Docking Procedure Complete

In honor of the nuclear aircraft carrier U.S.S. Carl Vinson and the starship Enterprise, my Navy veteran and Trekkie husband named this post.

We also kicked the tires on "the eagle has landed" or "the package has been delivered", but Navy-speak is always his preference.

Having taken the children to their respective schools this morning, I stopped at Starbucks (aka "Fivebucks", per the Mister) on my way to the hospital.  After all, it was 8:05, and his procedure wasn't scheduled until 10.  I got my skinny caramel latte and was just putting the key in the ignition when he called and said, "they're running ahead of schedule and are going to take me down at 9.  What's your ETA?"

I advised that I was on my way and should be there by 8:30.  Got on the highway and headed to the hospital;  upon arriving in the parking lot, my phone rang again - the Mister said, "where are you, they are taking me now."  What the heck?!  So I busted my tail getting in and up to his room so I could grab his iStuff before his room was pillaged - thankfully he hadn't gone to the cath lab yet, so I got a smooch and rode down the elevator with him.

At 10 a.m., he was finished and we got to speak with Dr. Yen (the cardiologist du jour from Northeast Georgia Heart Center) who did the procedure.

Tuesday's diagnostic heart cath showed two major blockages; 95% and 80% respectively in the Mister's left anterior descending artery, or LAD (I am getting really good at cardiovascular lingo). 

Today's placement of a balloon and a single stent has opened the entire LAD to 100%.   How about them apples?! 

Dr. Yen is really good;  he patiently answered my amateur, WebMD-based questions and gave the Mister an enthusiastic thumbs-up for Friday discharge from the hospital.

One possible but unlikely hurdle - the nephrologist has to give the green light as well.  Now that you are also an expert in kidney function as demonstrated by creatinine levels, you will understand why we are so happy with this morning's reading of 1.9.  Best it's been since this party started on October 24th, so we are optimistic that the Mister will be comfortably squared away in his recliner for the Alabama-LSU game on Saturday night.

Have to share a quick funny with you that I meant to post yesterday.  The Mister had several beloved visitors yesterday morning, but he was wiped out by mid-afternoon. We pulled the blinds and turned off all the lights so he could get some rest, and I read quietly in the corner.  The door opened, and in walked a little man from the business office.

Now it's important to point out that both the Mister and I have worked in healthcare business operations for many, many years.  We understand more than most the importance of getting all the insurance information correct before the patient flies the coop;  too much healthcare $$ gets written off because it's impossible to collect.  What are they going to do, re-po a stent?  I think not.

Anyway, this little guy goes over our benefits with us, and while it's been a terrible year from the health status perspective, we met our deductible and out-of-pocket max several weeks ago.  This $50k hospital visit is going to cost us about $400 or less.  We smiled with the little man, and I shook his hand, and we waited on him to leave.

Only he didn't.

Instead, he proceeded to share way too much information about heart disease as experienced by random members of his family.  We learned about his drug-addicted cousin in Mumbai and his cocaine-induced arrhythmia; his own difficult divorce and how that crazy wench broke his heart; his father's hypertension and its response to high sodium intake...and after about ten minutes of his soliloquy, we started giving increasingly rude signals that we were ready for him to leave.  The Mister turned away and went back to sleep.  I broke eye contact and began typing away on my laptop.  I glanced at the clock a couple of times...yet he apparently has difficulty interpreting social signals because he continued to yammer on.  I finally had to say, "I think we're done here, don't you?", at which point his eyebrows went up and he came to the realization that he'd worn out his welcome.

It's now a few minutes after noon, and the Mister is snoozing peacefully, no doubt dreaming of his own bed and wearing warm flannel jammie pants straight from the dryer.  Looking forward to having him back there this time tomorrow, or shortly thereafter.