OK...
Below you can read Kevin's version of today (Friday July 21, 2007)...but who wants HIS version when you can have mine, right?
So...several months ago I started walking to lose weight. Being a Caring Wife I asked (read: nagged) Kev to come with me. On the first walk, on the second hill, he complained of shortness of breath. In my most caring tone I reponded in what could only be considered a sympathetic response that went something along the lines of: "Kev, you're 45, you haven't exercised in years, and its allergy season...of course you're out of breath...we're ALL out of breath. Pull it up." (Don't you wish you were related to me?). His panting and whining continued...so as we headed home I said, "Listen, you're creeping me out...I'm calling Barb."
You need to meet Barb. We met her while we were living in Dear Miss Susan's apartment...Barb and her granddaughter were commandeered to care for Fluffy during one of our trips. Jessica, her granddaughter, who did the actual Rodent Hospitality, and Meghan ultimately became fast friends...It was with Barb and her family that Megh went to Disney World last year...and it was with Jessica that Megh went to Arizona/California/L.A. with week or so ago. Barb has Medical Connections of the Amazing Sort, and within days she had an appointment with a wonderful doctor named Capp Hoskins (Personally, I think "Capp Hoskins" is someone you'd find in a Spaghetti Western or a Film Noir Mystery--smoking a roughly rolled cigarette and laughing huskily).
Zip ahead a few weeks into the Shingle Zone...Kev goes in early because the Dr. Capp is leaving and blah, blah, blah, Kev's in great health, blah, blah, blah, got the blood pressure of a 15-year-old (come to find out he may have meant a 15-year-old labrador retriever), blah, blah, blah, blood work is great, blah, blah, can't believe how healthy and handsome he is, blah, blah, blah, but he has shingles. However...because of the shortness of breath...and his age...Dr. Hoskins ordered a stress test for the following week. No Big Deal.
Kevin nearly cancelled this morning...they're filming and he felt like it was going to be a burden but he had already cancelled once and he canceled two other appointments for today (that were ordered "because of his age") but--for whatever reason, thank God--he kept this one
.
.
I, Still the Ever Doting Wife, didn't even go with him to the test. "You'll be fine," I said. "You just walk on a treadmill for a while and they'll say 'Kevin, you're fat...and out of shape.' I'll meet you for lunch." Yeah, I'm up for the WIFE OF THE FREAKIN' YEAR AWARD...send your votes to www.heartlessspouse.com.
So I didn't believe him when Kev called and said he had failed the stress test and they were sending him to a Cath Lab. I leave my meeting, call Barb to check on the Doctor that would check on Kev (did I tell you she worked for a malpractise lawyer now?), made arrangements for Megh and took off.
No Big Deal, right?
I meet the Doctor, check. He's a very serious man. Friends come--it felt weird having people around me becasue it's nothing to worry about. We go back to see him and laugh because he looks funny with the little backless gown falling off his shoulder and his arms covered in tubes. We pray for Kev and they take him away. I Talk to Dr. Capp--Kev's in great health, he comforts...it may end up being a false positive--that happens. No Big Deal.
Within the half hour another doctor comes out. They found the problem--a blockage in the Lateral LAD (Left Going Down Artery or something like that)--how much? "Ummm," she pauses. "90 percent."
Let me just say that "90 percent" in the medical world is WAY different than Normal People's 90%. When we got to see the procedure (which Kev witnessed as they actually DID the deed) you could see the blockage...and wasn't no 90 %...that is unless you mean90% as "a hairline passage in which there is not enough room to pass even an actual human hair through." The Blockage was located high up on the LAD--like a gate at a turnpike--and it was amazing to see that blood was, in fact getting through, somehow. Barb said that the LAD was like that...it figures out ways to get around problems, if it can. If you have to have blockage, the LAD is the place to get it. Even so, she said Kevin was a Cardiac Arrest Time Bomb that was about to blow.
We are now sitting in the hospital room. It's 1 a. m. Kevin is complaining about the pain in his groin (I've called him a Pain in the Opposite of Groin...but I kind of like the simplicity of "Pain in the Groin" --perhaps it shall be shortened to the even more simply P.I.G....Now I can say, "Kevin you're being a P.I.G." and we will know it doesn't mean he's eating with his mouth open. Hmmm...Anyway...that's what they are concerned with mostly, the groin hole where the Tubey Thing and the Lead Wire Thing and the Dye shooter Thing and the Stint Taker Uper Thing went. They come in and check his leg. Never mind the Stint in the Heart! We want to see the Hole in the Groin! *smile*
Within the last 24 hours: I've found out that others knew the potential danger he was in before I had a clue...and came just to be with me in my ignorant optomism without saying a word. I've found out the doctor who gave Kev the stress test called over and hand picked one of the best reactionary cardiac cath doctors in this heart hospital. I've found out that Kev's night nurse is a third generation Christian from India who has brought us a lounger, a cot, an extra sandwich ,and a couple of diet cokes, along with a bunch of hugs and prayers. I've learned that everyone should get a stress test if they are nearing the age of Middle--I'm calling my doctor Tuesday. I've been told that jet skiing, tromping up and down hills, hot weather, dragging heavy equipment, among countless other activities that Kevin has happily participated in over the past several months, could have overwhelmed the nearly sealed artery sending him into cardiac arrest. I've learned that death isn't always the worst thing that can happen when your heart can't get oxygen...you could live but be totally crippled by the event. I've learned that a lot of emotion happens when you see on the consent sheet the line about "emergency heart surgery" and the possible that that might be someone you love. I've learned that God's Kindness comes in countless forms: a song on the radio, phone calls, emails, visits even though I've said "no," a good doctor going on a "hunch," a husband who makes a choice, little diversions, a beautiful sunset, a private room, places for my daughter, another day with my Adorable Boy and my Sweet Daughter. The list doesn't stop.
In the midst of this we get word that someone Kev worked with on building the filming site got up this morning with his wife. No Big Deal. She took a shower and came out of the bathroom to find him fallen over, dead. He was a wonderful Christian man with terriic faith-filled kids, and had a fabulous work for God. My stunned prayers go out to her and her children who we know and love.
I don't know what to make of it all...but right now I'm going to cuddle up with my recovering husband after I text my daugher good night. I won't sleep. But it won't matter. Because being near him is an Incredibly BIG DEAL!
Please continue to pray for us and the film shoot. Weird things continue on all fronts.
According to the doctor, we should be going home tomorrow and, if Kev feels up to it, he could be on set--at least for a while--tomorrow night.
Hug each other especially close for us tonight...and ask your doctor about a stress test on Monday.
Marcy
Below is Kevin's version...
During the rat/maze/treadmill exercise test the nurses began to look
worried. They stopped the test, took me to a room and then the physician
arrived. He looked at a loss for words. He then said this was the worst
stress test he had ever seen! He said it appeared as though two of my three
arteries were nearly 100% clogged. He refused to let me leave or drive my
own vehicle. He said he had already called an ambulance to rush me to the
hospital. He said I was a walking time bomb! They actually rushed me past
emergency room procedures which caused the emergency staff to nearly get
huffy. But the surgeon and two nurses came into the room and said to skip
all that and take me straight to the surgical lab. All of this excitement
took place within one hour! The team came in and went to work going up in
through my groin with a guide wire and dye. It was then the surgeon watched
live x-rays as he discovered my left ascending artery 90% closed...that¹s
like a pencil dropping to the width of a stretched paper clip! He then
tried an inserted balloon to stretch the artery...but it began to disfigure
it. Next measure is the stint. Basically it is like taking apart an old
bic pen and removing the spring around the ink shaft. This metal tube-like
spring is inserted up the artery into the constricted area and then
expanded. It has a material on it to adhere to the artery walls and become
part of me. This took and the artery began to pass blood like normal. He
seemed relieved and pleased. The only next step would have been emergency
open heart surgery. Praise God that wasn't necessary!!!
worried. They stopped the test, took me to a room and then the physician
arrived. He looked at a loss for words. He then said this was the worst
stress test he had ever seen! He said it appeared as though two of my three
arteries were nearly 100% clogged. He refused to let me leave or drive my
own vehicle. He said he had already called an ambulance to rush me to the
hospital. He said I was a walking time bomb! They actually rushed me past
emergency room procedures which caused the emergency staff to nearly get
huffy. But the surgeon and two nurses came into the room and said to skip
all that and take me straight to the surgical lab. All of this excitement
took place within one hour! The team came in and went to work going up in
through my groin with a guide wire and dye. It was then the surgeon watched
live x-rays as he discovered my left ascending artery 90% closed...that¹s
like a pencil dropping to the width of a stretched paper clip! He then
tried an inserted balloon to stretch the artery...but it began to disfigure
it. Next measure is the stint. Basically it is like taking apart an old
bic pen and removing the spring around the ink shaft. This metal tube-like
spring is inserted up the artery into the constricted area and then
expanded. It has a material on it to adhere to the artery walls and become
part of me. This took and the artery began to pass blood like normal. He
seemed relieved and pleased. The only next step would have been emergency
open heart surgery. Praise God that wasn't necessary!!!
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