savvy, but not forum-savvy, I guess. Someone suggested that I post in the post-surgery forum, but my husband haunts there and I usually review the posts anyway. We BOTH went to the cardiologist today, and the cardiologist felt that he was doing a lot better. His pulse pressures and overall blood pressure was improved, and he has managed to lose a little bit more weight even off the diuretic. He is still dealing with a heart rate in the low 100's, but cardiologist expects this to continue to improve. I had given him my previous appointment because he was edematous and occasionally short of breath. Since he has had some problems with a persistent pericardial effusion (we have been reassured that there is no tamponade, but it is affecting his ejection fraction some, down from 65% to 55%), we were concerned about a possible increase in the effusion. No real change, but his echo sure did look funky. I don't (and didn't) have much opportunity to see echocardiograms from post-OHS patients. The effusion causes collapse of the right ventricle, "but only during systole", which apparently doesn't affect heart function very much, and his septum has a "post-OHS wiggle", which , we are told, is almost always present post-OHS.
He did develop the flu a day or so later, so hard to separate the symptoms of flu from heart stuff. He has no restrictions now, and is encouraged to increase his cardiovascular fitness and activity.
On the other hand, I am having a few problems of my own. I had been diagnosed with MVR about 4 years ago, still considered mild, but slightly worse than my husband's (and he's the one who had to have the surgery) along with mild to moderate pulmonary hypertension and minimal tricuspid regurgitation. I have lost a great deal of weight, and expected improvement, but now the murmur is louder and I'm starting to have increasing problem with edema and fatigue. The cardiologist put me on a diuretic and I get my echo on Monday. I hope it's "just a hormonal thing" and not heart-related. I might better equipped emotionally to handle even OHS, but I worry that my husband would come unglued. He has Asperger's Syndrome, which is at the high-functioning end of the autistic (ASD) spectrum, and doesn't handle change very well. The suddenness of his OHS was the thing that caused the most problems. I even had them start his antidepressants and other meds prior to his extubation at the hospital, suspecting (correctly)that there would be issues otherwise.
Currently, my husband is already in counseling, and our church family is very supportive. During this crisis, he ended up on some 108 prayer chains; I'm convinced that faith and prayer saved his life. The pastoral services at St. Luke's both here and in Boise are very good. One of the few things that my husband does remember is a woman pastor praying with us just prior to his surgery; he was intubated but they let him wake up just enough to pray.
He does not remember most of what happened the day of surgery and the following day. Oddly enough, he remembers being bathed by 2 cute nurses(!) the first night. They had to keep him pretty well snowed since the whole intubation thing has been a lifetime phobia for him. He had to remain intubated for an extra day due to pulmonary congestion, and it was very hard. His neighbor in the ICU, age 70, who had undergone mitral valve replacement and coronary artery bypass grafting only needed to stay intubated for about 5 hours postop. He had some rather colorful language at the time of his extubation! My husband's nurse tried to lighten my husband's anesthesia, but he became agitated. He also tried to kiss me, tubes and all, and I could see that he was still there after all. She had to put him back under, but I accepted the bone that she threw me, and prayed for patience.
I got to stay with him almost the whole time, including the nights in the ICU. There are no spare beds, of course, but I could sit in the chair, hold his hand, and stroke his leg. I got to see the whole ICU routine, watched them brush his teeth, bathe him, shave him, wash his hair and comb it, change the linens, check cardiac outputs, blood sugars, etc. As a physician, I guess I never thought much about all that stuff and the challenges of doing it on an intubated patient. It sure was enlightening. The nurses even allowed me to have a cup of coffee in his room, and I was very careful. As you can imagine, this was an exception, but she wanted me to be clear-headed and needed me to be there to support my husband during the weaning process from the ventilator. They listened to all my suggestions, and appreciated my input and insight. I have always tried to listen to my patients, but this reinforced that for me. I felt that the atmosphere was one of healing, and not the bustling, condescending attitude sometimes found in big university hospitals.
2007 was a bad year for us. My mother was very ill, and spent almost 9 months hospitalized or in rehab. About 30 days of that was in the ICU, including time intubated. She is actually too sick to survive OHS including a valve replacement. I flew home 3 times, once after each MI. She is home now! My father-in-law had to be life-flighted to Boise after a ruptured aneurysm in his leg. And then there was my husband. My husband jokes that 2007 was the year that almost everyone went to heaven. Thank God it's 2008!
I know that we will both recover from all this, given time. I recognize it for a post-traumatic stress phenomenon, but it sure helps to have a support group. Sorry this is so long, but nervousness can make me chatty.
Breathing a sigh of relief in Idaho,
Laura
I'm sorry that I attached my post to an old post instead of opening a new thread. I'm really quite computer-savvy, but not forum-savvy, I guess. Someone suggested that I post in the post-surgery forum, but my husband haunts there and I usually review the posts anyway. We BOTH went to the cardiologist today, and the cardiologist felt that he was doing a lot better. His pulse pressures and overall blood pressure was improved, and he has managed to lose a little bit more weight even off the diuretic. He is still dealing with a heart rate in the low 100's, but cardiologist expects this to continue to improve. I had given him my previous appointment because he was edematous and occasionally short of breath. Since he has had some problems with a persistent pericardial effusion (we have been reassured that there is no tamponade, but it is affecting his ejection fraction some, down from 65% to 55%), we were concerned about a possible increase in the effusion. No real change, but his echo sure did look funky. I don't (and didn't) have much opportunity to see echocardiograms from post-OHS patients. The effusion causes collapse of the right ventricle, "but only during systole", which apparently doesn't affect heart function very much, and his septum has a "post-OHS wiggle", which , we are told, is almost always present post-OHS.
He did develop the flu a day or so later, so hard to separate the symptoms of flu from heart stuff. He has no restrictions now, and is encouraged to increase his cardiovascular fitness and activity.
On the other hand, I am having a few problems of my own. I had been diagnosed with MVR about 4 years ago, still considered mild, but slightly worse than my husband's (and he's the one who had to have the surgery) along with mild to moderate pulmonary hypertension and minimal tricuspid regurgitation. I have lost a great deal of weight, and expected improvement, but now the murmur is louder and I'm starting to have increasing problem with edema and fatigue. The cardiologist put me on a diuretic and I get my echo on Monday. I hope it's "just a hormonal thing" and not heart-related. I might better equipped emotionally to handle even OHS, but I worry that my husband would come unglued. He has Asperger's Syndrome, which is at the high-functioning end of the autistic (ASD) spectrum, and doesn't handle change very well. The suddenness of his OHS was the thing that caused the most problems. I even had them start his antidepressants and other meds prior to his extubation at the hospital, suspecting (correctly)that there would be issues otherwise.
Currently, my husband is already in counseling, and our church family is very supportive. During this crisis, he ended up on some 108 prayer chains; I'm convinced that faith and prayer saved his life. The pastoral services at St. Luke's both here and in Boise are very good. One of the few things that my husband does remember is a woman pastor praying with us just prior to his surgery; he was intubated but they let him wake up just enough to pray.
He does not remember most of what happened the day of surgery and the following day. Oddly enough, he remembers being bathed by 2 cute nurses(!) the first night. They had to keep him pretty well snowed since the whole intubation thing has been a lifetime phobia for him. He had to remain intubated for an extra day due to pulmonary congestion, and it was very hard. His neighbor in the ICU, age 70, who had undergone mitral valve replacement and coronary artery bypass grafting only needed to stay intubated for about 5 hours postop. He had some rather colorful language at the time of his extubation! My husband's nurse tried to lighten my husband's anesthesia, but he became agitated. He also tried to kiss me, tubes and all, and I could see that he was still there after all. She had to put him back under, but I accepted the bone that she threw me, and prayed for patience.
I got to stay with him almost the whole time, including the nights in the ICU. There are no spare beds, of course, but I could sit in the chair, hold his hand, and stroke his leg. I got to see the whole ICU routine, watched them brush his teeth, bathe him, shave him, wash his hair and comb it, change the linens, check cardiac outputs, blood sugars, etc. As a physician, I guess I never thought much about all that stuff and the challenges of doing it on an intubated patient. It sure was enlightening. The nurses even allowed me to have a cup of coffee in his room, and I was very careful. As you can imagine, this was an exception, but she wanted me to be clear-headed and needed me to be there to support my husband during the weaning process from the ventilator. They listened to all my suggestions, and appreciated my input and insight. I have always tried to listen to my patients, but this reinforced that for me. I felt that the atmosphere was one of healing, and not the bustling, condescending attitude sometimes found in big university hospitals.
2007 was a bad year for us. My mother was very ill, and spent almost 9 months hospitalized or in rehab. About 30 days of that was in the ICU, including time intubated. She is actually too sick to survive OHS including a valve replacement. I flew home 3 times, once after each MI. She is home now! My father-in-law had to be life-flighted to Boise after a ruptured aneurysm in his leg. And then there was my husband. My husband jokes that 2007 was the year that almost everyone went to heaven. Thank God it's 2008!
I know that we will both recover from all this, given time. I recognize it for a post-traumatic stress phenomenon, but it sure helps to have a support group. Sorry this is so long, but nervousness can make me chatty.
Breathing a sigh of relief in Idaho,
Laura
)
