When I subtract in my head I visualize, carry the numbers, and sometimes draw in the air with my finger.
Huh. Do you visualize the quantities, or the actual written digits?
Just talked to my doctor. Blood tests from yesterday came back. (And yes, I'm still annoyed that they had to stick me three times before getting a vein, because they wouldn't listen to me when I said, "I've got tiny veins, and they tend to slip around. The best way to get a vein is to use this vein here and a pediatric needle.") Turns out I've got hypothyroidism, which I'd kind of suspected. I need to see an endocrinologist now.
My Dad is home from the hospital finally. Here's how it all broke down:
Monday morning, he went in for a pre-scheduled angiogram to check for blockage; they found a 90% blockage in one vein that feeds directly into his heart (this is a vein graft from his quadruple bypass of 10 years ago; the vein graft keeps getting re-blocked, on average every 6-9 months; the other 3 grafts were mammary arteries, and are still fine, after 10 years). Therefore, they opened the blockage, put in a hep-coated stent, easy peasy, everything was good.
Monday evening, I visited Dad, he looked good, felt fine, was planning on going home Tuesday.
Monday night, Dad has severe chest pain that lasted (according to him) for 2-3 hours. It was, in fact, heart attack #5, caused by a blood clot that got loose in the aforementioned vein graft, probably knocked loose when the blockage was opened and the stent placed. [Although on Tuesday, they knew it was a heart attack, but didn't know the cause, due to extreme lack of X-ray vision and/or omniscience.]
Tuesday, Dad hung out in the hospital, Steph freaked out quietly, cardiologist checked and re-checked tests to confirm that it was a heart attack -- although a mild one.
Wednesday morning, they went back in to do another angiogram to see what the hell caused the heart attack, whereupon they went, "Huh. Blood clot," removed the clot, and checked the stents, etc. Dad had a turkey sandwich and peanut-butter crackers.
Today he was released home, with a 3-month prescription for Coumadin. [I immediately thought of connie and her DH, but I didn't explain that to Dad.] He wasn't pleased about the Coumadin, because it means, among other things, that he has to go buy an electric razor so that he doesn't cut himself while shaving with his usual safety razor and bleed to death.
His cardiologist said that she's had a lot of luck with putting patients in Dad's situation on only 3 months of Coumadin, because it (essentially) cleans out the crud that's hanging out in that vein graft which keeps re-blocking.
All's well that ends well, blah blah cardiovascularcakes. BEHOLD the man who survived 5 heart attacks! MARVEL as he rakes leaves this weekend! (I shit you not; he plans to rake this weekend, and I seriously doubt anything will derail his plans.) He is one goddamn tenacious man of steel, I tell you what.
Your dad is the man of steel, Steph.
Make sure he follows all the doctor's orders about his diet and Coumadin, Teppy! Check the pill bottle for warnings about grapefruit juice, and make sure he stays away from stuff high in vitamin K!
edit: Mad, wacky stuff, Coumadin.
Wow...
My dad is a hypochondriac.
He *thought* he was having a heart attack five times. Two still in his twenties.
Tep--my Grandma had 5 heart attacks, the last in her mid-70s. She lived to be 96.
Teppy, I guess stubbornness really is a survival trait!
Huh. Do you visualize the quantities, or the actual written digits?
The digits. Blinvisible chalk board all the way.
BEHOLD the man who survived 5 heart attacks! MARVEL as he rakes leaves this weekend!
OK, laughing here. Your dark humor is a lovely thing, dear.
Make sure he follows all the doctor's orders about his diet and Coumadin, Teppy! Check the pill bottle for warnings about grapefruit juice, and make sure he stays away from stuff high in vitamin K!
edit: Mad, wacky stuff, Coumadin.
It interacts with, like, *everything.* Possibly even air.
Tep--my Grandma had 5 heart attacks, the last in her mid-70s. She lived to be 96.
Right on!
Right on to your Super Dad, tep!
