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Tick tick
Posted on 2009.07.03 at 18:24Current Mood:
expected
Current Music: Arcade Fire - Windowsill
East on Braddock in a borrowed minivan lined with plastic to protect it from the toxic waste we're hauling out of my father's basement, Russell says, "Hey, look at that" and there's an old man on a bare stretch of sidewalk alongside the highway playing a tuba.
There's no one and nothing for about half a mile either direction of him, save perhaps the occasional jogger. The tuba seems to be in good condition, I wonder how long he's had it and if he's any good. Playing a tuba? Well, he's wearing a tuba at any rate. He seems to be shouting something, though whether he's belting out a fighting song or warning us of the coming apocalypse we'll never know, we've got the windows up and the A/C on.
The final drive away with our last van load of 6 broken speakers, rusted scraps of electronic equipment, black mold coated drywall chunks and books covered in thick fluffy sheets of mold, Russell points out a bus to the left. There's a panel under the driver's window and it's flapping alarmingly in the wind as the bus rattles along, as if at any minute it's gonna break loose and smack into the car behind it, shattering the windshield, maybe slicing into the driver's face, causing him to veer out of control into another car, leading to untold tragedy and property damage.
Might have even made the news if we'd had a camera. None of that happens, though. There are words printed on the panel that's banging away, they read:
SAFETY IS OUR #1 PRIORITY
...
so.
My dad's cardio catheterization was Tuesday. Dr. Cossa did the procedure. He did not do the angioplasty we expected. Instead, he gave us a sheet of paper with a drawing of a heart on it.
It looked kind of like this: ___Heart_Diagram___
{explanation of drawing}
The two arteries that bring blood into the heart both come in from the top. There's one main artery running into the right side of the heart (shown on the left side of the paper), and one running into the left side, which forks close to the top. One fork runs along the front left of the heart and the other along the back.
Up at the tippy top just a wee bit past where the right artery first comes in, there was a pencil mark drawn across it next to the number 60.
This means that there is about a 60% blockage at that point in that artery preventing blood from getting into the rest of the heart. The rest of the heart being damned near all of it.
The top of the left artery, the one running to the back of the heart, had a 95 by it, meaning a 95% blockage.
The front left artery had a 100 next to it, meaning no blood is getting through at all.
{end of explanation}
...
so.
They explained that the damage is such that a stint wouldn't do much.
They said he needs a triple bypass. They set up an appointment for the next day to see Dr. Lefrak.
Wednesday at 2:45 we met Dr. Lefrak. If I needed to find a dude to cut a hole in my chest and leg and start switching shit with other shit, I would want it to be Dr. Lefrak.
He let us know that, considering my dad's general health, he is at greater risk than an otherwise healthy man his age. He said his recovery time would be much longer and he would need someone taking care of him for several weeks. He also said he could basically guarantee a massive heart attack if my dad chose to do nothing.
He told me that heart disease is genetic, and while there's nothing you can do about your genes, there are choices you can make to lessen the odds. I quit smoking Thursday. So did Cynthia. I'm not drinking this weekend. I'm thinking of cutting back to wine Fridays with dinner, getting back into a regularly scheduled exercise routine.
Lefrak said that it's my dad's choice, but if he wants to do it he should get it over with as soon as possible.
My dad stopped being evasive and blocking for the first time in a very long time. He asked if his refusal to get knee surgery had led to his inactivity, causing these heart problems. Lefrak said that most likely, during prep for knee surgery all of this would have been discovered and the heart surgery would have had to come first anyway, but there's no point in worrying about the what ifs, just where we can go from here.
Dad's heart surgery is scheduled for the morning of the 14th, the day after my final.
In the meantime, some friends have been helping me with the daunting task of trying to do some removal and sterilization of the basement and parts of the living room. The subfloor, tile, toilet, and plumbing to the sink in the hallway bathroom needs to be replaced, and we can't bring a plumber in.
I'm still pulling solid A's at school.
Still living in a beautiful little apartment.
Still coming up on my 2 year anniversary to my wonderful, beautiful wife.
Everybody still dies some day.
These are things I've been expecting for a long time now.
I feel about the way I expected to feel.
These are some things that have been going on lately.
There's no one and nothing for about half a mile either direction of him, save perhaps the occasional jogger. The tuba seems to be in good condition, I wonder how long he's had it and if he's any good. Playing a tuba? Well, he's wearing a tuba at any rate. He seems to be shouting something, though whether he's belting out a fighting song or warning us of the coming apocalypse we'll never know, we've got the windows up and the A/C on.
The final drive away with our last van load of 6 broken speakers, rusted scraps of electronic equipment, black mold coated drywall chunks and books covered in thick fluffy sheets of mold, Russell points out a bus to the left. There's a panel under the driver's window and it's flapping alarmingly in the wind as the bus rattles along, as if at any minute it's gonna break loose and smack into the car behind it, shattering the windshield, maybe slicing into the driver's face, causing him to veer out of control into another car, leading to untold tragedy and property damage.
Might have even made the news if we'd had a camera. None of that happens, though. There are words printed on the panel that's banging away, they read:
SAFETY IS OUR #1 PRIORITY
...
so.
My dad's cardio catheterization was Tuesday. Dr. Cossa did the procedure. He did not do the angioplasty we expected. Instead, he gave us a sheet of paper with a drawing of a heart on it.
It looked kind of like this: ___Heart_Diagram___
{explanation of drawing}
The two arteries that bring blood into the heart both come in from the top. There's one main artery running into the right side of the heart (shown on the left side of the paper), and one running into the left side, which forks close to the top. One fork runs along the front left of the heart and the other along the back.
Up at the tippy top just a wee bit past where the right artery first comes in, there was a pencil mark drawn across it next to the number 60.
This means that there is about a 60% blockage at that point in that artery preventing blood from getting into the rest of the heart. The rest of the heart being damned near all of it.
The top of the left artery, the one running to the back of the heart, had a 95 by it, meaning a 95% blockage.
The front left artery had a 100 next to it, meaning no blood is getting through at all.
{end of explanation}
...
so.
They explained that the damage is such that a stint wouldn't do much.
They said he needs a triple bypass. They set up an appointment for the next day to see Dr. Lefrak.
Wednesday at 2:45 we met Dr. Lefrak. If I needed to find a dude to cut a hole in my chest and leg and start switching shit with other shit, I would want it to be Dr. Lefrak.
He let us know that, considering my dad's general health, he is at greater risk than an otherwise healthy man his age. He said his recovery time would be much longer and he would need someone taking care of him for several weeks. He also said he could basically guarantee a massive heart attack if my dad chose to do nothing.
He told me that heart disease is genetic, and while there's nothing you can do about your genes, there are choices you can make to lessen the odds. I quit smoking Thursday. So did Cynthia. I'm not drinking this weekend. I'm thinking of cutting back to wine Fridays with dinner, getting back into a regularly scheduled exercise routine.
Lefrak said that it's my dad's choice, but if he wants to do it he should get it over with as soon as possible.
My dad stopped being evasive and blocking for the first time in a very long time. He asked if his refusal to get knee surgery had led to his inactivity, causing these heart problems. Lefrak said that most likely, during prep for knee surgery all of this would have been discovered and the heart surgery would have had to come first anyway, but there's no point in worrying about the what ifs, just where we can go from here.
Dad's heart surgery is scheduled for the morning of the 14th, the day after my final.
In the meantime, some friends have been helping me with the daunting task of trying to do some removal and sterilization of the basement and parts of the living room. The subfloor, tile, toilet, and plumbing to the sink in the hallway bathroom needs to be replaced, and we can't bring a plumber in.
I'm still pulling solid A's at school.
Still living in a beautiful little apartment.
Still coming up on my 2 year anniversary to my wonderful, beautiful wife.
Everybody still dies some day.
These are things I've been expecting for a long time now.
I feel about the way I expected to feel.
These are some things that have been going on lately.