It's been 10 pounds, 2 weeks, 1 heart attack and a 4x bypass surgery since my last post.
Doesn't feel like any of it's happened quite yet - not sure when I'll be landing.
On Friday night, I received the second worst phone call any child can get: "Shannon, it's mom. Your dad's in the hospital. He's had a heart attack."
Now, ever since my dad hit his 70s, health issues have been on the menu. First, it was Stage 4 Squamos Cell Carcinoma at the base of his tongue, down the side of his neck and wrapped right around his aorta. Incidentally, that's the same illness and treatment Michael Douglas received. Fortunately, the docs kicked its ass (and my dad's for a while) and ultimately beat the disease into remission. That was about 4 years ago.
The cancer wasn't exactly a surprise, though. My dad smoked for 35 years. He drank his fair share in the 60s and 70s during his first marriage. According to his oncologist and ENT, that's likely what caused the mess.
The heart attack on the 6th, however, came as a shock - at least initially. His own dad dropped dead of a heart attack back in the 1950s when my dad was in his late teens or early 20s (can't remember). My dad took Lipitor for a while in the 90s until he got the blood pressure so under control that the docs took him off. Still, my dad checked his BP religiously just to be on the safe side. He's a pretty active guy - not a gym rat, but he's just one of those people that never sits still. We call his relentless activity "puttering"...and oh, how he putters. I inherited that nervous disorder myself - though, I fight it more effectively (hence the recliner-shaped behind).
Oh, and he had just had a physical not a week before! BP was great. Heart rate excellent. Weight was just fine. Blood sugar was borderline - but he's been "borderline" apparently for about 30+ years. More on THAT later.
So, cut to a few days after his ambulance ride, ER visit and barrage of tests and monitoring in the Cardiac Unit of our hometown hospital. The CT scan revealed that dad had an 85% blockage in one artery...and THAT was the GOOD artery. The rest were 90%+ - and one or two were just about fully blocked off. The cardiac surgeon - Dr. Acujuo (pr: A-Cujo - which was awesome, since my dad is a rabid Stephen King fan) said in no uncertain terms that his heart disease was advanced and he was lucky that he hadn't had the "big one" and dropped dead. Luckily, there wasn't any irreparable damage to the heart muscle itself - otherwise, it would have been a much different conversation.
Oh, and a side note on names: his cardiologist's name: Dr. Love. He fixes broken hearts for a living. Talk about being born to do your job!
As for the cause - it's a bit murky. Dr. Acujuo said that his diet might have gotten the ball rolling but that the likely culprit for getting it to death's door proportions was actually the cancer treatment. When she said that, I immediately remember my dad's oncologist telling him that his life expectancy post-cancer was about a decade - and that's mostly because of my dad's age and the severity of the treatment. No shit.
In terms of the borderline diabetes bit - that all just pisses me off. Apparently, this has been going on for so long that the doctors have essentially chosen to ignore it. Since my dad's levels are never off the charts and since his pre-diabetes has never progressed into Type II - it's as though it wasn't a factor in his health's "big picture". Seriously? If you see someone walking toward a line on the horizon and you happen to know there's a cliff just a few yards ahead...provided it wasn't someone you hated...wouldn't you maybe try to pull them back from the brink?
For the next two weeks, dad has to test his blood sugar - which, honestly, we've managed to get down to ridiculously low levels thanks to his new heart healthy, diabetes-friendly diet. He's probably just going to be a diet controlled diabetic - but still - even over the past decade as the connection between diabetes and heart disease became more clear - you'd THINK that his PCP would have suggested he cut down on his favorite Pustie Pie pastries, coffee cakes and pancakes. It's not like my dad ate nothing but pastries and pies - but he did eat his fair share after an otherwise balanced and healthy meal (metric assloads of sodium, notwithstanding).
So, my dad has managed to cheat death twice in the past half decade. The stress and non-stop motion of spending anywhere from 5 - 15 hours in a hospital for 10 days and staying at my folks' house for 4 more to get them settled, on a diet and into a routine put me 10 pounds closer to my weight loss goal.
All in all, a damn good week when put in the proper perspective.