A FUNNY THING HAPPENED ON THE WAY TO MY STRESS TEST (2 page)

4.

Here it Comes

I was taken upstairs to my beautiful room (I had no idea I was entitled to this, but I heard my doctors prescribed these accommodations). It had a beautiful view of the upper west side of New York. I suppose if you’re going through something like this, it helps the spirit to see beauty rather than pondering your fate. My main concern was food. Could I eat now? It still wasn’t fully sinking in what was going to happen the next day. The staff was only too happy to bring me a couple of turkey sandwiches which I gobbled down very quickly. I squeezed out every drop of mayo & ketchup (and even mustard) from those stupid little silver packets they provide you with to make your sandwich a little less dry. I go along with the theory that it’s a mayonnaise sandwich with turkey — not the other way around.

Little did I know, this was going to be my last solid meal for a while. There was nothing left on my tray by the time they came to remove it.

Jeanne and I were trying to come to grips with this news. I was going to have quadruple bypass open heart surgery the next day. Where was I on the schedule? Number two of two? Yikes. What do they do? Slice someone open, work for hours, seal them up and then grab me? I began to realize I was about to go through what David Letterman & Regis Philbin had done a few years earlier. I was younger than both of them (though not younger than Letterman when he actually had his surgery — he was only 52).

Jeanne had called my mother and suddenly there she was in the chair by the window. No easy feat for her. She had been mugged five years earlier and has never fully recovered from being knocked to the ground and having her shoulder and leg broken. She has a hard time getting around and uses a walker or a wheelchair. But there she was supporting her first born in what was turning into a very major hospital visit. I bet she never thought this was in the cards. This was the first time the reality hit that I could die before she did.

It was evening by now and I begged Jeanne and my mother to go get something to eat themselves. They went across the street for a little while and brought me back another dessert. There was still this great Kozy Shack vanilla pudding waiting for me and now I had a rice pudding right next to it. I tasted a bit but couldn’t eat anymore. I asked Jeanne to take them both home for me to finish up when (or if?) I returned.

I looked up at the TV and saw it had a message on it that you had to pay to use it so I skipped watching. It was the first of the bullshit in this hospital. I didn’t find out until I came back to the room a few days later that the TV did indeed work and was complimentary — but no one told me that the first day. It didn’t matter; I had my mother, Jeanne and a lot on my mind. I didn’t want them to just sit around forever so I told them they could leave if they wanted to. I wanted Jeanne to catch a cab with my mom to make it easier on her. Jeanne was really in a panic despite putting on a brave front. I was simply stunned. I know they set this operation up fast so that the patient doesn’t have a chance to realize what was going to happen. By the way, the next day happened to be Friday the 13th.

5.

The Deed

I awoke very early to the numerous tests they insist upon doing constantly; blood pressure (the only test that doesn’t hurt besides using a thermometer on your head), blood sugar and the inevitable IV. I was assigned a male nurse who couldn’t have been more concerned; he was a very kind man who tried to calm me down with some very optimistic information as well as stories of his past. He really cared.

I decided I could get in one more shower. Why not? Be nice and clean for my operation. One thing missing. They don’t supply shampoo. Jeanne called at 7:45 and I told her they were saying I would probably be taken sometime after 9 so she was rushing to get some coffee and race up to the hospital to be there when I was taken in. (All for nothing since they were way behind schedule but didn’t let us know…I guess they couldn’t leave the person before me ‘half done.’) I also informed her that I needed shampoo. She got there right away to make sure she wasn’t out of the loop in any of the steps that were to follow. I thought my time was going to be at 10
AM
 — guess again. It dragged on for hours. Do you have any idea what that wait is like? I am very glad I had Jeanne there, but what torture it is to know they are going to rip you wide open but keep postponing the deadline! It’s kind of like awaiting an execution and getting pardoned every hour. And keep in mind, you are not allowed to eat or drink. I was glad I ate all those sandwiches the night before, but that can take you only so far.

I went into the shower but Jeanne forgot to put the shampoo in there, so I waited for what seemed like forever for her to return with her coffee. She had been on the phone with her mother and completely forgot about the shampoo. She handed it to me and I got back into the shower. First, I had a bitch of a time trying to get that damn bottle open. She had brought the bottle we took from our recent hotel stay in Maryland. She also didn’t put her glasses on when she slipped it in her bag. When I finally got the bottle open and poured it on my head, it seemed awfully thin to be shampoo. That’s because it wasn’t! She had given me this blue bottle of mouthwash that was now in my hair. Nice way to start the day. Perhaps I should swallow some shampoo and comb my throat and have my hair kiss my wife. Don’t want to waste the mouthwash.

One of the funniest things is when all the doctors on the case come in and line up like a photo shoot. They are there to prepare you for what is going to happen…sort of. They basically want to let you know you’re going to be okay and will answer any of your questions. Most of them are not going to be directly involved in your operation, so it’s kind of silly even to ask specific questions since they really don’t know. One speaks on behalf of the staff and the rest stare at you like you have spots. And then they march right out.

Jeanne took it upon herself to crawl into bed with me. Being as small as she is, it didn’t take much effort or maneuvering. It was comforting and sad at the same time. We both knew how scary the next hours would be. It was 12:30
PM
and I still hadn’t been taken to the OR. I was starving but was enjoying our last close moments together — in fact, Jeanne even suggested we go further but I told her she was crazy! She grinned and we kissed and awaited the executioners. They arrived at 2
PM
and said it was time. I moved from the bed onto a gurney and Jeanne followed. This was the start of my traveling by stretcher, and I must say it was the best part of this journey. I admit I’m a lazy ass who never exercises so to have people push me around on a bed felt great. I don’t, however, recommend you get your body smashed to smithereens for a joyride through the hospital.

I was taken to the prep area, but this time it was for a more elaborate shave — all my chest hair. The guy doing it was very patient and considerate and took his time making sure it was quite smooth. I was a little nervous knowing it was getting a lot more serious now. Jeanne was very complimentary on my new look. She actually thought I looked good this way. This prep area was not even a room — it was kind of a tent within a much bigger room. The woman about to get my IV started was distracted by a woman screaming across the room from me. She was yelling that no one informed her loved ones that she was still waiting there to be operated on. She had a point. Most of us just sit around and wait and unless you have someone with you, no one gets the word if you’re alive or dead. They finally calmed her down.

Now this is where it gets murky for me. I think I should defer to Jeanne as I have no real memory of what happened next — nor do I want to remember!!!

Jeanne:
An IV was put into his vein to give him fluids. Next came the A line; I got really nervous knowing what an arterial line is (a catheter going into the artery). It is very painful and I was wondering if they would let me stay with him while they did it; I was so scared for Brian. I begged the physician’s assistant to let me stay. She did. Although she numbed him with lidocaine first, she couldn’t get the A line in. An A line is deeper than just an IV in your vein. Although Brian was amazingly brave after much discomfort, they finally sent the anesthesiologist in, who told me, in no uncertain terms, to leave; I did. I was designated to the other side of the curtain. They gave him some anesthesia, which made him very woozy. I was so relieved as the anesthesiologist got the A line in. As they wheeled him back to the OR, I kissed him goodbye and stood and watched as I heard him say in this frightened innocent voice, “Are you going to break open my chest now?”

They looked at him with puzzled looks on their faces as he repeated…“is this when you’re going to break open my chest”? At this point I lost it…I cried the entire way home. They said it would be over around 8 or 9
PM;
I looked at the clock — it was 3:30
PM.

6.

In the Interim

(Jeanne’s Chapter)

I had to keep my mind off what was happening; I had my plan. I went out and bought two fashion magazines, went home and fed the kitties, put on my flip flops and actually sprang for a cab. (Sorry Brian, I know you’d hate that part, but you’re sleeping.) I was just so anxious I had to get back to that hospital.

With a cup of tea, a bagel and my magazines, I was off to the 6th floor waiting area. It was a dismal room with a TV tuned to CNN that I hoped would keep my mind off Brian. What were they doing to him? I couldn’t even look at those magazines. I paced the hallway trying to sneak a peek of something. Finally around 7
PM
my cell phone rang; it was our sweet friend Bronwyn wanting to know what was happening. She had gotten a phone call from someone who saw something on Facebook about Brian and open heart surgery! (Brian had kept up his Facebook posts through me and my iPhone — today’s post was “Open Heart surgery today — film at 11:00.”)