Men (and Women) of An Uncertain Age

Yesterday, in the wee hours of the morning, Dave and I drove into town.  It was still very dark.  With no street lights in our neighborhood, we had only the light of our headlights to guide us to the highway.  At the very last bend in the road, a doe and two young fawns stood in the shadows of the shoulder; a peaceful reminder of God’s presence in our lives on our early morning drive. We rode quietly through the dark, there were no words to say, only silent prayers.

For the past several weeks, since our day in the emergency room before Maggie and Jan’s wedding, Dave has been seeing a cardiologist almost weekly; being wired and monitored, X-rayed and trotted on a treadmill to more clearly determine the source of his chest pain. It was finally decided that there was an improper firing in the left ventricle of his heart most likely caused by poor blood flow. Yesterday morning we drove to Martha Jefferson Hospital, the “most beautiful hospital in America” for a heart catheterization and possible implanting of stents to correct the problem.

Although this procedure is routine to the doctors and staff at the hospital, wires threaded through arteries and up to the heart are definitely not routine for Dave and me. Friday morning we had an appointment with the head catheterization nurse to go over the procedure and answer any questions we might have. Mel provided a blow-by-blow, step-by-step explanation of what would happen the day of the “cath” and even let us handle some of the tools the surgeon would use. I think Dave entered the “TMI” zone a bit and left a little more uneasy than we arrived.  We spent the weekend quietly contemplating “what ifs” and praying.

We’ve held this information pretty quiet since it started, sharing only on a “need to know basis”. It’s been a lot for us to take in. Dave is otherwise in really good health; we eat well and get regular exercise. But, apparently, no matter how young we feel or look, the truth is that we are indeed getting older and our bodies are feeling it. Which is what brought us to Martha Jefferson Hospital so early in the morning.

Not long after we checked in with the information station, a nurse came out and called Dave’s name. I went back with him for a few moments as the prep began but soon excused myself and left him in their hands. My prep was over; I had come armed with my I Pad, knitting and a Sudoku book. All that was left for me was wait and pray.

Fortunately, I wasn’t alone. Last week my friend Carol called and asked if I’d like her to sit with me. My first thought was to politely decline her generous offer; I could handle it on my own. Then I thought, what if something goes wrong, would I want to handle that alone? Definitely not. I accepted Carol’s offer and true to her word, she arrived not long after Dave went in for his procedure.

We didn’t have long to wait. In less than an hour, an alert and smiling Dave was wheeled out of the treatment area and past the table where we were sitting. He saw Carol first. “Hi Carol!” he said. We were both surprised and relieved to see him so soon and looking so good. Carol gave me a hug goodbye and I followed Dave and his entourage down the corridor.

Not long after settling into the room, his surgeon arrived.  Using the back of piece of paper on the bedside table,  he drew a diagram of Dave’s heart and showed us where the blockages were.  He implanted two stents in Dave’s Right Coronary Artery to improve blood flow to the heart. There were two smaller vessels that were completely blocked but his body had taken action by creating new blood vessels to keep blood flowing into the left side of his heart. Isn’t that amazing?  With proper diet and exercise as well as medication, he said Dave could return to normal activities very soon.

The rest of yesterday was pretty unremarkable. As hospitals go, Martha Jefferson in a gem. All the rooms are private and the accommodations include pull-out beds so that family members can stay if they choose. I had planned on staying but Dave was doing so well and I felt he was in good hands so I decided to come home and sleep in my own bed. After all, no one gets a good night’s sleep in the hospital.  So shortly after dinner, I headed home to my girls.

When I arrived this morning, Dave was chomping on the bit to be released. It was only a couple of hours, but it seemed like an eternity until his cardiologist stopped by to give him his marching orders. In the meantime, we walked the halls and watched reruns of “The Dick VanDyke Show” and “I Love Lucy” on TV Land. Eventually she came and gave him the green light.  After grabbing a quick-lunch in the cafeteria, we were on the way home.

Here at home little seems to have changed in our lives. The cats are still here, the kitchen still needs tidying and the mail was waiting in the box at the end of the drive. The place hasn’t changed, but we have been changed in a fundamental way. No longer can we claim our youth by our reflections in the mirror. We are certainly aging and we’ve been reminded in a tangible way that out lives are finite.  It is a bitter pill to swallow, and not one that most of us willingly embrace.  Oh yeah, getting older is great when you’re waiting to get your driver’s license, buy your first legal drink or go off to college but add a few decades of age onto that same person and it’s not so much fun anymore.  The life milestones we’re waiting for are not as much fun and no so certain.

I don’t mean to sound morbid.  I’m not really going to make many changes in my life other than to take a little better care of the machinery that is my body.  If anything, I want to live each day more fully.  I don’t necessarily want to do more, but instead be more aware of what I am doing, and who I’m doing it with.  As Ferris Bueller said, “Life comes at you pretty fast.  If you’re not careful, you could miss it.”  And I don’t want to miss any of it!