My Current Condition, 7 Weeks Post Op

After seven weeks I can truly say you wouldn't know from looking at me that I had open heart surgery. I walk straight, stretch often, drive myself to therapy where I get on the stationary bike, and I can do small tasks like vacuum and brush the horse lightly. I do not have the stamina that I will one day have after months of therapy and building myself up to where I was prior to the open heart procedure, but the scar has flattened and still fades giving me hope. Another thing improving is that I have tapered down to my final dose of Prednisone for the next week, and then I will only have two weeks left of the side effects from that medication. It caused major emotional setbacks, weight gain, and worsened Lyme and coinfection symptoms. Of course, it is difficult to tell what is a worsened Lyme symptom with the steroids and no treatment, or what is medication side effects. What I know for sure is I can't even list how many symptoms have swamped me again. The major problems I struggle with now are massive depression and anxiety (enough that even my Lyme specialist changed me from Ativan to Klonipin at my check up appointment yesterday), nausea, joint and muscle pain that can leave me unable to move, muscle spasms, light sensitivity and even blurred vision, extreme short term memory loss, hearing problems, dizziness and fatigue, and concentration loss. I feel a lot of these symptoms like I had struggled with for the last few years when the Lyme and it's coinfections were worsened. My Lyme specialist heard me out and ordered antibiotics for me to take if I end up needing them in June even though my insurance will be ending them. This makes it so that I have them before the insurance runs out, in preparation for the inevitable evil. He also ordered a slue of blood tests to rule out any other problems that we could be missing by blaming everything on Lyme for the past few years. I want to make sure there is not something that is being missed, keeping me from getting better. I feel at the end of my rope, and the stress is affecting my friendships and general outlook on life. I just wish I could curl up in a ball and disappear most of the time. Even when some things look promising, like a generous donation from a loving angel to help repair my car, I still find myself questioning why I am in such a predicament. I struggle with keeping optimistic when everything around me seems to be collapsing. What will I do if something goes wrong with my heart recovery after my insurance is gone? Why has someone like me been stomped on by the system that was made to help people like me? Why does no program have the ability to help me, and when will things start looking up? How come no medicine ever works enough to make me cured, and will I ever be cured? These questions circle my brain day in and out, and I feel as if nobody could understand the emotional pain I'm in. I find myself not wanting to talk to anybody when the end of the day comes, and I just want to hide in my bed. When the sun rises I struggle to want to move from bed to head to rehab, where I will be walking and biking and questioning how I ever enjoyed exercise. I used to feel empowered and strong trying to exercise alongside people at the gym, and encouraged to improve myself. I can't help but struggle with this depression and feel so alone and so beaten. I know I have the best support system in the world, with a man that I love, and my mother's overflowing support. I wish that could erase any negative thoughts or feelings I have, but I find myself feeling empty and distant. I want to be quiet and observant when in a public environment, instead of outgoing and involved like usual. I hope this will pass, and I go into my disability determination appointment tomorrow knowing that he will see into this pain I'm in and understand the severity of my condition.

3-4 Weeks After Surgery

After my emergency room visit on Easter day, I was able to concentrate on recovery the rest of post op week three. I had a visiting nurse come out on Monday morning and check up on me. The cannulated stitch in my upper thigh from the bypass incision site was removed, and all my vitals were checked. I ran through a list of medications with her to update her on any changes. Nothing had been changed yet, as I had not started reducing the Prednisone yet. I was anxious to start getting off of it, though, because I struggled with the side effects. One minute I was doing okay, and the next I was angry or bawling my eyes out. It also made me feel like I could eat the entire sink and still be hungry, a typical steroid side effect. I started becoming concerned with the fact that I was not losing any more weight from the fluid retention, and instead the weight was staying on. I tried not to concentrate on that. Being a young female who had worked so hard on my physique before surgery, I was disappointed in the aftermath. I needed to remember that none of these factors were permanent and I would soon be able to tone my muscles back to where they were. I struggled with the first stages of atrophy and my joint pain increased throughout the week. I practiced the exercises I was assigned by the Occupational Therapist to begin the process of strengthening my upper body through a series of controlled stretches. These were inspiring as I felt myself getting a little more controlled and having increased endurance each day. I also continued a long walk each day with lots of movement in between. Beginning the process of strengthening myself and getting moving again kept me going.

Toward the end of the week the glue was working its way apart from the sternal scar. It peeled back slowly, mainly on it's own accord. I had to consciously not help it along, and wait for it to fall off naturally so that the scar could heal correctly. Once all the glue had fallen off, the scar was just a light wrinkle about four and a half inches long, barely noticeable under a necklace. This was inspiring to me, and I watched for the bruising to reduce on the rest of my body. I still have the fading hematoma on my thigh, it has not reduced yet. Also there are bruises on each elbow from IVs, and a yellowing bruise on the right side of the sternal incision. There was some bruising where the port was removed but it went away pretty fast. My body continued to heal, getting better by the day and able to do more without becoming short of breath. People who saw me could no longer tell that I had open heart surgery just three weeks before. My efforts could begin to concentrate on aligning my future plans, and finding some help with the burdens I was encountering financially (see 'Partners In Health'). By week four, I was well enough to begin my final exam essays for American History (my last high school class needed to graduate). The essays took the entire week, but by the time they were done I was so relieved I could have cried. I also did a lot of paperwork for state programs and tried to concentrate on deciding which issues in my life were more pressing than others. When there is so much going on at one time, that is when I begin to list. I had this pointed out to me by my incredibly intellectual boyfriend. He noticed that with my anxiety, I list all the possible negatives, the what ifs, and the oh-nos of anything currently overwhelming my life. Worrying about things does not get you anywhere, so when he notices me doing this he cuts me off and makes me recenter on the current situation. I do the same thing to help me stay organized as well though. I write out long lists and make notes as I accomplish things, and when enough of the list has been accomplished I make another list. It's cool to feel accomplished when you check items off of the list.

On week four I was taken off of the Cardiocom system that checked my vitals daily because I was doing so well and feeling stabilized. My Occupational Therapist came to my house and went on a walk with me for the final time, discharging me for good. I ventured out and about more often, for some short shopping trips and visiting friends, and did not feel as worn out by the movement. I began to feel more comfortable lifting a gallon of milk and pulling my car door closed as my muscles healed. I even picked up a cheap oximeter at Wal-Mart to measure my pulse through exercise and my oxygen levels if I need to. I improved my upper body exercises, and felt inspired to improve my walks with some uphill slopes. All these things fell into place, and I knew by the time I saw the surgeon for a check-up in another week I would be improved enough to be released to do more activity.