Cigarettes, heart and life
One year ago today I drove myself to the emergency room because I was having a horrible asthma attack. It was on my way there that I smoked my last cigarette. How sick is that? I remember tasting stale smoke that was trapped in my lungs for a week. It was disgusting enough to keep me from smoking. Perspective changes with time and growth. What deemed more disgusting was at the time I felt pride for at least having smoked one last time before I was admitted. It is amazing what the lure of addiction will make one think. What is even more incredible is the fact that addiction speaks so many different languages on so many different occasions, it is hard to maintain awareness. Success occurs in a state of trained hypervigiliance. Though I am pumped about my not smoking I am even more proud and thankful of the results that I got from Mayo, yesterday.
As I said in a previous post I had what is called a CAT angio. I was anticipating the worst. My family history is damning. My mom had a quadruple bypass at 30. I was 4; I remember flashes, and her grayness. Moreover my grandmother has had multiple double and triple bypasses, and my uncle has had a quintuple bypass. I have been medicated since I was little. I think it was 2nd grade when I first had to take these horrible nuggets of grossness called Choli-bars. Honey would try and mask the bars disgusting flavor of regurgitated raspberry spit mixed with sand. I remember every day at lunch I would go down to the nurses station and pull out my bear full of honey, already gagging from the idea of my nemesis. When I turned 10, I was able to kick the bars and move over to questran. I can't believe that at one point I was excited about switching to a powder form. That was a fleeting feeling. I would mix orange juice and this straight sand concoction in one of those salad dressing mixers. I tried, as hard as a 10 year old could. Then I learned the tricks of the trade. I would pour it down the drain when someone wasn't looking, I would not empty the packet all the way into the juice and throw it away. I was pretty savvy at hiding my sneakiness when need be. The numbers never lied though. My cholesterol levels were monitored regularly, I hadn't plotted all the way through. When my numbers went back up, the dosage got upped. I think I was actually taking the sand juice in the morning before school and then at bedtime. On top of that I would have to eat the hunk of sandy raspberry spit at lunch. Those were rough years. Then when I was 16 I finally was able to take mevacor. All hail pills. That was shortlived as well. For the past 10 years I have been on and off cholesterol meds more than I care to admit. When I turned 26 it seemed a lot closer to 30 than 25. Thirty has been a magic number for me, In this case I thought it would mark a second generational bypass. I wonder if somewhere I wanted that to be the case. I have always loved my mom's scar. I wear it as if it were my own. Pride is multigenerational.
When I had those tests last week I went on my own. I felt as though it was something I needed to do for me and for my heart. I have lived my life as if parts of me compartmentalized will morph into my mom. It has been a long path to learn that I am not her and her experiences are not mine I surely hold them as if they were. But not today, not anymore. It is not her heart that beats in my body, it is my own. It wasn't about my crazy family history when I went in for that test, it was about my heart and it was even more about me. I got through it, and I would never change it; however the next time I need to have that test done I will not go alone. I would be lying if I said wasn't nervous. I felt really alone and I felt really young and I felt so much like myself. It was over almost as soon as it had started. I go back October 3rd for my follow-up with the doctor.
It was yesterday though that I met with my otalryngologist (ear, nose and throat doctor). He was the doctor who scolded me for not taking care of my heart weeks upon weeks ago. Today was a different story, my sinuses first of all feel 10000 times better, and he said they looked good as well. He then asked if I had been to see a cardiologist. I told him I had and told him of the tests. He then asked if I had the results and I told him I would find out on the third. He left the room for a moment. He came back with papers in hand. They were the results reporting no calcification in any of my arteries. My heart is a healthy heart, all of my arteries are clear. There are not any blockages anywhere. The slate was wiped clean for me. I thought for so long that actions I had taken in my youth had left severe repercussions; and it turns out it wasn't like that at all.
To sum all of this up; I am happy, healthy, and I am not broken. So much depends upon a year.
As I said in a previous post I had what is called a CAT angio. I was anticipating the worst. My family history is damning. My mom had a quadruple bypass at 30. I was 4; I remember flashes, and her grayness. Moreover my grandmother has had multiple double and triple bypasses, and my uncle has had a quintuple bypass. I have been medicated since I was little. I think it was 2nd grade when I first had to take these horrible nuggets of grossness called Choli-bars. Honey would try and mask the bars disgusting flavor of regurgitated raspberry spit mixed with sand. I remember every day at lunch I would go down to the nurses station and pull out my bear full of honey, already gagging from the idea of my nemesis. When I turned 10, I was able to kick the bars and move over to questran. I can't believe that at one point I was excited about switching to a powder form. That was a fleeting feeling. I would mix orange juice and this straight sand concoction in one of those salad dressing mixers. I tried, as hard as a 10 year old could. Then I learned the tricks of the trade. I would pour it down the drain when someone wasn't looking, I would not empty the packet all the way into the juice and throw it away. I was pretty savvy at hiding my sneakiness when need be. The numbers never lied though. My cholesterol levels were monitored regularly, I hadn't plotted all the way through. When my numbers went back up, the dosage got upped. I think I was actually taking the sand juice in the morning before school and then at bedtime. On top of that I would have to eat the hunk of sandy raspberry spit at lunch. Those were rough years. Then when I was 16 I finally was able to take mevacor. All hail pills. That was shortlived as well. For the past 10 years I have been on and off cholesterol meds more than I care to admit. When I turned 26 it seemed a lot closer to 30 than 25. Thirty has been a magic number for me, In this case I thought it would mark a second generational bypass. I wonder if somewhere I wanted that to be the case. I have always loved my mom's scar. I wear it as if it were my own. Pride is multigenerational.
When I had those tests last week I went on my own. I felt as though it was something I needed to do for me and for my heart. I have lived my life as if parts of me compartmentalized will morph into my mom. It has been a long path to learn that I am not her and her experiences are not mine I surely hold them as if they were. But not today, not anymore. It is not her heart that beats in my body, it is my own. It wasn't about my crazy family history when I went in for that test, it was about my heart and it was even more about me. I got through it, and I would never change it; however the next time I need to have that test done I will not go alone. I would be lying if I said wasn't nervous. I felt really alone and I felt really young and I felt so much like myself. It was over almost as soon as it had started. I go back October 3rd for my follow-up with the doctor.
It was yesterday though that I met with my otalryngologist (ear, nose and throat doctor). He was the doctor who scolded me for not taking care of my heart weeks upon weeks ago. Today was a different story, my sinuses first of all feel 10000 times better, and he said they looked good as well. He then asked if I had been to see a cardiologist. I told him I had and told him of the tests. He then asked if I had the results and I told him I would find out on the third. He left the room for a moment. He came back with papers in hand. They were the results reporting no calcification in any of my arteries. My heart is a healthy heart, all of my arteries are clear. There are not any blockages anywhere. The slate was wiped clean for me. I thought for so long that actions I had taken in my youth had left severe repercussions; and it turns out it wasn't like that at all.
To sum all of this up; I am happy, healthy, and I am not broken. So much depends upon a year.
posted by amandakate at 8:18 AM
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