My mountain travel days are on hold as I am recovering from open heart surgery. It has been known for many years that I would need to have my Aortic valve repaired at some point in my life but up until this year, I have had no symptoms so no need for intervention (or so I thought). As a matter of fact, I never really realized that I was having any symptoms until I met with my Cardiologist on April 29, 2011. He observed that the gradient of pressure behind my valve was a whopping 88 mm/hg which is considered extremely serious. He asked if I had been having any symptoms e.g. shortness of breath, chest pains, dread... you know, heart attack symptoms and at first I said 'no'. But then I started thinking.... Over the last six months I had noticed that I was slowing down a lot. Not only that, my level of energy and ambition was really low. I thought I was getting older or maybe in worse shape than I thought I was (despite working out five days a week, skiing nearly nearly every week, and carrying a huge amount of large rocks to build a retaining wall daily through out February and March). I thought the discomfort in my chest was pulled muscles and I also had an explanation for every other symptom.
What really got me thinking was a ski trip at the end of March to attempt to climb Mount Columbia (on the Columbia Icefields). This was a four day trip with a couple of friends who I have known since living Jasper. At 7 am we started up the Saskatchewan Glacier, due to poor weather, carrying our packs and slogging around on skis. I was having a very hard time once we started gaining elevation. I was having a hard time keeping up, my chest was heaving I was so short of breath. I remember a constant tightness across my chest, discomfort in my arms, and a feeling of absolute dread that I'll never forget. All I wanted to do was cry, cry and turn around and go home. I thought that I was out classed by my younger travel companions, but deep down inside I wondered if something else was really wrong. By 3:30 pm I was screwed, luckily for me bad weather blew in and we had near zero visibility. We were just at the ramp on the glacier where we would ascend onto the icefield. It was decided that we would dig in and set up a camp. I was so wasted, I hardly dig, or even eat any of the snack I had. My friends dug snow while I sat there in complete turmoil.
That evening while I cooked dinner (which they insisted on so that my pack would be lighter) we discussed what I was feeling. I said that something was not right, but it was agreed that I was probably a little out of shape as they had skied more than me that winter (three of the four worked ski patrol) and that I was getting old (two of them were in their early 20's - I am only 35!). I remember waking up the next day and not wanting to continue, I felt like a complete shit who was ruining the trip for everyone else. While we were debating what the weather was going to do (and cooking breakfast) another winter storm blew in... over night and that day we received somewhere between 50 and 100 cm of snow... we weren't moving. The storm persisted so we built a snow cave, I started feeling better (thought maybe it was dehydration!). The weather kept us pinned there until we had a window on day three and we thought it best to leave then rather than risk being stuck there and why spend another night in the cold just to go home the next day. The ski out was fun because it was mostly downhill. Near the end of the ski was an uphill section; again, I had a hard time, chest tightness, shortness of breath, but I just passed it off as all the other reasons. As a result, the next day when I drove back to Lillooet, I had my tail between my legs and felt pretty shameful about my performance... I thought I had better start working out harder... the problem was I couldn't.
I relayed this story to my Cardiologist who said the weather may have saved my life on that trip. Attempting the 3700m + peak might have lead to a very serious situation in a very remote place or worse my death. Suddenly, everything started making sense, I was showing symptoms. I was scheduled for an Angiogram in Vancouver for May 16. I knew that I would probably have to go for surgery soon afterwards, so it was a race to get some work done. I finished the rock wall, build a side and back deck, excavated the garden and built raised vegetable beds... probably too much.
May 11, 2011 I couldn't even walk the dogs on a level trail without feeling a tightness in my chest, and that feeling of dread - again. The feeling continued right through into work, I didn't make it through the day. At 12 noon I checked myself into the Emergency department. Within two days (Friday) I was ambulanced to Vancouver General Hospital undergoing an emergemcy angiogram. Some people wait months for this proceedure, but it seems that I needed surgery very quickly as things were going sour for me at an alarming rate. Mortality was staring me in the face and if I wasn't at Death's door step, I was certainly on the sidewalk in front of his home. Surgery to repair my valve was scheduled in two days - Monday, May 16, 2011 - 8 am.
The surgery had some complications. My aorta was herniated due to the pressure of the blood coming through my stenoic valve, an annherism was forming. As a result both my valve and my ascending aorta had to be replaced. My old valve (replaced with a bovine valve) was one of the most heavily calcified valves my surgeon had ever removed (he retires in a year!). As a result, two days after the surgery, I had complete heart block. My heart would not beat properly without the aid of a pacemaker. A pacemaker was implanted (while I was still awake!) on May 23, 2011. I was released the following Thursday.
It is now nearly six weeks since my sternum was cracked, and I am feeling quite good. Both my cardiologist and my family physician believe I am healing 'remarkable fast' which is not fast enough for me! At this time I cannot carry anything over 10 lbs, I have lost much of my muscle and still weight 20 lbs less than what I started with. I still feel like a shadow of myself, but I feel great improvements every week. I have been off the nasty oxycodon's for a week now and very glad for it, although I am a grouchy bastard and feel really bad for Tracey who has to endure this. Strangely though she says I've been a grouchy bastard since the sergury, although due to the medication I remeber little of the first five weeks of recovery and feel she must be making this up. Tracey has taken very good care of me and I owe her so much once I am recovered. As for my recovery, I am expected to be 100% withing 3 months of surgery and already iIknow I will be stronger than I've ever been. Already I am climbing hills with more ease than I have in three years! Now that I look back on past events, I can see that I have been showing symptoms for probably three years or so. My first clue to this was the size of my lungs (pre-operation x-ray). Due to my body over compensating all this time, my lungs would not fit on one x-ray image! Truely though, I'm just happy to the be able to be healthier than ever, and more importantly, alive. Life has a new meaning for me now and a different perspective on life, family and friends is just comming to realization. I love you Tracey, thank you for standing by me through it all.
