After your surgery, what are some of the things that you found out that surprised you

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My most pleasant surprise - apart from actually waking up after the surgery - was finding out that the "asthma" I had had for 37 years simply disappeared after the surgery. 6 years on and there is not even an inhaler in the house!

Least pleasant was the lasting medication and appointments, the effect on my wife, the effect on our sex life (no 'mechanical' issues (!) just loss of libido) and a slight pre-occupation with my own mortality that I have never been able to shift.
 
I have "pump head" as well as a lot of others. The most disturbing is I can't think of words in mid sentence...

I also developed Cardiomyopothy 7 weeks after surgery from a virus "the docs think" they can't find any medical cause...I'm still short of breath...my scar is red, itchy, and sensitive, I've been sent to a dematolgist for steriod shots...still haven't got up the nerve to go...

I still have a itchy throat and cough...the exact same area as right after surgery...

Does it every get better???

Carol

6 years on and I have more holes in my short term memory than a Swiss cheese.

It's not that 'can't quite remember something I know I know' sort of problem - more a complete black out that makes things (such as chores and to do things) simply 'vanish' - only to reappear in a flash hours after the fact.

Very frustrating.
 
Although I had MANY of the same surprises already posted, my biggest surprise came just last week when I got the bill for my surgery! Thankfully, I only have to pay for $250 of it :)

Ha - I can imagine!

Fortunately we have taxpayer funded health care here in NZ so no such surprise - although I was told it would have cost around NZ$60,000 if I had had to pay.
 
There were a fair number of surprises.

The biggest by far was that I needed OHS at all.

First surprise: Thought I had pneumonia 12/9/07 and was sent home from ER with a diagnosis of pulmonary fibrosis (wrong!)

Second surprise: Was again at ER 12/10/07 and sat in waiting room breathing 50-60 times a minute for almost 3 hours because my oximeter reading showed 92% saturation.

Third surprise: Was admitted finally with "atypical pneumonia" with a 102° F fever. Again wrong (in part this time) diagnosis.

Fourth surprise: Was able to eat a 'hearty' blue taco meal (a patient favorite at St. Luke's Twin Falls MVRMC) while on 10 liters O2 with a Bi-PAP mask.

Then the final one before anyone figured out what was at the 'heart' of my troubles: I retained every single bit of fluid I drank or received by IV and gained 15 lbs. literally overnight.

An echocardiogram technician and I were the ones to figure out something bad had happened to my mitral valve-he actually showed me the screen with the blurred--lots of retained fluids already--image of my heart and I noticed how my mitral valve was flopping up way too high during systole (the doctors hadn't connected the dots yet). He agreed with my observation and got my wife (she's MD, but wasn't supposed to be the one consulted) and she concurred. She also was a mixture of very annoyed that the other doctors had missed this, and terrified because she knew what she was seeing.

Once they did get it....

The on-call cardiologist contacted the Idaho CDC because he was convinced that I had contracted a virulent heart-attacking disease of possible terrorist origin, and recommended that I be placed in isolation. He was furious that I had taken a high dose of antibiotics because of the diagnosis of pneumonia.

I didn't mind the arterial line put in my right wrist, and actually begged later to have it put back in when the blood sugar finger pricks became truly unbearable for me.

I didn't mind the Swan Ganz catheter being placed in my neck--didn't hurt and I liked hearing about what each probe and such did.

My IV needle in my right arm that was put in during my second admission to the ER stayed patent (as in working and open) for the entire duration of the OHS and recovery, only to be removed when I was released to go home.

Another surprise: On diuretics one can lose a lot of weight very quickly. I lost 25lbs. of water weight in just over six hours.

Also surprised I was actually too sick and unstable for a life-flight to Boise St. Luke's until I got the same water weight off.

The two nurses (one of whom became afterward a very close family friend) who put in my Foley catheter did it wrong, and I leaked urine all around it and felt really uncomfortable in the prostate area. After I couldn't get anyone to help me I actually pushed it in the rest of the way myself until it 'felt right' and then blessed relief....

The retrograde amnesia for the Versed was welcome because I was told I struggled so hard that it took several people to intubate me successfully.

They had to drive me in an ambulance the 200 feet to the helipad from the ICU outside door.

I was briefly awakened (and still remember clearly) at Boise for prayer with the pastor and was surprised it was a woman (didn't know I had arrived in Boise and thought it was the male pastor from our local church).

Found out I was in such critical condition that they had no time to neatly prepare me for surgery; instead they just gave me a rough shave and made the first incision only 20 minutes after I arrived (about 5 minutes after the prayer--the Versed was turned on again so my memory was blank).

My wife was initially told I had a mechanical valve (On-X I think) put in, when really my mitral valve prolapse had provided enough tissue to compensate for removal of my torn central scallop of my leaflet, and thus a good repair instead.

My heart, upon its first 'taste' of blood, when the clamps were loosened, began to beat again spontaneously; it was raring to go after its 63 minute rest.

She saw me just post-op, and saw readings on me, and from her ER experience, saw stuff that nearly made her faint as everyone else she had seen with the same readings had been dead within less than ten minutes--then told by the Intensivist that I had improved significantly already.

I questioned my "sickest patient in the CICU" status to the Intensivist and he matter of fact told me that it had been indeed true.

Because of the pulmonary edema, complicated by pneumonia, the doctors expected me to be intubated for at least three weeks and hospitalized for two months.

Because of God being deluged by 110 prayer chains, I was extubated after 1 1/2 days and released eight days after surgery to go home--surprised the hospital staff, but not me as much because I know God loves me.

Because Laura said I had great PEEP ability (forceful coughing, etc.) I could deal with my own lung clearing. Lots of blood clots (my 'blood sausage' as it were) later, I was breathing easy.

I passed my "chitty-chat" test without knowing it while on my first walk around the CICU--they wanted to see if I could talk and walk at the same time. I did.

While Versed was supposed to suppress all my memories, I distinctly recall being flipped over onto warm wet towels and rubbed and cleaned by some nurses, but my visual memory was of vague blurred figures in a gray, foggy shroud.

Laura told me that I had written on notepaper several times over the previous day, "Please extubate me." Of course no recall.

When Laura told me, within minutes of the Versed being withdrawn, that I had a "zipper" in my chest, my first thought was that I had some sort of strange surgical zipper put in my chest and sternum because of some precarious condition that might require getting back inside me in a huge hurry. I really had been glued and stainless steel sutured back together.

I had really fun and creative dreams. The ones I recalled and wrote down I have used as starts for several novels I'm working on.

My first requests for moisture were met by some funny-looking barely damp bluish sponge-like things on the ends of sticks; it was almost a day before I got my first ice chips. Then I got a whole cup of chips and savored each one slowly.

I had three chest tubes. I was expecting pain when they were pulled out, but instead I felt this extremely weird "slithery" feeling as they were withdrawn--unpleasant, but not really painful.

The pacing wires were another story: When the first one was pulled, the pain was severe and I felt as if someone had pulled the ripcord on a parachute being yanked out through the same hole. Then the the second wire was like the reserve chute being dragged after it. I felt something else being dragged out that time, and saw a glistening piece of dark purplish red 'meat' on the end of that wire. I asked if it was a bit of my heart and the nurse, matter of factly said that it was.

When I looked in a mirror for the first time post-surgery I was shocked at how deep my eyes had sunken in and how badly my gums had receded; both returned to normal within about a month.

I enjoyed my first shower and really enjoyed being able to blow-dry my hair (it looked like dirty matted dog fur until that point).

Even more shocked to find out I had a 15% chance of outright dying after the successful procedure, and 50% chance of disabling brain damage. Turns out the figures were really 50% for death and 90% for varying types of permanent disability because of the combination of pneumonia and pulmonary edema damage to my lungs, but Dr. Huerd didn't want to scare me at the time.

I was surprised at how rapid my pulse remained despite heavy doses of Toprol (about 90-100 bpm), and eventually quit Toprol and metoporol because I only experienced a bunch of the side-effects and had no therapeutic response.

The bed had massage units built into it that tipped me at random moments in all sorts of directions, making sleep difficult.

I liked the sleeves they put over my legs that massaged them; this felt a lot better than the bed did.

This was a surprise for the physical therapist: I was not supposed to be released until I could climb up and down a flight of stairs. I went a full floor up and a full floor down on my first attempt on day 6 post surgery, and showed him that I could lower myself to the floor and get off the floor without assistance and without use of my arms very easily. His only task was to teach me how to get into and out of bed without hurting myself.

My cough pillow was a teddy bear named "Sir Cough-a-Lot" and I used it a lot at first.

I found a method involving putting my fingers on certain places just inside my nostrils that enabled me to avoid sneezing for two months post-surgery.

My scar, which for the first month had seemed to be healing nice and small, eventually bulged out and starting itching a lot. Turns out I am allergic to the internal sutures used beneath the glued skin.

I lost much of my accommodation, and had to start wearing reading glasses for the first time post-surgery.

I have some aphasia that comes and goes, plus have slightly diminished problem-solving skills.

The scotomata I got post surgery was in two forms. One was severe visual field defects with large areas where I could only see the blue and purple end of the spectrum. My eyes ached a bit when I had those kinds, but they were rare and quickly went away. The other was more fun: cool-looking moving Moire patterns, sometimes rainbow colored, other times black and white. These would move, and amazingly I saw these kinds appear in some of the "cool dreams" I had during early recovery.

The battle with depression has yet to be won. It's common post-surgery, and I've been trying various therapies for years with only partial success.

My posture improved due to my efforts to align my back by controlled slams against door frames, and hanging backward over the end of my bed in the weeks immediately following coming home from the OHS. The change appears permanent, as I was unable to lay flat without pain on the floor before surgery, and now I can. Because of this I may even be spared the condition that rendered both my father and grandfather unable to stand fully erect because of permanently stooped shoulders (my father is still alive at 79).

Balance is much better so I have been able to skate fast for the first time in my life and was able to take up Tae Kwon Do two years ago. Now I am only two belts away from black belt (advanced 8 belts so far).

Finally, I find that when I first exert myself I get very short of breath for a few minutes, then I catch up and am able to exert myself much more intensely. It's almost as if my heart doesn't realize I need more blood flow for a few minutes, then gets the idea.

I realize this is long, but I thought that at least some of what I went through could be informative and possibly helpful for other people who read this. Sorry for my long absence, but the depression I mentioned above has taken its toll on a lot of things.

Chris
 
There were a fair number of surprises.

The biggest by far was that I needed OHS at all.

First surprise: Thought I had pneumonia 12/9/07 and was sent home from ER with a diagnosis of pulmonary fibrosis (wrong!)

Second surprise: Was again at ER 12/10/07 and sat in waiting room breathing 50-60 times a minute for almost 3 hours because my oximeter reading showed 92% saturation.

Third surprise: Was admitted finally with "atypical pneumonia" with a 102° F fever. Again wrong (in part this time) diagnosis.

Fourth surprise: Was able to eat a 'hearty' blue taco meal (a patient favorite at St. Luke's Twin Falls MVRMC) while on 10 liters O2 with a Bi-PAP mask.

Then the final one before anyone figured out what was at the 'heart' of my troubles: I retained every single bit of fluid I drank or received by IV and gained 15 lbs. literally overnight.

An echocardiogram technician and I were the ones to figure out something bad had happened to my mitral valve-he actually showed me the screen with the blurred--lots of retained fluids already--image of my heart and I noticed how my mitral valve was flopping up way too high during systole (the doctors hadn't connected the dots yet). He agreed with my observation and got my wife (she's MD, but wasn't supposed to be the one consulted) and she concurred. She also was a mixture of very annoyed that the other doctors had missed this, and terrified because she knew what she was seeing.

Once they did get it....

The on-call cardiologist contacted the Idaho CDC because he was convinced that I had contracted a virulent heart-attacking disease of possible terrorist origin, and recommended that I be placed in isolation. He was furious that I had taken a high dose of antibiotics because of the diagnosis of pneumonia.

I didn't mind the arterial line put in my right wrist, and actually begged later to have it put back in when the blood sugar finger pricks became truly unbearable for me.

I didn't mind the Swan Ganz catheter being placed in my neck--didn't hurt and I liked hearing about what each probe and such did.

My IV needle in my right arm that was put in during my second admission to the ER stayed patent (as in working and open) for the entire duration of the OHS and recovery, only to be removed when I was released to go home.

Another surprise: On diuretics one can lose a lot of weight very quickly. I lost 25lbs. of water weight in just over six hours.

Also surprised I was actually too sick and unstable for a life-flight to Boise St. Luke's (12/11/07) until I got the same water weight off.

The two nurses (one of whom became afterward a very close family friend) who put in my Foley catheter did it wrong, and I leaked urine all around it and felt really uncomfortable in the prostate area. After I couldn't get anyone to help me I actually pushed it in the rest of the way myself until it 'felt right' and then blessed relief....

The retrograde amnesia for the Versed was welcome because I was told I struggled so hard that it took several people to intubate me successfully.

They had to drive me in an ambulance the 200 feet to the helipad from the ICU outside door late morning 12/12/07

I was briefly awakened (and still remember clearly) at Boise for prayer with the pastor and was surprised it was a woman (didn't know I had arrived in Boise and thought it was the male pastor from our local church).

Found out I was in such critical condition that they had no time to neatly prepare me for surgery; instead they just gave me a rough shave and made the first incision only 20 minutes after I arrived (about 5 minutes after the prayer--the Versed was turned on again so my memory was blank).

My wife was initially told I had a mechanical valve (On-X I think) put in, when really my mitral valve prolapse had provided enough tissue to compensate for removal of my torn central scallop of my leaflet, and thus a good repair instead.

My heart, upon its first 'taste' of blood, when the clamps were loosened, began to beat again spontaneously; it was raring to go after its 63 minute rest. http://www.valvereplacement.org/forums/images/smilies/thumbup.gif

She saw me just post-op, and saw readings on me, and from her ER experience, saw stuff that nearly made her faint as everyone else she had seen with the same readings had been dead within less than ten minutes--then told by the Intensivist that I had improved significantly already.

I questioned my "sickest patient in the CICU" status to the Intensivist and he matter of fact told me that it had been indeed true.

Because of the pulmonary edema, complicated by pneumonia, the doctors expected me to be intubated for at least three weeks and hospitalized for two months.

Because of God being deluged by 110 prayer chains, I was extubated after 1 1/2 days and released eight days after surgery to go home--surprised the hospital staff, but not me as much because I know God loves me. http://www.valvereplacement.org/forums/images/smilies/thumbup.gif

Because Laura said I had great PEEP ability (forceful coughing, etc.) I could deal with my own lung clearing. Lots of blood clots (my 'blood sausage' as it were) later, I was breathing easy. http://www.valvereplacement.org/forums/images/smilies/tongue.gif

I passed my "chitty-chat" test without knowing it while on my first walk around the CICU--they wanted to see if I could talk and walk at the same time. I did.

While Versed was supposed to suppress all my memories, I distinctly recall being flipped over onto warm wet towels and rubbed and cleaned by some nurses, but my visual memory was of vague blurred figures in a gray, foggy shroud.

Laura told me that I had written on notepaper several times over the previous day, "Please extubate me." Of course no recall.

When Laura told me, within minutes of the Versed being withdrawn, that I had a "zipper" in my chest, my first thought was that I had some sort of strange surgical zipper put in my chest and sternum because of some precarious condition that might require getting back inside me in a huge hurry. http://www.valvereplacement.org/forums/images/smilies/confused.gif I really had been glued and stainless steel sutured back together.

My bowels announced their waking up with a loud fart. I was a bit embarrassed, but the nurses told me it was good that I did that. Everything came out okay from that point onward.

I needed to hear running water after the Foley was removed so I could get my urinary sphincter to work again. Eventually it worked, and I never had to use the Foley again.

I had really fun and creative dreams. The ones I recalled and wrote down I have used as starts for several novels I'm working on. http://www.valvereplacement.org/forums/images/smilies/cool.gif

My first requests for moisture were met by some funny-looking barely damp bluish sponge-like things on the ends of sticks; it was almost a day before I got my first ice chips. Then I got a whole cup of chips and savored each one slowly.

I had three chest tubes. I was expecting pain when they were pulled out, but instead I felt this extremely weird "slithery" feeling as they were withdrawn--unpleasant, but not really painful.

The pacing wires were another story: When the first one was pulled, the pain was severe and I felt as if someone had pulled the ripcord on a parachute being yanked out through the same hole. Then the the second wire was like the reserve chute being dragged after it. I felt something else being dragged out that time, and saw a glistening piece of dark purplish red 'meat' on the end of that wire. I asked if it was a bit of my heart and the nurse, matter of factly said that it was.

When I looked in a mirror for the first time post-surgery I was shocked at how deep my eyes had sunken in and how badly my gums had receded; both returned to normal within about a month.

My worst part of the entire experience was the finger sticks for getting blood for the glucometer. They hurt. For the first four days I had blood taken from my arterial line, but after that the torture began. I burst into intense sweats that actually soaked my clothes and ran down my face to drip onto the floor, making small puddles--sort of like what Jesus may have been sweating like in the Garden of Gethsemane--whenever I was scheduled for a finger prick. This actually freaked out some of the nurses so they didn't come back. During the pricks my pulse rate rose alarmingly, and it was all I could do to keep myself from desperately kicking away the unfortunate soul who had to do the procedure, and run from the room. I even was willing to sign out against medical advise just to avoid them. Ironically, my fear made it worse because I would blanch and lose virtually all blood flow to my extremities; I actually went into shock with each stick, and frequently before it was attempted. Only Laura being there made it bearable, and even then she had to frequently hold and sooth me as I cried for several minutes or longer after most of them.

I enjoyed my first shower and really enjoyed being able to blow-dry my hair (it looked like dirty matted dog fur until that point).

I found that I had absolutely no desire to read anything at all at the hospital; normally I'm a voracious reader. I also found that I had no interest in watching television or playing any sort of board games. Conversation with Laura or medical staff filled my time.

My appetite returned very quickly and I really enjoyed the food, except at first I found it bland enough that for the first time in my life I actually enjoyed using hot sauce on stuff. By the last day I no longer wanted hot sauce, as I could taste the full flavor of the food without any more trouble.

Even more shocked to find out I had a 15% chance of outright dying after the successful procedure, and 50% chance of disabling brain damage. Turns out the figures were really 50% for death and 90% for varying types of permanent disability because of the combination of pneumonia and pulmonary edema damage to my lungs, but Dr. Huerd didn't want to scare me at the time.

I was surprised at how rapid my pulse remained despite heavy doses of Toprol (about 90-100 bpm), and eventually quit Toprol and metoporol because I only experienced a bunch of the side-effects and had no therapeutic response. Even now my heart rate seldom goes below 70 bpm despite my higher level of aerobic fitness.

The bed had massage units built into it that tipped me at random moments in all sorts of directions, making sleep difficult.

I liked the sleeves they put over my legs that massaged them; this felt a lot better than the bed did.

This was a surprise for the physical therapist: I was not supposed to be released until I could climb up and down a flight of stairs. I went a full floor up and a full floor down on my first attempt on day 6 post surgery, and showed him that I could lower myself to the floor and get off the floor without assistance and without use of my arms very easily. His only task was to teach me how to get into and out of bed without hurting myself.

My cough pillow was a teddy bear named "Sir Cough-a-Lot" and I used it a lot at first.

I found a method involving putting my fingers on certain places just inside my nostrils that enabled me to avoid sneezing for two months post-surgery.

My scar, which for the first month had seemed to be healing nice and small, eventually bulged out and starting itching a lot. Turns out I am allergic to the allegedly "dissolving" internal sutures used beneath the glued skin.

I lost much of my accommodation, and had to start wearing reading glasses for the first time post-surgery.

I have some aphasia that comes and goes, plus have slightly diminished problem-solving skills.

The scotomata I got post surgery was in two forms. One was severe visual field defects with large areas where I could only see the blue and purple end of the spectrum. My eyes ached a bit when I had those kinds, but they were rare and quickly went away. The other was more fun: cool-looking moving Moire patterns, sometimes rainbow colored, other times black and white. These would move, and amazingly I saw these kinds appear in some of the "cool dreams" I had during early recovery. Found out later that these were supposed to be migraine auras, but I never experienced a headache after any of these episodes.

The battle with depression has yet to be won. It's common post-surgery, and I've been trying various therapies for years with only partial success.

My posture improved due to my efforts to align my back by controlled slams against door frames, and hanging backward over the end of my bed in the weeks immediately following coming home from the OHS. The change appears permanent, as I was unable to lay flat without pain on the floor before surgery, and now I can. Because of this I may even be spared the condition that rendered both my father and grandfather unable to stand fully erect because of permanently stooped shoulders (my father is still alive at 79).

Balance and coordination is much better so I have been able to inline skate fast for the first time in my life and was able to take up Tae Kwon Do two years ago. Now I am only two belts away from black belt (advanced 8 belts so far).

Finally, I find that when I first exert myself I get very short of breath for a few minutes, then I catch up and am able to exert myself much more intensely. It's almost as if my heart doesn't realize I need more blood flow for a few minutes, then gets the idea.

I realize this is long, but I thought that at least some of what I went through could be informative and possibly helpful for other people who read this. Sorry for my long absence, but the depression I mentioned above has taken its toll on a lot of things.

Chris
 
This is a very neat thread. Let's see what sticks with me the most after a year and a half:

- How well the anesthesiologist picked up on my concerns in the prep area. The fellow that was going to do put in my arterial line started to talk to me about that procedure, but the attending anesthesiologist quickly stepped in and offered to send me to lala land.

- Not being fully aware when the breathing tube was removed. I remember Joe (one of the ICU nurses, whose voice I would hear later up in other rooms) yelling at me that I needed to breath on my own. He convinced me through my stupor, and the tube came out while I was still mostly out of it.

- Not having that much pain in my chest when I finally came around for good, but having this wrenching pain in my shoulder. I hadn't counted on that!

- Being able to breath much better in the ICU than I had for a month or so leading up to my operation. I didn't expect that things would improve so soon.

- My initial inability to LISTEN to the directions the nurse gave me for lying back down after attempting to stand up for the first time. I ended up flopping back down on the bed, and the pain from that ranked up at the top of that happy/unhappy face sheet. I also quickly learned to trust the nurses and do exactly what they said.

- Realizing just how many things were stuck into me during the operation. I avoided reading too many details before going in, since I was so squeamish about any medical procedures, but the hospital stay may have driven some of that out of me.

- The removal of my chest tubes and the way a certain scene from Aliens popped into my mind!

- The rapid loss of all sense of modesty, as you are quite often open for the world to see. That doesn't matter that much when everybody on the ward is in the same situation.

- How much I needed to pee when the catheter was finally removed due to the diuretics. I got a lot of practice at getting up out of the chair and walking to the bathroom for a few days.

- The biggest surprise was how quickly I got back to feeling normal once I came home. I was chomping at the bit to get back to work after two weeks, but had to wait to the four week point to get the clearance letter from the surgeon. It took a lot longer for me to get my full stamina back, but it was a big relief to get away from daytime TV!
 
So many things I remember

So many things I remember

:biggrin2::angel:Hello Everyone! My name is Mary and I am 42................wow how quickly everything comes back ( or maybe it hasn't left ). I have had 2 open heart surgeries both at the Cleveland Clinic.
I remember how much more I was afraid because I remembered the first one. The chest tubes coming out!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Oh my word----I don't know why you can't be asleep when they do that. How happy I was that they gave me Ice Chips after the ventelator. I can honestly still say it was the best thing I have ever tasted!!! How intelligent, kind, empathetic and loved I felt by the ICU staff. All the beeps.....................wow everyone was beeping and it scared me.
How my sense of hearing seemed to be better, but I was annoyed more quickly. I could hear everyone whispering when I got back to my room and I felt so closed in and had a panic attack. I remember my sister giving me a sponge bath when I got to my room. Nothing tasted right anymore----and I just wish I could have some energy---
 
A couple of surprises. My surgery was 4 weeks ago so I may have a few more surprises to come.
- I thought I would be on warfarin for a while but never was.
-I figured my ribs would hurt for awhile from the spreading they received. But basically no hurt in that respect. I did get real cramped a few times in back,neck, and chest muscles but was able to get them to relax through mild stretching and a bit of self massage.
-I only spent a few hours in ICU, then was fast tracked to a step down unit on main heart patient floor.
-Puked my guts up on way from ICU to step down unit. Was a bit surprised I wasn't returned to ICU.
-Extreme discomfort over next 36 hours and was moved as planned to final patient room. I was surprised I just kept getting shuffled along when I showed signs of feeling awful. During the move got an xray which confirmed a diagnosis of bowel blockage an hour or so before move.
-Surprised I started feeling great at that point and was able to keep breakfast down and lunch.
-At almost end of lunch, surprised to hear that I could no longer eat or drink anything. Things seemed to go backwards; feel awful and things move forward as usual. Feel great and we take giant steps back.
-Biggest surprise is I feel great and don't regret any of this procedure or experience. Almost looking forward to next time.
 
I was surprised to find out they were going to also do a by pass on me 10 minutes before wheeling me in. I was told I was going to have AVR, so I began to push back verbally , so they knocked me out and did what the surgeon wanted to do....a phone call would have been nice tho.
I was surprised I gained 4 pounds
I was surprised that removing the ventilator tube did not bother me, nor did any of the tubes....I was prepared for some type of pain.. refreshing to me.
I was surprised at how thirsty I was..not just when waking up, but all the first night. I also got really hungry later that night but they would only give me jello.
I had to beg for seconds but got it .
I begged for more meds
I was surprised at how bad my back hurt, I was expecting it to all be frontal.....was I ever wrong.
I was surprised later to have thought I saw family in the recovery room with me that were not there, sure thought I remembered them tho.
I'm 6 weeks out now and surprised now to think it was not all that bad to have gone thru, but I'm not looking forward to anymore BIG surgeries,
Kidney and Heart is enough.
I'm really surprised at what a great job the surgeon did at sealing the incision and what a clean line it is.
I will surprise myself if I ever forget how lucky I am, each and every day.
The number one best surprise and why I edited my post..on my 2 mile walk, I was surprised at how much more endurance I have.
Before surgery I could not make it 50 yds without gasping, I was surprised that I could tell before I left the hospital things would be different in a better way.

Brad
 
Ladies. How is handling the hair dryer in the hospital ? Do-able ? Come on this is important !
 
Sorry, a man here, but I found that handling a blow-dryer was remarkably easy only 5 days post-surgery. My hair was a filthy sweat-soaked mass (stress from the sudden onset of symptoms, etc.), and I so wanted to clean it really badly. The 'waterless' shampoo just doesn't cut it. The dryer, being less than a pound, was easy to hold up, and it felt great to dry and straighten out my hair. Using my circular brush in my other hand didn't cause any problems with my sternum, either. The surprise (see--I'm staying on topic here :) ) was how human and alive it made me feel just to have clean, dry hair after my first hot shower post-op. Generally the hospitals that I know of supply blow-dryers in their patient rooms, though it may not be true in other states and/or countries. Chris
 
- How blessed I am
- How God works through these gifted medical professionals
- Breathing tube was the worse (for me)
- That when I came to, I started singing "Go tell it on the mountain..."
- That I was able to make calls a few hours after my surgery to family & friends
- That no matter how much we take care of ourselves, many things are out of our control - God willing
- How much pain I didn't have with minimal use of narcotics (avg. 1.5 - 2.5 out of 10 being worst)
- Not to cough - wouldn't wish on my worst enemy
- How quickly I was able to gain my mobility minus the use of my arms from waist & above (i.e. lifting / using to help me get up)
- How easy, from surgeon's perspective, my bicuspid AVR procedure is (like walking and chewing gum for the average person)
- Prayers that overwhelmed me for those that experience much worse and don't have a change to experience or regain an active lifestyle (see selfish pity below)
- Selfish pity
- Ability to go back to work a week later (limited basis) - no, my wife drove me ;)
- that I am not invincible
- on & on & on

SB42
Bicuspid Aortic Valve Replacement - 01.18.12
Dr. John Garrett - http://www.virginiahospitalcenter.com/aboutus/vhc/executive/bio_a.aspx
Virginia Hospital Center (Arlington) - www.virginiahospitalcenter.com
 
- How routine OHS is to a cardio-thorasic surgeon.
- How quickly I recovered my strength (I'm eleven weeks post op and have much more stamina than before the surgery)
- How many people are in the cardiac rehab facility every time I go.
- The flush of emotions when I said good bye to my family before the surgery
- How good it felt to wash my hair on day 3 after my surgery
 
I was surprised that I was able to eat mcdonalds while I was in the hospital
I was surprised that it was such a tough time for me to open the doors while walking the hospital floors
I was surprised that I slept for more often then I ever have before
I was surprised the doctors and surgeons would always come in days after the surgery to talk to me and see how I was doing
I was surprised that I had to go everyday for a chest xray
I was surprised that I was on morphine and I wanted to use extra to fall asleep it didnt really help
I was surprised that when I tried to lay on my side to sleep i just couldnt bare it at all
 
Great thread...

I was surprised by:

being able to walk less than 24 hours after being split open

being able to sit completely straight up when I woke up. (Not surprised how awful waking up with a tube down your neck was, I can now imagine what water boarding feels like)

being told your lungs had completely deflated

seeing how long the drainage tubes were as they were pulled out

I was surprised how good one can feel after said drainage tubes were pulled out

I am sure there are more...
 
Great thread...
seeing how long the drainage tubes were as they were pulled out

I was surprised how good one can feel after said drainage tubes were pulled out

You watched them pull out your drainage tubes? I'm impressed. I was doing my best to breath out as told and look anywhere but at my chest while they were working! But I do agree that it was quite a relief when those tubes were gone.
 
When I woke up from surgery and was on support and banged on the bed railing, went to sleep and woke up banging on the bed railling again. That was suprising to me and will always remember that. And the banging was a surprise for me.
 
Jan 31st 2012. Woke up too early from surgery, had breathing tube in. Nobody told me not to fight it, to breath along with it. It was so deep was gagging me. I started throwing up in the tube. none of the nurses could understand what I was trying to communicate. They even left for a few minutes and left me alone. Was drowning in my own vomit. They had my arms tied down to the bed no doubt to keep me from pulling the thing out of my throat. They brought me a notepad and pencil I finally scribbled puke on the pad. They got excited about then and brought in another machine/tube to expell vomit from tube. They said: hang on, this is going to hurt really bad (induce a cough) they were not kidding one bit, that thing hurt worse than anything you can imagine. They done it at least 3 or 4 times. It was still touching the back of my stomach (or lungs?) trying to gag me. They had a shift change to night shift a few minutes later. An older lady with strong arms (nurse) maybe 60, came in and she knew how to help me.Could even read my mind. She pulled me up into a ball so the thing was not gagging me and stayed there with me and with her helper til I went back to sleep. Later that night I awoke and they were sponging me off (the 2 Angels). Sometime the next morning I awoke to find no breathing tube and was resting, breathing on my own. Still with all the tubes and stuff all over me, it was so much a relief that night was over. I never saw the lady again, but wonders who she is and the hospital should pay her about 3 times as much. A nurse like her is worth her weight in gold. I thank God every day for sending her that night!
 
I was surprised to learn:

*My surgery lasted over 9 hours
*Once my aortic valve was replaced, my mitral valve leakage worsened and the decision was made to get that replaced while they had me open
*I have no recollection of the first day post-surgery, I was that out of it
*How patient I would have to become with the recovery process
*How much it would hurt to cough, sneeze - even laugh - the first few weeks out from surgery
*That I now have an audible ticking from my mechanical valves that anyone can hear without the aid of a stethoscope
 
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