“‘Sorry for the rush,” he finally eeked out.  “I’ve got a lot of people to move out of this place today,” he continued. 

“That’s cool,” I replied.  “The sooner you get me upstairs, the sooner I may be get some real food.”  I had long since lost my taste for chicken broth, gelatin and an occasional cracker or two.  I was ready for the real stuff.  My appetite coming back meant to me that things were returning to normal.

As we rounded the corner off the elevator on the Cardiac ward, we narrowly missed the nurse, Randy, who had been my favorite first time on the floor.  She quickly dodged the gurney, then looked up.  “Well, hi there!” she exclaimed.  “I was beginning to wonder if you’d ever be back.”

“Oh yeah,” I answered, “just couldn’t get a reservation.”

“You’re back in the same room,” she explained, “I’ll be down there in a minute to get you settled.”

As we rolled down the hall, I recognized several faces I’d seen now almost a week before.  Funny how I hadn’t even thought of any of them, but how important seeing their faces again had become.

We rolled into the room, and there sat Belinda!  “What’re you doing here?” I asked.  “How’d you know when I’d be back?”

She laughed.  “I’ve been here over a week, I was about to give up on you,” she answered.  “No seriously,” she continued, “John called me this morning and said they were letting you out of jail on a pass.

“You’re looking pretty good,” she continued.  She waited until they had gotten me into bed and walked to the side.  “You had me worried there for awhile,” she said as she kissed me on the forehead.  “Gotta admit, it’s never boring knowing you.”

The orderly left with the gurney while at the same time John came into the room.  “That didn’t take long,” he commented.  “Kinda weird you’re in the same room you were in, don’t you think?”

“I’m just glad to see the outside, glancing at the window.  The sun shone brightly through the trees at the front of the hospital – I was so grateful to be where I was.  “So bring on the feed bag,” I said, laughing.

Belinda reached over to the bedside table and grabbed a menu.  “Uh-oh,” she said, “still a diabetic diet.”

I cringed.  Though this was going to be solid food, I was sick of the flavorless, non-appetizing selections they were giving me.  “Wonder if I could get someone to bring me a big bowl of ice cream?” I asked, winking.

“That’s not going to happen,” I heard, as Randy entered the room.  “I see some things didn’t change while you were downstairs,” she smiled.  “Still not happy with the food service?”

“I just want something that TASTES good!” I said. 

“Don’t want to mess up the apple cart now,” she replied.  She walked to the foot of the bed, took a foot and held it.  “Wow, there’s a pulse in here now,” she said.  “‘Looks like they knew what they were doing down there.”

John strolled to the bedside, straightened my pillows, and sat on the side of the bed.  “Well, at last now I can keep an eye on you,” he added.  That ‘10 minutes ever hour’ visitation was about to drive me crazy!”

He turned to Belinda.  “Ready for some breakfast?” he asked.  “I’m sure they’ll keep him out of trouble while we’re gone.”

“Sure,” she said.  “Let’s go.”  They stood and started for the door.  “See you in a bit,” John said.

Randy pulled the stats cart to the bedside.  “Now let’s see what we’ve got going on here.”  She checked my pulse, temperature, oxygen level.  “Everything’s looking good,” she said.

“It ought to,” I added.  “I got all new parts.”  I reached for the phone and dialed the in-house food ordering service.  As I chose anything and everything I knew I could have, I thanked God I had made it back this far.  The hump had been a big one, but I was slowly moving forward.

I’d been in my “interim” room only a day when John walked in with a big smile on his face.  “They’re moving you,” he said.  “And you won’t believe it, it’s back to the same room you were in on the Cardiac Ward before.”

He walked over and patted me on the arm.  “Hang in there, buddy,” he smiled, “we’re finally moving forward here.  Don’t rock the boat.”

I smiled and sat up in the bed.  “So what’s the next step, and how fast can I bust out of this place?”

“Hold on, cowboy,” he replied.  “Remember, they’re still deciding whether or not you need a pacemaker, though quite honestly, that’ll be a piece of cake compared to the last week.”

p style=”text-align: center;”>Click here now for FREE, informative information on heart disease and how you can prevent it!

Your information is secure. I will never sell, give away or share your information! You can unsubscribe at any time. I hate spam, too!

Just then Carlotta, a large, attractive nurse, pushed the door open.  She’d been my night nurse over the last couple of days; a friendly sort, but one you knew you didn’t want to make mad or meet in a dark alley somewhere.

“Mr. Woodford,” she said, “get your things together.   The bus leaves in 10 minutes.”  She walked over and began checking my stats with her roll-away cart.  “This is what we like to see,” she said, “don’t want you staying too long with us.”

John walked around the room gathering what little I had brought into the room.  “No time like the present,” he said, picking up some magazines he’d brought earlier.

She’d barely had time to wrap the blood pressure cuff around my arm when the door swung open again and in came an orderly with a gurney in tow.  “Mr. Woodford, it’s time to get you back upstairs.”  He walked over and checked my arm band, asked me my name and birthday, and began lining up the gurney next to the bed.

“Wow, this is quick,” I commented.  “When you guys hit ‘go,’ you don’t mess around.”

“Need the room,” Carlotta replied.  “And since they have another upstairs for you, I want to make sure they don’t give it to someone else.”

I was so excited!  I would be able to see the sun again, look out a window onto the world at large, have my own bathroom — funny how the little things become so signficant at times like these.

As Jerome slid me onto the gurney, John stepped to the door.  “Room 347?” he asked Carlotta.

“That’s it!”  she said.  “Take good care of him, now.” 

As I rolled through the door, John stopped the gurney.  “I’ll go on up with your stuff,” he said.  “Meet you up there in  a few.”

I was out of Maximum Security and on my way to progress.  What was supposed to be a 5-day stay had grown to two weeks, with no mention of going home.  Still, the promise of real food, a private room and the joy of true peace and quiet made my newly rebuilt heart jump!

I thanked God as Jerome rode with me up the elevator, then momentarily wondered if the prayer had reached through the elevator walls, unlike cell phone conversations!  Oh well, didn’t matter — I knew the answer, and the answer was that God wasn’t done with me yet.

This will be a short post, and then I’ll be back on schedule very shortly.
____________________________________________________

While I was finishing off my dinner, the head nurse for the “medium-security” intensive care ward stopped by for a visit.

“We’re trying to get you a room as quickly as possible,” she said. “Both the cardiologist and the surgeon have realized you no longer need to be here.” She walked to the bedside and began straightening my sheets, fluffing my pillow and checking my bandages.

“I’m ready whenever you are,” I said, chuckling as well as I could, “and I’m sure there’s someone else out there (nodding with my head to the ward) that’s ready to leave.”

“You’re a pistol,” she laughed, adding, “I’m surprised they kept you quiet out there for so long.” She continued. “Can I get you anything before we take your vitals for the night?”

p style=”text-align: center;”>Click here now for FREE, informative information on heart disease and how you can prevent it!

Your information is secure. I will never sell, give away or share your information! You can unsubscribe at any time. I hate spam, too!

“Yes,” I answered. “One new york strip, a baked potato and a large, delicious romaine lettuce salad.” I smiled and winked.

“Why don’t we work on getting you back on the cardiac ward first?” she asked. “Then we’ll talk about the kind of food you can eat.”

“‘Tell you what,” she said. “I can get you some applesauce, and if you’re good, I bet I can even get you two.”

“It’s a deal,” I said. “I didn’t really want the steak, anyway.”  I paused.  “Seriously, how long before I’m back on real food?  This liquid diet isn’t doing me a bit of good.”

“You are starting to lose weight,” she said. “Has anyone said anything to you?”

“Not yet,” I replied, “but I’ll keep you posted.”

“I’ll be back with your snack,” she said. “‘Meantime, get some rest. You know how to find us if you need to.”

I settled back in the bed and flipped through the television stations. It was nice to be in a quiet room, finally, knowing I’d soon be back among regular (well, sort of) people. I also knew that’s when the physical therapy would begin, and I was ready.

Anything I could do to get me out of there was good. I didn’t know it would be so difficult.

As John and I sat there watching TV, suddenly the curtain was pulled back. Standing with a gurney to his side, and orderly smiled.

“Ready to take a trip?” he asked.

“Sure,” I said. “Where we goin’?”

The nurse who had been so helpful to me in the last few hours was standing behind the gurney. “I’ve got you a room,” she said, smiling. “It’s not permanent, but at least it will get you off the unit and into a more quiet space.”

John spoke up. “What’d you do?” he asked. “Bribe the hospital’s administrator?”

She smiled. “Well, not quite that much,” she responded, “and I may never work here again. But there was no point in someone being stuck in CCU for 5 days, when there obviously is no reason for them to be here.” She paused. “Let’s just say I know how to scream,” she chuckled.

The orderly moved to the side of the bed. “Can you help me detach all these wires?” he asked.

“Not a problem,” the nurse said. She looked at me. “When you get settled and I’m off my shift, I’ll come by to check on you.”

John moved out of the way while the other two disconnected the multitude of wires and cords. When it was done, the orderly rolled the gurney next to the bed. “I’m going to slide you onto the gurney; it may hurt a little.”

“That’s o.k.,” I answered. “I’m on my way outta here.”

Sure enough, as the orderly had warned, it was very painful sliding me onto the table. I was thankful it was over in a second.

“O.K., let’s get you out of here,” he added. “Ready to roll?”

“Take me away,” I said, adding a heart-felt thanks to the nurse. “Thank you for all you’ve done for me.”

“Not a problem,” she answered. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

I wasn’t moved very far, just around the corner from where I’d been and down a hallway. The new room was large, full of equipment, with a wall of glass on one side so the nurses station could see me.

“Look, John, there’s a TV,” I said, as they slid me onto the new bed, him following the orderly quickly.

“I hope this will be o.k. until we can get a room for you,” the orderly said. “Are you comfortable?”

“Oh, this is heaven, I said,” adding “I can’t believe I’m finally here.”

p style=”text-align: center;”>Click here now for FREE, informative information on heart disease and how you can prevent it!

Your information is secure. I will never sell, give away or share your information! You can unsubscribe at any time. I hate spam, too!

Just as the orderly rolled the gurney into the hallway, a nurse entered the room. “I’m Michelle, and I’ll be taking care of you until we can get you back onto the heart ward.

“You have TV, there’s a stereo system, and feel free to use the sink and commode whenever you want. This room is usually reserved for critical patients, but we’ll keep you here as long as we don’t need the room.”

She walked to the wall of glass and began closing the blinds. “A little privacy may be in order,” she said. “I’ll order you some food; should be here in about 30 minutes.”

I closed my eyes and relished in the silence. “Now maybe I can get some sleep,” I said, looking over at John.

“I won’t stay in here long,” he added. “I’m sure they’re watching you like a hawk.”

I lay my head back on the pillow. The next thing I knew, dinner had arrived and it was time to eat some real food. I gave thanks for the best meal I had enjoyed in a while, and also that I had escaped the ward which resembled a bus terminal.

On the third day, as any patient would, I became restless.  I tired of the constant interruption of the nurses, although they meant well, the stream of people in and out of the ward, and the restrictive visiting hours.  Though it was nice to see John, I was ready to see the outside — and there were no windows anywhere to be found.

On top of that, I had been in the  bed now going on the 4th day, without a shower, brushed teeth, clean hair, anything.  Admittedly, I wasn’t ready to run any races, but I didn’t plan on spending my retirement in that condition, either.

The surgeon dropped by later that day, while John was seated next to me.   “When you going to let him out of here?” John asked.  “He’s getting pretty tired of the noise, and he’s not able to get any rest.”

“I don’t know,” was all the doctor volunteered.  “It won’t be long.”  We chatted for a few minutes, him finally explaining what had happened to me in surgery, then turned and left.  His explanation was that because of the complications, they needed me to stay in the CCU for further observation.

“Think I’ll get back to the room tomorrow?” I asked.

“‘Seems no one’s concerned about it but you and me,” John replied.  “I’m going to make a couple phone calls when I leave and see what I can find out.”  Even the nurses had acquiesced that I needn’t be there.  I was clearly out of the danger zone, however, nothing seemed to be happening to get me back to a normal cardiac ward with a normal room.

I slept, and read, and slept some more, trying to make the hours pass more quickly.  But with the announcements going off, the lights constantly on, and the bed now feeling like a stone slab, I was definitely ready for some changes.

The fourth day was the same.  Nothing happened, no doctor visit, nurses knew nothing, and still I sat there.  Some of the equipment had been moved away, though I was still on a liquid diet, and dropping weight like a rock.  I was to lose 28 pounds in two weeks, I later found.  Though I probably needed to lose a few pounds, it was awfully quick, and instead of getting stronger, I found myself getting much weaker; even sitting up in the bed became a challenge.

By the fifth day, I’d had enough.  I awoke and observed a new nurse sitting at the station just across from me, one I’d never seen before.  I got her attention and called her over.

“I really need some help,” I said.

“What’s the problem?” she asked.

p style=”text-align: center;”>Click here now for FREE, informative information on heart disease and how you can prevent it!

Your information is secure. I will never sell, give away or share your information! You can unsubscribe at any time. I hate spam, too!

“I’ve been down here 5 days, with no toothbrush, bath, or exercise.  I don’t know what the hold-up is, but I really need to clean myself a little.  You see, I’m not at all used to this, and it’s hindering how I feel.  I’m getting weaker by the day, yet the doctors don’t seem to care that I don’t need to be here.  Is there anything you can do to help?”

“Well, I’m a contract nurse, so I’m not sure what I can do to get you out of here, but I can certainly help you get cleaned up.  I’ll be back in a few minutes.”  With that she crossed the room and started down the hallway.

It wasn’t long before John came in.  “Well, I think I found out why your stuck here,” he said.  “They don’t have a room for you.  Stupid state rules,” he added.  “They won’t let the hospitals expand, yet the city’s grown so fast, there are not nearly enough beds to accommodate the citizens in the nearby hospitals.”

“So what do we do?” I asked.  “I’m about to go stir-crazy in this heart ‘mall’”.

Just then, the nurse I had pleaded with earlier walked up.  “Mr. Woodford, here’s a toothbrush, toothpaste, and a cap to put on your head to “wash” your hair.  It’s the best I can do right now.  If you’ll wait a few minutes, I’ll be back to give you a sponge bath.  This is ridiculous.”  She disappeared again.

“You’ve been busy,” John said.  “You didn’t happen to request  a room, did you?”

“I sure did,” I smiled.  “I’m willing to do whatever it takes to get me out of here.”

I shut my eyes and laid my head back on the pillow.  The equipment around me and in me was so numerous there was no way I could move.  I thanked God that I’d made it this far.  Oddly, I thought, the pain wasn’t bad at all – amazing what living better through chemistry can do.

I felt a hand on my arm.  “Mr. Woodford,” LaTrena said, “I’m going off-duty now, but I’ll be back tomorrow.  Jason is going to be your nurse while I’m away,” she added.

I opened my eyes to see a young man in his twenties, strong and tall, standing with her.  “Hi, Daniel,” he said, “I wanted to introduce myself and let you know I’ll take great care of you – is there anything you need?”

“When do the tubes come out?” I asked.

“I can get that for you in just a bit,” he answered, “you’ll be able to shift in the bed a little easier.  Won’t be long until we sit you up.”

“You behave,” LaTrena chimed in, laughing.  She looked at Jason.  “He’s been a great patient – treat him right for me, o.k.?”

“My pleasure,” Jason replied.  LaTrena turned and walked away.  “Give me a few minutes to check on my other patients, and we’ll get those tubes out of you.”

It wasn’t long before John appeared over my head.  “You’re looking better,” I heard, coming out of a light sleep.

“They’re going to remove the tubes,” I said.  “I hope it doesn’t hurt.”  I closed my eyes again.

“You’re on so much stuff, you won’t feel it at all,” John replied.  “How’re you handling the noise?”

“What time is it?” I asked.  “How long have I been here?”

“This is your second day,” John replied.  “I understand you slept well most of the night.  That’s a great thing.”  He reached to adjust my pillows and pulled a blanket up around me as best he could.

“My how time flies when you’re having fun,” I said.  “I’m hungry.”

“They’ll start bringing you liquids, soon,” I heard.  “The bleeding and draining has stopped and you’re much more stable than you were yesterday.”

I heard the privacy curtain pull back.  “Hi,” I heard; it was Jason.  “I’m Jason,” he continued, introducing himself to John.  “He’s doing much better today; in fact, we’re about to pull the drainage tubes out of him.”

“So I hear,” John said.  He looked down at me.  “I’m going back to the waiting room and I’ll see you when they’ve finished,” he said.  “Remember, this is a good thing.”  He turned and disappeared through the curtain.

“O.K. Daniel,” Jason asked, “we’re going to pull the tubes out now.  You may feel a little sting as they come out.”  He laid a large sheet of gauze on my legs.  “I’m going to ask you to take a deep breath when I say ‘NOW,’ let it out slowly.”

p style=”text-align: center;”>Click here now for FREE, informative information on heart disease and how you can prevent it!

Your information is secure. I will never sell, give away or share your information! You can unsubscribe at any time. I hate spam, too!

I grasped the steel bed guards in anticipation.

“NOW,” I heard.  I took a big gulp of air and held on.  Jason took one pull and removed both tubes at once.  Oddly enough, I didn’t feel anything but a small sting.

“That was great,” he said, “you all right?”

“Nothing to it,” I answered.  “You’re good.”

“The meds have a lot to do with it,” he chuckled.  “But I’m glad I didn’t hurt you.”  He bundled up all the materials in the gauze and placed them on a table next to the bed.  “I’ll get rid of those shortly,” he added.  “Time to bandage you up.” 

He gently and carefully bandaged the points from which he had removed the tubes.  “These look good,” he said,” speaking more to himself than me.  He looked up.  “You’re a quick healer.”

“You ain’t seen nothin’ yet,” I managed to chuckle. 

He grabbed the gauze on the table.  “I’ll order you some food, now,” he added.  “You’ll be out of here in no time.” 

“Thanks, Jason,” I replied.  It looked like things were moving along well.

I opened my eyes, to see a nurse, LaTrena (and not just any nurse I might add), who unaware to me would become my angel over the next few days.

“There are tubes and wires in you, so try not to move.”  She touched my hand.  “You had us worried for awhile.”  She adjusted my pillow, covered me with a fresh blanket, and sat down in the chair next to me.

“I made it,” I managed to mumble from my now alleviating stupor.  I looked around to discover that there were machines and monitors all around me.

“Yes sir, you did” she responded.  “Don’t worry,” she said, “we’ll get rid of most of this equipment soon.  We need it to monitor your condition for a little while longer.”

“How did it go?” I asked.

“The surgery went fine,” she hesitated.  “You bled rather badly, and they had to open you again to stop the bleeding.  That’s why you see the hoses.”

p style=”text-align: center;”>Click here now for FREE, informative information on heart disease and how you can prevent it!

Your information is secure. I will never sell, give away or share your information! You can unsubscribe at any time. I hate spam, too!

I lifted the blanket to see two rather large hoses running from my chest.  There were also lots of wires coming out of me a little farther down on my stomach.  “I’m bionic,” I muttered.

LaTrena laughed.  “Well, at least they didn’t affect your sense of humor.”  She stood.  “Would you like some ice chips?”

“That would be nice,” I answered, “where am I?”

“You’re in the Cardiac Care Unit,” she replied.  “I’ll be right back.”  She stepped away and I lifted my head to see my surroundings.

There must have been a dozen patients, from one end of the room to the other, all in various stages of recovery.  Beds were everywhere, and nurses moved from one “stall” to another quickly.

I laid my head down and closed my eyes.  “God,” I prayed, “you got me through the surgery, now help through the next step.”

LaTrena returned with the ice.  She spooned a small bit into my mouth.  “Take it slow,” she said, “you’ve still got a lot of anesthesia in you.  We don’t want you getting sick.”

I sucked on the ice cube and felt the wonderful coolness hit my throat.  I began to realize how long it had been since I had food.  “What day is it?” I asked.

“You were out for quite a while,” she answered.  “Surgery was early yesterday.  Today is Tuesday.  It was touch and go there for awhile.”

“Where’s John?” I asked.  “Is he all right?”

“He’s fine,” she continued.  “We restrict the visiting hours in  the CCU, so he’s in the waiting room.  He’ll be in shortly.”

She gave me another ice chip.  “Are you in pain?” she asked.

“Considering they’ve just split me like a chicken, I’m doing o.k.  Morphine got anything to do with this?”

“We have you on several pain killers right now,” she replied.  “As you improve, we’ll begin taking them away one by one.”

Another ice chip.  Just to have a cool liquid in my mouth was heaven!  As I swallowed, I heard someone walking up.  “Hey, there.”  It was the familiar voice of John.  “I see he’s eating a little bit,” looking at the nurse.

“He’s very lucid,” LaTrena said.  “If you’re going to be here a few minutes, I’ll check my other patient while you visit.”

“Thanks,” John answered.  He took the cup of ice from her and she disappeared through the curtain at the end of the bed.

“You had us on pins and needles for awhile,” he said.  “I’m glad to see you’re back with us.”

“Well,” I chuckled, “I always told you it would never be boring.”  I tried to move my legs but they were bound to the bed.

“They don’t want you escaping,” John laughed.  “They’ll get rid of this stuff soon enough.  Right now you need to do exactly as they want.”  He reached behind me and fluffed my pillow.  “‘Surgeon says the surgery went fine, and after they got the hemorrhaging stopped, you’ve responded quickly.”

“Must be all that Ibuprofen I’ve been taking for months,” I answered.  “Probably thinned my blood out.”

“They won’t let me in but 10 minutes out of every hour, so you need to behave,” John continued.  “I’ll tell you, being in that waiting room all day is starting to get to me.”

“Why don’t you go home?” I asked.  “You can’t do anything here.”

“I’d rather be here; there’s nothing to do at home.” 

“LaTrena’s great,” I said.  “She’s watching me like a hawk.  My slightest ‘groan’ brings her running.”

“That’s what she’s paid to do,” John said, “but I do agree, she’s very sweet.  She’s keeping me in the loop with whatever is happening with you.  And by the way,” he added, “you’re going to be fine.”

“I got a miracle and an angel in two days,” I answered.  “”Guess God’s getting me ready for the next chapter.”

LaTrena walked over.  “Sorry guys, I gotta kick you out,” looking at John.  “You can come back in an hour; we may have the tubes out of him then.”

Since the heart cath results had found that the veins in my legs were obstructed, there would be a series of surgeries — one to replace the aortic valve and perform a double-bypass to alleviate any existing blockages in my heart, and the installation of a pacemaker to be used as a defbrillator in case my heart stopped.  The pacemaker would be inserted in a separate, “twilight” procedure after I recovered a bit from the others.

Over the ensuing months, I would be watched to see if the vein situation in my legs would correct itself; if not, then two more surgeries would be required down the road to improve my mobility.

The blessing in the financing arena had left me feeling that this all was for a positive reason; I had no idea of the seriousness of the surgery (besides, 1,000’s had this procedure daily), nor that a host of complications could occur before, during or after.

The day of the surgery arrived, and through my denial I was actually expressing a good mood and a “no-worries” attitude.  The procedures would take approximately 4 hours, and John would have someone with him while I was in the O.R.

Join now to get my complimentary series that will show you and your loved ones how to prevent this No. 1 killer in America! It’s easy, quick and information everyone needs to know.

Your information is safe. I will never sell, give away or disclose your information. You can unsubscribe at any time; I hate spam, too!

The trip to surgery was uneventful.  A nurse had brought me a tiny, tiny pill to calm me, the gurney was rolled in and the orderlies dragged me onto it. 

I was wheeled into the operating room, felt a small “pinch” in my right wrist, and remember nothing until I woke up.  I had been told that my heart and lungs would be put on artificial means for the surgery, but of course, had forgotten anything I had been told, especially when they said “you’ll be fine” after a couple of months.

All went well until the end of the surgery.  They had just wired my rib cage back together, when they discovered that I was hemorrhaging!  If left unabated, I would die right there.  I’m told that I had to be opened back up once again and the bleeding stopped.

At the other end, in the waiting room, John was working on his 6th hour of waiting.  He had repeatedly asked the “patient assistant” about my condition, and had been repeatedly been told that everything was “fine.”  Little did he, or any of us know, that I was struggling between making my transition or sticking around to find out the outcome of the rest of my life.

After another hour, give or take, I was transferred to the Cardiac Critical Care Unit, and John and my friend Kathryn were allowed to see me.

There were tubes and wires coming out of me everywhere, and according to my visitors, blood was draining in a constant stream into receptacles on both sides of the bed.

“He’s very critical,” the nurse commented.  “The next few hours will be crucial for his recovery.”

“What happened?” John pleaded.

“He hemorrhaged in surgery, and it took them almost an hour to get it stopped,” she said.  He lost a lot of blood, and I’ll be here with him for at least 24 hours to make sure he pulls through o.k.  Believe it or not,” she continued, “he’s doing much better now than when they brought him in.”

“Can I stay?” John asked.

“Probably best to go home and get some rest,” LaTrena answered.  “It’s not going to get easier for you from here on out; take the time while you can get it.”

So there I was; new parts in a heart that only a few days prior I had no idea needed them, beginning my recovery amid odds that no one had counted on, and not conscious enough to know about any of it.  All because I thought I had a respiratory infection!

“Believe me, you’re the exception, not the rule, especially this early,” he replied.  “Ready to go?”

“Yep, let’s get this over with.  I’ve got a busy day planned.”  He confirmed my identity and off I went – again.

As we got onto the elevator, I asked, “so why are they doing this EVERY day?”

“Gotta make sure the fluid’s not building up any more,” he answered.  But with all the medication they had begun to dump in my body, there was nothing that was going to build up.  We reached the radiology hallway, he locked my wheels, and turned to go.  “May take me a little longer today,” he said, “we’re short-handed.”

p style=”text-align: center;”>Click here now for FREE, informative information on heart disease and how you can prevent it!

Your information is secure. I will never sell, give away or share your information! You can unsubscribe at any time. I hate spam, too!

I had to learn to bring a book with me.  Sure enough, that day’s little adventure would take almost an hour before I even had the x-rays taken.  It’s not like my dance card was full; still, sitting in a basement hallway with next-to-nothing on at 6 a.m. is not my idea of a good time.

Upon arriving back to the room, I found my breakfast waiting on me.  Powdered eggs, some toast, black coffee and fresh fruit.  It wasn’t what I was used to, but it would do.  I knew I had started losing weight; how much, I didn’t know.  It would only take two weeks for me to lose 30 pounds (ah, that diabetic diet!), including the fluid that had made believe I was just getting fat.

Belinda came in around 11.  “You feeling all right, today?” she asked.

“I’m a little sore from yeserday’s exploration,” I replied, “but really ready to get this over with.”

“I don’t think they’re going to let you out of here any time soon,” she said.  “You DO realize how sick you are, don’t you?”

“I’m beginning to,” I answered.  “Thank God John has been through this before with his mom, and already knows the drill, although quite frankly, he’s not telling me a lot.”

“‘Probably best to keep it a surprise,” she laughed.  “The less you know right now, the better.”

“Speak of the devil,” I said.  The door opened and John came in with some mail and more material to read.

“This is from Jennifer,” he said, “she said she couldn’t get here, she’d send a reminder to you anyway.  She’ll be visiting on Sunday after church.”  I looked through the bag at the magazines, and oddly, a box of Bazooka bubble gum.

“What’s the gum for?” I asked.

“She said that would keep you from going crazy,” he replied, “although I told her it was  a little late for that.  Oh, by the way.  I have some more good news.”

Belinda spoke up.  “You need me to step outside while you guys talk?” she asked.

“No, stay here,” he motioned.  “I’ve so far talked to the cardiologist, the anesthiologist and the surgeon, and they’re all reducing their fees.”  He paused.  “I know we’re going to be good, now.”

“That’s wonderful!” I exclaimed.  “I don’t know how you’re doing this, but I know I couldn’t do it without you.”

“What most people don’t know,” he continued, “is that this is available to everybody.  If you don’t have coverage, you can negotiate the fees up front; most physicians will at least reduce their charges, especially with so many people without health insurance.”

“Somebody needs to advertise that,” Belinda quipped.  “Something’s got to be done.”

So there we were, the Three Musketeers, waiting on the next chapter of this great adventure.  Two days earlier I had been stressed and worried sick that the end was near – now I could see, clearly, that it really was a new beginning.

I gave him my arm.  “It’s me,” I said, adding “can I brush my teeth first?”

“Sure,” he responded, “I’ll wait in the hall.”  He turned to leave.

“You don’t have to go,” I said.  “This’ll only take a minute.”

I finished at the sink and plopped into the chair.  “Ready to go – let’s hit it.”  He rolled me into the hall, downstairs, and locked the wheels.  “I’ll be back for you shortly,” he said, walking away from me.

The x-ray went well; I was back in the room within 30 minutes.  As I started my morning clean-up, the phone rang.  It was John.

“Hey, there, how’re you doing this morning?”

“I didn’t sleep much, but I’m fine,” I said.  “I have no idea what’s on the agenda today.”

“Well, before you get too busy, I’m coming in and and I want you to do me a favor,” he said, a little hesitation in his voice.

“What’s that?”

“I’m going to be bringing a bunch of your checks with me, and I want you to sign them.”

I laughed.  “Sure, I’ll sign them, but there’s nothing in the account, so I wouldn’t plan a trip to the Bahamas.”

“It’s not for that, and I can’t explain it to you now.  Just trust me.  I’m not going to be there much today, but I’ll explain everything when I get back sometime this afternoon.”

“O.K.,” I said.  “If I have to leave the room, I’ll give you a call and let you know.”

Sure enough, it hadn’t been a half hour before the cardiologist came bouncing in.  “I’ve scheduled a heart catherization for 1:00 today, so we can find out what’s going on with you and how blocked your system is,” he explained.  “You won’t be asleep; we’ll have you in ‘twilight’ for most of the procedure.”

“I know this is a stupid question, but how much will it hurt?” I asked, sounding like an 8 year old.

“You’ll probably be sore for a couple of days,” he replied.  “I’ll go in through the groin area and move all the way up to your heart to check things out.  You’ll be back in the room in no time.”  He checked my breathing and walked to the door.  “Don’t worry, you’re going to be fine,” he assured me.

Another nurse came in to prep me and ready me for the cath.  “‘Ever had one of these before?” she asked, trying to establish some conversation.

p style=”text-align: center;”>Click here now for FREE, informative information on heart disease and how you can prevent it!

Your information is secure. I will never sell, give away or share your information! You can unsubscribe at any time. I hate spam, too!

“Nope,” I said, “this is all new to me.”  She quickly finished up, and it wasn’t long before I was on a gurney heading to cardiac surgery.  I don’t recall any pain throughout the procedure, though the doctor had problems seeing all he needed.  Apparently, the veins in my legs were also clogged, and he had found it necessary to try one leg, then the other, and finally my wrist to complete the cath.  I had bandages all over me by the time I reached the room.

John was waiting on me.  “Everything go o.k.?” he asked.  He helped me put some sweats on and onto the bed.  “I’ve got great news,” he said, and then he started to cry.

“What’s going on?” I asked.  “I’m o.k.”  I paused.  “Don’t worry about me.  They haven’t even started yet.

“No, it’s not that,” he stumbled.   He paused.  “As you know, the hospital has a department for Patient Services.  I went to see them today to ask for help.”  Another pause.  “They’re going to look at your situation, and there’s a chance they may write-off the whole hospital bill.”

Then I started crying.  “That’s wonderful!” I shouted. 

He continued.  “Well, even if they don’t write off the whole thing, it will at least give you a lower bill.”  He walked to the window.  “And another thing,” he continued.  “I’ve been to each doctor’s office and negotiated their fees.  Apparently with the economy the way it is, they’re seeing a lot of this.”  He walked back to the bed and hugged me.  “See there?  We’ll find a way, somehow.  Oh, by the way,” he remembered, “I called Belinda and asked her to come tomorrow, when I thought you’d be feeling better.”

“I can’t believe what you’ve told me,” I said.  “I’m on Cloud 9 after that news.”