And we pick up the write up of my
recent bypass surgery right where we left off.
The previous chapter can be found here).
Sometime that morning a doctor came by
to check on me. She assured me that the
angiogram was a routine operation and I had nothing to worry about. I did mention to her that I would really like
to go to my car to get a few items before being transported to Sunset. I told her that two nurses had told me that
this might be possible. But she said I
got some bad info. With all the monitors
hooked up to me, there was no way they'd take me to car. Not a chance.
So I was stuck with a dying
celphone. I didn't borrow another
charger, because it was close to the time that they would be taking me to the
new facility. I did my best to preserve
my power, which meant not using the phone most of the time. Which being bored as hell, as I had
absolutely no entertainment available to me at all. Daytime TV was even less
interesting to me than nighttime TV. And
I wasn't distracted by a meal—I couldn't eat or drink before the procedure.
After what seemed like an eternity,
the ambulance guys showed up right on time.
They moved me from the hospital bed to the ambulance gurney, grabbed all
my things (mostly clothes, keys, wallet) and wheeled me to the ambulance.
The ride in the ambulance was
interesting. It was a first for me,
fortunately I'd never been in ambulance before.
It was a pretty claustrophobic in there.
Also, it was interesting riding around town and trying to figure out
where we were by only looking out the back window of the car. I had to figure out where we were by seeing
the freeway signs for exits we had just passed.
The other thing of note—it was a whole new perspective for me to
appreciate just how badly people drive.
I saw a whole bunch of cars that really came close to clipping the
ambulance. All I could think of was that
if anyone hit us, I might miss the scheduled time for my procedure due to the
exchange of insurance and driver's licenses.
That didn't happen. The ambulance took me directly to the area
where they do the angiograms. It was
huge area with a ton of tiny cubicles. I
was wheeled into my cubicle and greeted by my nurse, a young Asian fellow. The first order of business was logging in my
personal belongings, which had survived the trip from Panorama City. He made a note of all my clothes, my watch,
and then while I was carefully monitoring, he went into my wallet. He noted my driver’s license, all my credit
cards, and then counted my cash.
Remember that I had intended to drive
to Vegas two days from then. Thus, I had
$750 cash on me. The nurse did a double
take at that, and then said that he would make sure to put the bag that had my
pants and wallet (and cash) with me when they wheeled me into to the room where
they would do the angiogram. Usually it would stay behind in my cubicle, but he
thought it would be safer to have it with me during the procedure.
The nurse told me I’d be there
awhile. When they said my procedure was
at 2PM, they meant that’s when they wanted me to be there. Now that I was there, they’d put me on the
schedule and it would be at least until 3:30 before they’d get to me. I later learned that facility did 28
angiograms that day, which was a lot for them.
They were very busy.
And then the nurse asked me the
immortal question, “Did they shave you at Panorama City?” I said yes.
“Well, I’ll have to check, most of the time they don’t do a very good
job.” I wasn’t in the least bit
surprised by his statement. So he
checked. Guess what? “Yeah, I’m gonna have shave you again,
sorry. They weren’t very thorough.”
Ok, so why do they even bother? It gave credence to my theory that the old
biddy who shaved me earlier that morning did it for her own thrills and not to
help prepare me for surgery.
Thus, for the second time this day, a
total stranger took a razor to my pubes.
It was indeed my lucky day.
I was basically stuck there, flat on
my back, for 90 minutes or more. I had
my celphone but was still trying to preserve power. This was a different kind
of facility than I’d been in the previous night, and I didn’t even try to borrow
a charger. I just turned on my phone
sporadically to check for messages.
Finally the nurse said I was on the
schedule and the angiogram medical techs would be by any minute to wheel me to
the room where the procedure would be done.
A few minutes later, two or three guys
in scrubs came by to take me away. They
were in their mid-30’s I guess. The
nurse handed them the bag with my pants (and my money) and told them that it
had to go with me because there was $750 cash in there. So one of the techs said, “$750? Let’s run that up to $1,000.” I laughed and said, “How…..you gonna take it
to Vegas?”
He did a double take and said, “I like
your thinking.” Then, to one of the
other techs he said, “Did you see they approved the stadium deal for the
Raiders to move to Vegas? Some big casino owner is behind it. It’s that
guy…..” he was drawing a blank on the
name, so I helped him out. “Sheldon
Adelson….he owns the Venetian.”
“Yeah, that’s it,” the tech said. Then a couple of them had a discussion of
what it would mean if the Raiders moved to Vegas. I honestly can’t recall if I participated in
the discussion or not.
As they got me in the room where the
angiogram would be performed, the same guy said, “Just out of curiosity, what
do you do for a living, sir?”
“I work in the poker business.”
The guy said, “Aha, no wonder you know
so much about Vegas. So when you say you
work in the poker business….do you play?”
I understood his question to mean, am
I professional poker player? I said,
“Well, I play poker, but I don’t play for a living.” I may or may not have described what I actually
do.
Then he said, “Here’s how I win money
in Vegas. I play blackjack. I bet $15.
If I lose, I bet $30. If I lose
again I bet $60. I keep doubling until I
win.” I may have the details wrong, but
he pretty much described a classic Martingale style betting progression.
I said, “That’s not really a good
idea. It’s dangerous. Sooner or later you’re gonna be betting a
fortune to win $15. And you’ll either
run out of money or have to bet more than the maximum bet to chase that $15.” He said, “Yeah….well it’s always worked for
me. I always win by the 6th
bet. I’ve never run out of money.” Hmm….because they were prepping me, I didn’t
pursue this. I had other things on my
mind. But I do recall thinking, “Well, at least I got some material appropriate
for my blog out of this.”
The room where they do the angiogram
was huge. I mean really, really
big. Not sure why it has to be that big,
but it helps explain why they don’t do this at the facility I originally
checked into. They put floating X-ray
device over my chest while two doctors seemed to be working near my legs.
They don’t knock you out for this,
they just sedate you. Pretty amazing
when you think about it, that they stick a catheter in your groin, run it and
some dye through your arteries all the way to your heart, and you are conscious
the entire time. Of course, just a few
months back I had cataract surgery and they didn’t knock me out while they were
cutting open my eyeball.
So although I was relaxed and in no
pain during the procedure, I was aware of everything that was going on. I heard the two doctors talking, but I
couldn’t make out exactly what they were saying. However, it was pretty clear to me they
weren’t happy with what they were seeing.
I kept hoping to hear something positive, but I never did.
Finally one of the came over to me and
gave me the bad news. I don’t recall exactly what he said, but it was something
like, “Well, we’re sorry, the stents aren’t going to work for you. You need bypass surgery. We’ll get you on the schedule as soon as we
can.”
Fortunately I was sedated so I didn’t
scream, but clearly this was not the diagnosis I was looking for. They finished up and wheeled me back to my
cubicle, where my nurse was waiting for me.
As if the news wasn’t bad enough, I
was now extremely uncomfortable and destined to be that way for some time. After the procedure, I had to keep extremely
still, very minimal movement. Especially
the right leg (the side they put the catheter in). I couldn’t move that one iota. After an hour or so, I was allowed to move my
left leg a little, but it was like four hours before I was able to move that
right leg.
The nurse told me that he was gonna
try to get me some food. Remember, I
hadn’t eaten all day and it was now maybe 4-5 pm. He said I’d stay there until they had an
actual hospital room for me upstairs. He
said it would be awhile.
Eventually a cardiac surgeon came by
to discuss my condition. He reiterated
that there was a lot of blockage visible, and it would take a triple bypass to
repair it. He explained the procedure somewhat.
He said they were booked solid for tomorrow (a Friday), so they would
likely schedule me for early the following week. Needless to say, I would be stuck in the
hospital until then. He also said, “We
usually only do emergencies on the weekends.
Obviously no one wants to work the weekends.” That’s not an exact quote, but definitely the
gist of it.
Somehow, with my minimally allowed
movement, I was able to use my phone to contact my friends and relatives and
let them know what was going on. And
then I had to ask LM & Woody a huge, really huge favor. Since I would be in a hospital room for three
days before they even took a knife to me, it was imperative to me that I get
that stuff out of my car. Could they
drive to where I was in Hollywood, pick up car keys, drive to Panorama City,
get the stuff out of my car, and bring it back to me? It was a helluva lot to ask, but they didn’t
hesitate for a second.
The nurse kept me updated on the
status of my room….but it boiled down to “eventually.” Meanwhile I was extremely uncomfortable lying
still (and thinking about the surgery).
And my celphone was near death. I was waiting to get to a room, where I
assumed I could borrow a charger. In the
meantime, I turned the phone off and just lied there bored and thinking about
what my life would be like for the next 6-7 weeks. I mean, assuming I survived the surgery.
By the way, there actually was a TV
for my cubicle, but it was broken.
And that’s where I’ll leave it for
now. Hopefully I’ll have another chapter
later this week. Here's my recovery update: Been back home a few days now, getting used to that. I'm supposed to see a cardiologist tomorrow so I'll have a better idea how they think I'm coming along. I am at least sleeping better now that I'm back in my own bed. It's a slow process.
