There is a fine line writing this blog, expressing my views on a number of subjects, but sometimes struggling about how much personal information I am willing to reveal, and this entry is one of those, somewhat crossing the line to recount a recent health issue as a "public service" piece.
I remember when Forbes' Wealthiest 400 List was first published, noting that among the foremost "professions" that led to wealth was "inheritance." I made a mental note to make that my college major in my next lifetime. Being born into such a family such as DuPont or Rockefeller made succeeding generations instant lottery winners!
Here's the connection to the topic at hand: The reverse lottery is being born into a family that has a history of coronary heart disease. Eating a reasonably healthy diet and exercising might delay or mitigate the effects of being dealt poor genetic cards, but last week I found that no matter what I do, I am going to battle this disease for the rest of my life. That is the depressing part of the problem. I have always approached life with the thought I can do something about affecting the outcome. Well, I have no direct control over the progression of coronary heart disease; both my parents suffered from it, in one form or another.
Now other people have been dealt much worse hands on matters of health and cancer has to be among the most cruel and frightening. Coronary heart disease, however, is stealth like and a bigger killer. It develops over years and years. No doubt I compounded my genetic problem as a young adult, smoking by my late teens into my early 30's. My parents both smoked and the rooms of our home sometimes looked like they were in a fog. Also as I kid I ate foods like Wonder Bread ("builds strong bodies 8 ways!") and drank massive amounts of whole milk (which I did into my college years). Meat was also a staple "health" food, and Coca-Cola at 5 cents a bottle was consumed like water.
Over the past summer I noticed that I was having difficulty climbing steep hills during my morning power walks, with a noticeable tightness in my chest. So until we returned home to Florida, I just avoided hills. That was stupid. I should have seen someone immediately, but I didn't think much of it and I was fine otherwise. Once I returned, my Doctor did not like anything I reported, and he said let's skip the usual stress test and go directly to a radial catheterization. Going through the wrist is a newer technique, with faster recovery for the patient. So I went into our local hospital which has an excellent catheterization unit on Monday last week, made a mental note of the time I was wheeled into the cath lab and found myself in recovery less than a half hour later. I then knew there was something wrong. Even if they did merely a balloon angioplasty it would have taken longer than that.
When the Doctor showed up in recovery, he explained I had a 99% blockage in the "Widow Maker" an apt name for the left anterior descending artery which usually gives little warning of being blocked and most who have a heart attack because of that particular blockage die then and there. This blockage could not be addressed with drugs and most interventionist cardiologists would simply refer me to surgery for bypass surgery, an invasive procedure, painful, and with some real risks.
He suggested another option, inserting two drug eluding "kissing" stents where the arteries form a "V." He said it would be tricky, but given my age it might be a better option than a bypass we might have to do all over again in ten years. One bypass per lifetime is enough.
So the next day I was prepped early for a femoral procedure and at 8.00 am was back in the cath lab saying hello to the same technicians and nurses again (we're on a first name basis). I didn't get out until after 10.00 so I knew it was a complicated procedure, but awaited the word from my Doctor about how it went. He explained I received three new drug eluding stents, two in the left anterior descending artery and a kissing one in the diagonal. That makes six total stents in my system and I am now known as a catheterization lab "frequent flyer."
It's been quite an experience. As I said, not half as bad as many people have to go through with their health issues, but bad enough. The message: listen to your body and know your family history.
I am hopeful that I can continue to successfully manage this, but that hope is sort of dependent on being reasonably tethered to my cardiologist and cath lab. In that regard, Dr. Paul Teirstein of Scripps Clinic wrote a reassuring editorial, "Drug-Eluting Stent Restenosis. An Uncommon Yet Pervasive Problem", published online June 21, 2010 in Circulation. His advice for physicians:
Do not underestimate the emotional impact of repeated procedures on patients, particularly the “frequent flyers” who have experienced multiple visits to the catheterization laboratory. These patients often describe significant frustration and fear. They feel a loss of control, mostly due to an inability to plan their lives and predict when a restenosis will occur. It is helpful to reassure these patients by emphasizing they do not have an incurable, lethal disease.... Patients can be told if they stay in close contact with their cardiologist, the risk of death and infarction is low.... It may sound obvious to the physician, but most of our patients are seeking this kind of reassurance.... I also emphasize that recurrences are unlikely to go on forever. Finally, it is worth communicating that they are not the only patient to encounter this problem, and ultimately, patients with restenosis who seek treatment usually have good outcomes.
I remember when Forbes' Wealthiest 400 List was first published, noting that among the foremost "professions" that led to wealth was "inheritance." I made a mental note to make that my college major in my next lifetime. Being born into such a family such as DuPont or Rockefeller made succeeding generations instant lottery winners!
Here's the connection to the topic at hand: The reverse lottery is being born into a family that has a history of coronary heart disease. Eating a reasonably healthy diet and exercising might delay or mitigate the effects of being dealt poor genetic cards, but last week I found that no matter what I do, I am going to battle this disease for the rest of my life. That is the depressing part of the problem. I have always approached life with the thought I can do something about affecting the outcome. Well, I have no direct control over the progression of coronary heart disease; both my parents suffered from it, in one form or another.
Now other people have been dealt much worse hands on matters of health and cancer has to be among the most cruel and frightening. Coronary heart disease, however, is stealth like and a bigger killer. It develops over years and years. No doubt I compounded my genetic problem as a young adult, smoking by my late teens into my early 30's. My parents both smoked and the rooms of our home sometimes looked like they were in a fog. Also as I kid I ate foods like Wonder Bread ("builds strong bodies 8 ways!") and drank massive amounts of whole milk (which I did into my college years). Meat was also a staple "health" food, and Coca-Cola at 5 cents a bottle was consumed like water.
Over the past summer I noticed that I was having difficulty climbing steep hills during my morning power walks, with a noticeable tightness in my chest. So until we returned home to Florida, I just avoided hills. That was stupid. I should have seen someone immediately, but I didn't think much of it and I was fine otherwise. Once I returned, my Doctor did not like anything I reported, and he said let's skip the usual stress test and go directly to a radial catheterization. Going through the wrist is a newer technique, with faster recovery for the patient. So I went into our local hospital which has an excellent catheterization unit on Monday last week, made a mental note of the time I was wheeled into the cath lab and found myself in recovery less than a half hour later. I then knew there was something wrong. Even if they did merely a balloon angioplasty it would have taken longer than that.
When the Doctor showed up in recovery, he explained I had a 99% blockage in the "Widow Maker" an apt name for the left anterior descending artery which usually gives little warning of being blocked and most who have a heart attack because of that particular blockage die then and there. This blockage could not be addressed with drugs and most interventionist cardiologists would simply refer me to surgery for bypass surgery, an invasive procedure, painful, and with some real risks.
He suggested another option, inserting two drug eluding "kissing" stents where the arteries form a "V." He said it would be tricky, but given my age it might be a better option than a bypass we might have to do all over again in ten years. One bypass per lifetime is enough.
So the next day I was prepped early for a femoral procedure and at 8.00 am was back in the cath lab saying hello to the same technicians and nurses again (we're on a first name basis). I didn't get out until after 10.00 so I knew it was a complicated procedure, but awaited the word from my Doctor about how it went. He explained I received three new drug eluding stents, two in the left anterior descending artery and a kissing one in the diagonal. That makes six total stents in my system and I am now known as a catheterization lab "frequent flyer."
It's been quite an experience. As I said, not half as bad as many people have to go through with their health issues, but bad enough. The message: listen to your body and know your family history.
I am hopeful that I can continue to successfully manage this, but that hope is sort of dependent on being reasonably tethered to my cardiologist and cath lab. In that regard, Dr. Paul Teirstein of Scripps Clinic wrote a reassuring editorial, "Drug-Eluting Stent Restenosis. An Uncommon Yet Pervasive Problem", published online June 21, 2010 in Circulation. His advice for physicians:
Do not underestimate the emotional impact of repeated procedures on patients, particularly the “frequent flyers” who have experienced multiple visits to the catheterization laboratory. These patients often describe significant frustration and fear. They feel a loss of control, mostly due to an inability to plan their lives and predict when a restenosis will occur. It is helpful to reassure these patients by emphasizing they do not have an incurable, lethal disease.... Patients can be told if they stay in close contact with their cardiologist, the risk of death and infarction is low.... It may sound obvious to the physician, but most of our patients are seeking this kind of reassurance.... I also emphasize that recurrences are unlikely to go on forever. Finally, it is worth communicating that they are not the only patient to encounter this problem, and ultimately, patients with restenosis who seek treatment usually have good outcomes.
