Day: August 13, 2014

A turning point in the recovery process, today I met the doctor who will be an integral part of my life for awhile, he is from Connecticut via New York City, he is intelligent, honest, warm, funny. I liked him right away. In a different world, in a different context, we might have been friends. Dr. Steven Anisman is my cardiologist, Maria and I went to meet  him and formally begin our doctor patient relationship, post-surgery, when the dust clears. He works in Bennington, Vermont. All of my doctors are there now, their offices are all within a half-mile of one another.

So this, I think, is the way it works. The surgeons and hospital nurses save your life, patch up your heart, slap you on the back and send you on your way, much cheerful praise offered about grit, determination, healing. They had me thinking I was Superman, made of steel. The cardiologist is lying in wait, he has a different story. He or she has a different role, to keep me alive for the long haul and introduce unsuspecting me to some of the realities of life after open heart surgery. I thought it was all pretty much over, my several miles a day would take care of things.

Dr. Anisman was here to tell me some truths I did not wish to hear. It is not just about over, of course,  it is just beginning. Surgery is about staying alive. Recovery is about living.

The first thing I learned that I did not know and was shocked to learn is that I had a heart attack right in the first hospital I went to, Glens Falls Hospital, in the emergency room. I vaguely remember some talk of my having had an “incident,” but no one had mentioned this to me before. There was some damage to my heart, something else I didn’t know, or perhaps didn’t want to hear. It was not a major heart attack, but said, Dr. Anisan, it was definitely a heart attack. It could always happen again, he said, take it seriously.

I told the doctor I didn’t want to be on 80 mg of Lipitor, I don’t like what I have heard about stamins,  I had asked my previous doctor to lower the dose to 40 milligrams. Dr. Anisan said no, it would be 80 milligrams every day, he was adamant about it. People who took Lipitor with heart trouble lived a lot longer than people who did not, he said. I told him I did not want to do cardiac rehab, a three-month program of exercise and nutrition meant to help open heart surgery patients transition to a healthy recovery and hopefully, a long life. I said I did not think I needed it.

He said I did need it. He said there are two things he will fight to the end for his patients to do – take statins faithfully and go to cardiac rehab.

We went back and forth. I can’t take that time, I said, I have to write, I have to work, I can’t go to rehab three times a week to learn things I already know – how to exercise, what to eat. I don’t want this to be my life. This, he said, is literally your life.

You can do rehab, he said, and I want you to, they have afternoon sessions, you can fit it in. There are valuable things for you to learn in rehab, he said,  and if I was to be his patient he wanted me to go. It was a moment, I think it defined our relationship.

He was insistent. Nobody wanted to go but everybody wanted to stay, he said. Rehab patients did better and lived longer than others. How much longer?, I asked. Six months? A year? He said he didn’t know, he wanted me to go. I am going back next Tuesday to take some more tests to see if I qualify for the program. He said he was certain I would qualify, I looked strong.

Dr. Anisman said I was doing beautifully, my surgical wounds were healing well, my heart was strong, my color good, my EKG great. My fluid issues were quite normal, he said, it would be a couple of months before my heart would be back to normal, pumping properly. He said it was okay to drive short distances and use my camera, but  not to lift, push or pull  things for several more months, he was quite clear about that.

The heart heals a lot faster than the sternum and if I lifted the wrong thing, my chest could break open, it was still held together by wires and plates. Diabetics often heal more slowly than others, he said. If the sternum broke open, he said, that  would be a nightmare and a tragedy.  I got that. He said we must all be certain to make sure that did not happen.

I was not out of the woods yet because I was walking a few miles every day, he was pleased with that news but not overly impressed.  I enjoyed Dr. Anisman, we talked about Woody Allen, movies, books, my sex life, my family history, the things I ate, my moods and feelings. He is definitely someone I can and would talk to, and easily. Although he said some things I did not wish to hear, that is his job, and they were things I needed to hear and consider. I think I am understanding the consequences of not listening.

So we are living the surgical phase behind – the emergency, the ambulances, operating room, the drama and excitement, the flowers and visitors.  I got a good dose of reality and truth today, having this surgery does change one’s life, and for good. I will need to take particular care of my body. Dr. Anisman said walking is the very best thing I can do for my heart, so we were definitely on the same page there. Maria and I went over our eating with him, and he said we were right on target – fruit, vegetables, nuts and fish. That’s pretty much where we are. Maria liked him as much as I did.

I will absorb all of this new information and consider it and digest it. I can no longer take my body or my heart or my health for granted, if I wish them to be healthy for me and for Maria, some things will have to change. That was the news from my cardiologist. I am happy to have this man as a doctor, I feel I am in capable and honest hands. The truth will make you freer than anything, and now I think I truly know it.

When I lived in New York City, I used to see woman feeding the pigeons all of the time, but they are gone. For some reason, people don’t seem to want to feed the pigeons any more, I’m not sure why. In Central Park, though I found the pigeon man, he sits on a bench, his backpack filled with bread crumbs and meal,and the pigeons gather to sit on his hand and feed. In Central Park,pigeons probably can find plenty to eat, but it is still touching to see this connection between a human being and a pigeon. I guess he is the keeper of the flame. Foreign tourists lined up (me too) to photograph him.

At night, the Times Square Tickets Booth – where thousands of people line up for cheaper show tickets – is teeming with tourists and visitors. They sit in these bleachers looking out at the mad scene that is Times Square and eating pretzels and hot dogs and talking selfies and shots of the scene around them. At dawn, a single cleaner works the rows one by one, scraping off the gum and cleaning up the trash left behind.

Red has two primary gears – working and going to work. He is always ready to go through that gate, his ears back, head lowered, body poised to run and outrun. This is how I like to start my work every day, in the same way, with this hope and eagerness and energy.  Usually, Simon is right at the gate when I opened it and Red charges right through his legs when I say “away.”