Calming down, hearts everywhere

I had a good chat with the GP today. (How often do you hear that said?) As well as sorting out some of the practicalities of the wheelbarrows-full of meds I’ll be getting, he reassured me that
- I’m not in imminent danger of cardiac arrest
- I should be able to endure the occasional burst of adrenaline
- Moderate exercise is a good thing.
In other words, I don’t need to try and cocoon myself in cotton wool.

So I’m feeling reassured, at least for now. I expect this will be a bit of a rollercoaster but never mind.

One thing I’ve noticed is, being attuned to anything heart-related at the moment, how widespread ‘hearts’ are. I don’t just mean everyone has one, but that pictures of hearts, metaphors about hearts, and general heartiness are everywhere. Avoiding them would be impossible. Similarly, it seems that all TV programmes, films and books involve scenes in hospitals. There’s no escaping this stuff.

Bricking

Hmm, not so good now. Underlying dread is making me feel weird and sometimes panicky, despite my head knowing this should all be OK. Prospect of not being at work is curiously alarming – like losing an identity, and losing yet more control. I guess a lot of this is about letting go, and letting others do what’s best for me.

Stuff that helps:
Facing up to it and reading factual accounts of successful treatment
Relaxation tape (actually it’s not a tape, showing my age there – MP3 download to be precise)
Reiki – a friend did this at work and it was fab

Acclimatising

Second day after the angiogram. Puncture wound not sore at all now. Surprisingly, no bruising – that’s how gentle it can be. Went shopping with no ill effects. Feeling less scared – hopefully adapting to the whole scenario. Trying to think of it as a routine fix, helped by the many accounts of people who have had a bypass.

Wrote a poem. Drank tea. Felt like I was getting my life back.

Angiogram day

The angiogram process took from 11-6, plus travel and parking time. I have nothing but praise for the nurses and doctor. Even for a squeamish patient like me, it was bearable – particularly as Jennie could stay with me most of the time.

They brought in everyone they were doing and settled us all down. A lot of waiting as with many health things. Progressively, I was eased into the process, a file with my bed-number filling with information as the day wore on. My turn came to go into the treatment room. I was surprised by how large the room was. They put plastic covers over the big cameras, like people so proud of their new suite that they leave it wrapped in cellophane. Cold gel slathered on my ‘Brazilian’ area. Local anaesthetic and some prodding around. Random bits of surroundings: the typefaces on notices, the Diazepam-enhanced muzak which seemed to be the same cover-version band, perhaps some kind of package deal performing-rights copyright deal saving the NHS valuable pennies: ‘I get high with a little help from my friends’: indeed. The cameras moved around, alien-abduction style. Pictures were taken. It took 30 minutes.

Then the kind Geordie doctor gave me the initial result. Artery ‘disease’ too diffuse to treat with angioplasty or stents. I will need a bypass. ‘Don’t worry, we can fix this!’

[Swear words]

Two hours recovery time. Brittle humour. Chicken sandwich, sweet tea like the taste of mercy itself. The weirdness of having a lump of collagen in my groin. Hearing about the next steps: consult with surgeon, probably done in 6-8 weeks.

So there we have it. Not what I was expecting. I’ll be honest with you, I’ve cried my ************* eyes out, cursed God and sneered at the information leaflets. But I’ll get through it.

Hearty metaphors

At the moment, I wake up in the morning and after a minute or so think ‘Oh, I have angina.’ It’s a bit like realising that I’m on holiday, or living in a new city, only not as positive. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life just thinking I have a disease – I don’t want an ‘angina story’ to over-write any other stories. On the other hand I’ll need to pay attention to it, basically forever, so I need some way of thinking about this stuff that is neither a doom-laden victim script or a Pollyannaish ‘what a great gift I have been given’ form of denial.

Looking tentatively at books and websites about heart health, I have seen a lot of pictures of smiling sixty-something couples hugging on beaches. The guy always looks like Ronnie Biggs at the height of his exile, with an open-necked shirt revealing a manly chest covered in white hairs. ‘Heart disease? We’re loving it! Let’s book another Saga holiday…’ This doesn’t exactly speak to my condition – and I would suggest misrepresents the demographic somewhat, now that folks in heart-disease decades are just as likely to be, say, attending Glastonbury, or turning up for work.

Perhaps I need something with a bit more romance to it? I occasionally get pains in my shoulder from the fragment of Nazgul knife left in me at the battle on Weathertop; sometimes walking is heavy going as I carry the Ring to Mount Doom… Yes, I could be Frodo Baggins. But, hero that he is, Frodo gets a bit mopy after the first book and all that stuff about going to the Grey Havens brings us back into Saga holiday territory.

So what then? Maybe there isn’t one story for this. Life involves playing many different roles. So my daily practice could be about gently reminding myself that I need to do a bundle of heart-friendly things, not because being an ‘angina patient’ is my defining identity, but because it makes sense to support my arteries so that they can support everything else I want to do and be. I’m in the process of figuring out what that ‘bundle of heart-friendly things’ might be, but it’s shaping up as

Relaxing
Not something I’m good at, but rather than ‘avoid stress’ (which names ‘stress’ as a monster from which to flee, stressfully), letting in some moments to let go, get distance within each day is going to be vital I think. This could include meditation, making time to read but also plain old doing nothing.

Eating well
I’m sure a good diet can be fun. Jen has knocked up some delicious grub in the past few days and I’ll be having a go soon. Again I’d rather think I’m choosing to eat healthy stuff rather than avoiding fat and bad cholesterol.

Exercising
I need help figuring this one out as it is exercise that brings on the symptoms. But clearly I have to exercise more not less so finding a way will be a necessity.

Big stuff
Not sure what to call this, but getting into the flow of creating something, or doing a bit of a big project like my walk to Brighton, feels so good that it must be right. Purposeful action, outside the arena of paid work, could be what I’m talking about? This isn’t an every-day thing but just to remember that there’s some cool big stuff to do (eg get the map out and plan the next route) is restorative.

Dark chocolate taste test

Apparently dark chocolate – the very dark kind that’s nearly all cocoa – is full of heart-helping goodness. So much so that tiny amounts might actually be good for you (but don’t take my word for it.) With this in mind I bought a stack of bars and tried a little corner of each.

Here’s what I found:

Seeds of Change Organic Dark Chocolate – 70% cocoa
Nice, but a bit syrupy tasting

Divine 70% Dark Chocolate
Creamy, slightly vanilla aftertaste

Green & Black’s 70%
Not at all bad, nice and crunchy like a classy chocolate should be

Green & Blacks Organic Dark Chocolate – 85% cocoa
Whoa – this one is all about the cocoa. Challenging but rewarding, like a good malt whisky.

They’re all pretty good, I might give Seeds of Change a miss but seek out G&B. They do some cute little bars as well.

This speaks for itself

Thanks A x

Interlude

Still a couple of days to go to angiogram. Am less stressed about the test itself, based on helpful accounts from people who have had them, but the multiple-choice answers are a bit daunting: what will they say I have wrong or need to do next? I feel tired and have a floaty kind of anxiety-undercurrent. Some of this may be the meds, for instance the betablocker may take a bit of getting used to. And/or the emotional backwash from last week’s diagnosis. There’s also a kind of ‘hypervigilance’, mentally scanning for any minor discomfort that could be part of ‘the problem’. I’m trying to be Heimdall guarding a rainbow bridge to the Asgard of my own body…

…but I can’t, so it would be better to relax into the process and let go.

Bring on the test so I know what I’m dealing with – then I reckon I’ll be calmer.

The groaning board

Although I haven’t had the final bit of my diagnosis yet, it’s definite that I have angina. Some blood was taken last week and there will be a cholesterol test. It seems unlikely that the doc will say I have such miraculously low cholesterol that I should go on a steak-eating binge. So dietary change is in order. To the shops!

I always feel as if I haven’t got enough time so work-food has to be quick. OK so I need to slow down too, but even so I won’t have time, equipment or inclination to cook a complex gourmet meal.

Large amounts of fruit and veg are advisable, so I’ve been making up a mega salad and scooping some up each day to take to work. I figure that covering it in lemon juice will keep it for a few days in the fridge. Baked spuds are easy to do in the office murkywave. Oily fish is recommended so little tins of sardines etc. are going to the office which will soon look like a survivalist’s bunker, full of canned goods. Also have plenty of spices to add flavour – this isn’t a penance, it’s a banquet! (Today being Mardi Gras – low-fat version )

I’ll be saving money, too. And it’s another form of taking control and not being a ‘sufferer’.

This drug is dynamite

Another new experience – today I tried my GTN spray for the first time. This stuff is supposed to help the heart and by doing so relieve angina symptoms. In my case it worked – after a quick blast under the tongue I walked home feeling very chipper. Compared to recent weeks I was like a mountain goat…

So what is GTN? According to Wikipedia, ‘Glyceryl trinitrate (GTN) is an alternate name for the chemical nitroglycerin’. Yep, nitroglycerin, the active ingredient of dynamite! Visions of hard-bitten men driving their explosive cargo over mountain passes, like Stanley Baker in Hell Drivers…

I’m not sure how it works but it certainly perked me up – like a sudden Ramones song in the middle of a weary afternoon playlist.