Several regulars have asked how my husband Mike is doing after his heart attack earlier this year.
The answer is so-so.
He’s up and about, and the cardiac cough that made the first month or so tough has eased. But his blood pressure and heart rate are way too labile, and he has zero energy. I also have to guard carefully against him taking a tumble.
So, the first appointment for cardiac rehab isn’t until mid-December, and it looks like we’ll try another stent, as the first one was unsuccessful. After that, it looks increasingly like open heart surgery, which will keep both of us home until sometime after Easter.
The whole thing’s also a little surreal. Neither of us have ever had major physical health issues, and we’re young for our ages. So this is a wakeup call, and discussions with doctors about what approaches yield the longest life expectancy reinforce the notion we’re moving into the final years of our lives — exacerbated by our nine-year age difference.
We’re grateful for the flowers, the food, the kind thoughts, the good karma and the prayers.
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