47M, CABGx3 on 2-24. Been home since 3-1.  

This was my first time being a patient. It was really my first time with anything medical except for the occasional “turn your head & cough” checkup every few years.

I’m a pretty active & healthy guy.  I lift heavy, walk several miles a day, don’t smoke, though I do drink a few beers a few times a week.  My diet was less than great but it wasn’t all fast food.  Standard American suburban dad food.  Steak, tacos, pasta, tacos, bourbon and beer.  All the delicious things.  Heart issues were far from my mind.  I had no symptoms of anything. I felt great.  I was convinced that I was invincible.  

Got a cardiac calcium scan on the recommendation of my doc during a routine visit. “Hey, I know you feel great but your parents both had heart issues, you should get this and just see if anything is going on in your heart.”   That simple suggestion (and my not ignoring it) saved my life.   

The calcium scan was a simple process, took 10 min & cost me $50. Got the results a day or two later.  I had read that any score above 400 was bad.    My score came back at 1598.   Oh fuck…

Immediately I found a cardiologist who set me up with another ct scan, this time with an iv contrast to get a better look at my arteries.  This was again a simple process…a bunch of meds to slow my heart rate and an iv. No big deal. Contrast was a weird sensation, kinda like I was wetting my pants.  (I didn’t) Results came back suggesting some serious blockages but the scan wasn’t too clear because it was tough to get my heart rate below 68.  

Met with the cardiologist a few days later.  We discussed the test results and my total lack of symptoms. He decided to set me up for an angiogram the next week.  This is the gold standard, he said, for seeing what’s going on in the heart.  He also wanted me to get an echo too.  I scheduled both immediately.  

Angiogram was super simple and pain free.  Whole thing took a couple hours, most of which was in recovery with a pressure bandage on my wrist.  It was my first real experience as a gown wearing patient and also with sedation….fentanyl anyone?  Damn good stuff! Now I get the hype.   I should mention here that the prep for this included a couple of nurses shaving my chest, right arm and thighs. That was unexpected and I give them credit for their sheep shearing skills.  

The doc was very helpful before the procedure.  He explained that maybe the CT scans made it look worse than it was, or maybe they were exactly as bad and he’d place a stent or two.  Or option 3…..everything was much worse and I’d need surgery.  They wheeled me into the procedure room and we were all chatting and keeping the banter light.  They tied my arms down and filled my IV with the good stuff.  I was awake the whole time but don’t remember much. Definitely felt no pain. 

As I was in recovery shaking off the sedation, the doc came to chat.  “Remember when I mentioned option 3…” He found some serious blockages everywhere, right side, left side, upside, downside. All the worst spots. He couldn’t place any stents because the blockages were all better than 85%.  He wished me luck and moments later, a nurse walked in and handed me a card.  They made me an appt to see the surgeon 4 days later.  

Knowing what was coming, I spent the those four days beginning to prep for the battle ahead.  I ordered a recliner, set up a recovery space, pillows, button front shirts and all the things I’ve read here that would make my recovery easier. This was huge and key to my current success. 

Met with the surgeon.  Again, great dude and definitely on top of his game.  He pulled up the video of the angiogram and showed me where the problems were. He said that it was surprising that I had no symptoms of anything given that the major arteries in my heart were 90% blocked.  He said that it was just a matter of time until I had a major, and likely fatal, heart attack.  He scheduled the surgery for 10 days later.  

It’s here that I have to mention that I’m a full time single dad of two teens.  The three of us are tight.  Inseparable.  We travel together all the time. Adventure is our happy place.   The night before I met with the surgeon, I explained to my kids what was going on.  Seems like our lives are gonna change for a bit….pack your bags, let’s go find some joy to balance out the suck that’s coming.  A couple hours after the appt with the surgeon, we headed for the airport.  

This was a smart move and it gave us time to spend together.  To process what was about to happen.  What could happen. They were nervous.  Though they would never see it, I was terrified of what was coming and what could happen. Hitting pause on everyday life to embrace those moments of intentional togetherness and adventure was exactly what I wanted all three of us to have fresh on our minds. 

After our week of adventure, I began final preparations for the surgery and the possibility of not surviving surgery. The surgeon said that I had a 1% chance of complications.  I’ll take those odds.  He explained that while this will be major surgery for me, for him and his team it will just be Monday.  They do this every day, all week long on people way sicker than me.  And, he said, they’re good at it.  

In spite of these assurances, I felt that it would be completely irresponsible of me to not prepare for the worst.   I prepared a list of all of my finances.  I prepaid bills. Set recurring bills to be auto-charged to high limit a credit card so that they could keep going for months.  I wrote my obituary.  I planned my funeral. I even put together one of those picture slideshows you always see at funerals.  I prepared lists of people to call.  Took the passcode off my phone.   I tried to think of everything that would be needed in my absence and then put things in place so my kids would be taken care of.   These preparations were difficult and dark, but they’re also part of being a good father.  I still haven’t gone back to think of those things and how I feel about them. 

Surgery day finally arrived.  I wasn’t nervous, I was ready.  Calm and ready.  I arrived first thing in the morning and the pre-op stuff started right away.  Shave most of my body hair, a shower, more of those lovely wipes, an IV, some meds.  The surgeon came in to chat.  Said he was well rested and feeling good.  It was go time.  The anesthesiologist came in and is a good friend of mine who I asked to be my guy for this surgery.  Also asked him to take some pics of my heart. He said he would, gave me a dose of something wonderful, and started wheeling me toward the OR.  That’s the last thing I remember. 

I came to in the ICU.  Intubated. I laid there for about 20-30 minutes doing my best to stay calm and breathe.  My friend was there watching over me.  That helped.  Eventually they took the tube out and things got better.  It got even better when I was able to have some water and rinse out my mouth.  I was uncomfortable but I wasn’t in pain.  The nurses saw to that.  A couple of norco every 4 hours with plenty of morphine in between.  It wasn’t great.  But it was fine. 

About 2 hours after being extubated, the nurse grabbed my phone for me. I was able to call my kids and text my friends.  I was fine.  Spent that first night chatting with the nurse and drifting in & out of sleep. Before the morning shift change, the nurses got me up and into a recliner.  It was easy, it was uncomfortable to move with 4 chest tubes and a big main line sticking out of my neck, not to mention the cracked sternum.  But it wasn’t bad.  

My mindset was that the surgery was on the docs, all I had to do was lay there. The recovery is all on me. Stay calm, stay positive.  Accept the pain and push through.  

Met with the surgeon early that morning. He explained that the surgery went exactly as planned.  He used arteries from my chest wall and left arm to fix my heart.  Arteries being the preferred way to do this.  Doc seemed quite pleased as he explained that the grafts he did are very elegant.  He said that in addition to steel wire, he also used some titanium plates to hold my sternum together.  

Later that morning, my nurse said it was time for a walk.  Hell yes, let the healing begin!  They set up a walker and connected all my drains to it.  One nurse pushed my IV pole and monitors, one hung on to me.  We made a full lap around the ICU.  320 feet. Probably took me 15 minutes.  I was out of breath but it wasn’t bad.  We did that once more that day. 

The nurses stayed on top of the pain meds.  Norco every 4 hours, morphine on request.  It was easy.  I dozed a lot. 

A quick word on nurses.  These are some amazing humans full of equal parts compassion, skill, positivity and patience. They’ve got an unbelievably tough job and let’s face it, patients can be real bastards.  I could hear a couple folks down the hall from me screaming and generally being audibly miserable.  Don’t be that guy.  We’re all in pain dude, get yourself under control.   

I had a new nurse every 12 hours and they took unbelievable care of me.  Do yourself a favor and be nice to them.  They know what they’re doing and will make your recovery as easy & painless as they can.

At the end of day 1, they took out some of the chest tubes. That helped tremendously.  The day after, they took out the rest.  That made all the difference.  Now I felt pretty good. Walking got easier without them.  Walking, I knew, is the key to recovery.  So is using the spirometer. Deep breaths hurt.  But deep breaths hurt way less than pneumonia.  Had to keep in mind that the recovery part was on me.  So deep breaths it is!

Surgery was Monday and by Wednesday, I could really feel my body rebooting. Systems were coming back online. Things were getting easier. 

Post op day 4, Friday morning. The surgeon comes in and says that I’m doing great.  I can go home if I felt ready but he thinks the smart thing is one more night.  So, I stayed one more night.   Trust the doc to know what’s best.  The next morning I was able to walk myself out of the ICU and to the car. Even took the stairs.  It was a good feeling.  

I’ve been recovering at home for one full week now.  It’s pretty dull but that’s to be expected.  I sleep in a recliner, drink lots of protein shakes and take at least one decent walk a day.  I’ve been averaging around 9k steps a day.  Walks don’t hurt but I am exhausted afterwards. I nap a lot. 

The pain is really minimal.  I have an occasional Tylenol but that’s it.  It’s more of a constant, low level discomfort.  If I sneeze or start coughing a bit (that does suck tremendously), I’ve always got a bottle of Norco to fall back on. 

I’m having a very do it yourself recovery.  It’s only me here to take care of me. I really think that’s key to getting through this.   Laying in a chair all day and feeling sorry for myself helps no one.  My kids are happy to help when asked but my struggles are not their burden. My daughter had a great time heading to the store to grab me some chocolate yesterday.  Shes also enjoying helping me eat it.  What is it about chocolate that makes things better?

This is my battle so far.  The intense part is over.  Now it’s just the long, slow slog toward getting back to full speed.  I’m reminding myself to keep pushing but also to be nice to myself.  They worst of the physical battle is behind me, the rest is mostly mental.  In the last couple days, I’ve started to feel things and process what just happened.  Did I really wake up last Monday and give my kids what I thought would be our final hug?  Wow. 

As you get ready to go through what I just did, remember that this is a battle.  Battles are won through careful preparation and intentional calm.  You will get through this and while it is absolutely going to suck (there’s no doubt about that) how much it sucks can depend on you.  

These significant life events give us pause to reflect and the clarity to remember that life is to be embraced and fought for. And it’s far, far too short not to be lived completely.  Wherever you are in your journey toward cardiac health, good luck and never stop fighting. 

My CABG Journey