Friday, October 18, 2013
Overview:
Hello world, I am setting up this webpage for anyone who would like to get an insightful view on what my experience has been like to deal, live, fight, battle heart cancer. I am mainly setting up this webpage for family and friends to see the status of my progression against this rare disease however, it also intended for anyone diagnosed with heart cancer or interested in learning more about my battle since it is so rare and there is not much information nor personal accounts related to the subject matter. The first part of my blog also offers a little inside view of what my life used to look like before I was diagnosed. So don't be confused when you see old pictures of me as a bodybuilder. (Lastly, my page is still under construction so some pages/stories may be updated since I decided to make it half way through my journey and not on day 1 since I never thought i was going to have cancer)
Thursday, October 17, 2013
Bodybuilding: The Sport of Gods
Before I was diagnosed with heart cancer, my life focused solely around bodybuilding. It was my passion and true love. I was so addicted that I literally thought about it every second of the day. From planning my meals and eating them to watching videos of the greats (Jay, Ronnie, Lee, Kai, all the pros really), posing in the mirror looking where I could improve (getting bigger) was all I thought and cared about. For anyone who knows anything about bodybuilding, its not just a sport or something you do occasionally like working out at the gym. It's a lifestyle, something you live, breathe, eat, and sleep 24/7 and here are some pics of me towards the end of my first year of serious bodybuilding.
August 3 2011
Height: 5'7
Weight: 180
Body Fat % 10-11
Tuesday, October 15, 2013
One Step Closer
November 22, 2011
Height: 5'7
Weight: 185
Body Fat% 12
Posing "Raw"or "Cold" No Pump up
(Title taken from: Jay Cutler: One Step Closer)
Posing "Raw"or "Cold" No Pump up
(Title taken from: Jay Cutler: One Step Closer)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1LfzHev-UOs&feature=youtu.be
(Make sure to change quality to 1080 for better picture)
(Make sure to change quality to 1080 for better picture)
Monday, October 14, 2013
Chris Slavin - Big and Loving it
February 10, 2012
Me doing mandatory poses and flexing
Height: 5'7
Weight: 195
Body Fat%: 14
Posing "Raw" No Pump up
(Title idea take from: Markus Ruhl: Big and Loving it!)
Sunday, October 13, 2013
Daily Meals - Overkill
To be a bodybuilder you need to consume a lot of food. A massive amount of food actually. The more you eat the bigger you grow. Typically when I ate, it was always to the point where I wanted to puke but I knew that the more I ate and was able to stomach the bigger I would be. So I "ate through the pain" as I typically said to my friends who laughed at the absurd amount of food I would eat and here is an idea of one meal I'd intake a day 4-6 times a day (below). My diet usually consisted of "clean foods" high in protein, good carbs, and healthy fats however, since I wasn't in contest mode and just looking to get BIG I wasn't too concerned with the amount of unhealthy fats I was obtaining. I guess you can say I was more of in an offseason diet. But I tried to eat as healthy as possibly to maintain a somewhat low body fat percentage.
Bodybuilders are also extremists looking to get any edge they can in building muscle. And I was so dedicated that I would wake up in the middle of the night to eat so my body would have food to grow and stay in an anabolic state. So below is a video of me my first time trying to muster down 5 raw eggs to get in that extra protein. So my body wouldn't go into a catabolic state and I could remain anabolic and continue to grow. Eventually I learned that doing an egg one by one and chasing it with gatorade was an easy way for me to eat these raw fellas.
(Make sure to change quality to 1080 for better picture)
(Title taken from Kai Greene: Overkill)
Saturday, October 12, 2013
Day 1 - The Nightmare Begins
6/7/12
It was one of the first weeks of summer vacation when I arose from a blissful nights rest to wake up to a beautiful bright sunny day. It was just like any ordinary summer day when I made my way down to the kitchen to get something to eat when I had noticed a slight pain in my lower left lat. At first I didn’t think much of it, maybe I had just slept on it the wrong way and it was just a cramp. As time went on, the pain continued I thought maybe it was from muscular atrophy since I had taken three weeks off from lifting and I hadn’t been eating as much protein, as I typically had been doing in the past so maybe that had to do with it. However as the pain became worse I had noticed it was from my breathing. The deeper I breathed the more it hurt. So I sat down and just tried to relax and ate a yogurt to try to get some protein in me and possibly it would go away. But things only got worse and I knew this was something serious so I called my mom and we went to the ER.
On the way to the ER I was pretty worried since I never experienced anything like this before and I even threw up on the way there. When we arrived they did the typical routine taking my blood and asked me a few questions about the pain and performed a few scans. As I layed in the hospital bed the pain subsided and I thought maybe I had just been over sensitive like a little girl or something. As time went on I was starving since we had been there so long and because I was feeling better I was dying to get out of there and get some food. I was searching on my phone for some reviews of a restaurant that just opened in town when a Dr. had come in saying that there was a dark spot from one of the scans on my heart and that they wanted to keep me there for further testing. She said it was from a tumor that was in my heart and that I would have to be admitted to the hospital and stay the night. Not only was I floored that I had a possible tumor but that I had to stay in the hospital because I had never done that before in my life. It also didn't hit me until I got up to the hospital floor that I would be staying on that this was not a dream but reality.
It was one of the first weeks of summer vacation when I arose from a blissful nights rest to wake up to a beautiful bright sunny day. It was just like any ordinary summer day when I made my way down to the kitchen to get something to eat when I had noticed a slight pain in my lower left lat. At first I didn’t think much of it, maybe I had just slept on it the wrong way and it was just a cramp. As time went on, the pain continued I thought maybe it was from muscular atrophy since I had taken three weeks off from lifting and I hadn’t been eating as much protein, as I typically had been doing in the past so maybe that had to do with it. However as the pain became worse I had noticed it was from my breathing. The deeper I breathed the more it hurt. So I sat down and just tried to relax and ate a yogurt to try to get some protein in me and possibly it would go away. But things only got worse and I knew this was something serious so I called my mom and we went to the ER.
On the way to the ER I was pretty worried since I never experienced anything like this before and I even threw up on the way there. When we arrived they did the typical routine taking my blood and asked me a few questions about the pain and performed a few scans. As I layed in the hospital bed the pain subsided and I thought maybe I had just been over sensitive like a little girl or something. As time went on I was starving since we had been there so long and because I was feeling better I was dying to get out of there and get some food. I was searching on my phone for some reviews of a restaurant that just opened in town when a Dr. had come in saying that there was a dark spot from one of the scans on my heart and that they wanted to keep me there for further testing. She said it was from a tumor that was in my heart and that I would have to be admitted to the hospital and stay the night. Not only was I floored that I had a possible tumor but that I had to stay in the hospital because I had never done that before in my life. It also didn't hit me until I got up to the hospital floor that I would be staying on that this was not a dream but reality.
Friday, October 11, 2013
Day 2 - The First Sleepover
6/7/12
Staying overnight at the hospital was not as bad as
I thought it would be. I guess I
was so floored about the news and trying to take everything in, I forgot how
shitty the food was and how much it sucked spending the night there alone and
not being able to sleep in my own bed.
When I first got up to the room I called my ex girlfriend at the time
and told her the news that I had a tumor in my heart and that I would need to
have heart surgery. Overwhelmed from the news she started to cry and as I tried
to comfort her and told her what was going to happen I started to cry too. Eventually we both calmed down and I
told her everything would be okay and it would be a standard procedure and that
I would be healthy again once the surgery was over. After I had made the call I was still upset myself from the
situation however, for some reason I knew things would be okay and I tried to
stay as positive as I could since I knew there was no way around it except for
having the surgery. So I mustered up everything I had and just tried to accept
the situation.
Thursday, October 10, 2013
Day 3 - Info/Sales Day
6/8/12
The next day I learned quickly that hospitals run on their own schedule, super fucking early! It was like 7am when I first met with a heart surgeon who quickly went over what had to happen in order for me to stay alive. Still half asleep, he mentioned that there was a small tumor in the left ventricle of my heart and that it needed to come out immediately. He said he wanted the procedure to be done within the next week or so and that the longer I waited the greater the chance it could break off and cause a stroke. He also mentioned that he was willing to do the surgery or that I could get a second opinion from another surgeon. He was there for probably a total of 5 mins, which I was quite surprised based on what I thought the severity of the situation was. But I later learned that surgeons typically don’t get too involved with their patients. They’re basically just there to perform the operation, make sure your alive and their job is finished. Before and after my surgery I probably spoke to him for about 10 mins at the most.
While I was still waking up, a cardiologist came in and went over a little more in detail what the situation was and what I should expect with the procedure such as the recovery and risks involved. He was a little more informative but both Drs. got straight to the point and left quickly after. I then had an ultrasound done around 8 am and was taken back to my room where I was greeted by my parents and lady who was a coordinator that worked for both the Drs. I had met that day. She seemed much more comforting and understanding than the two Drs. had been. And even talked with me about how I felt about the whole situation and my options on who I wanted to do the surgery. She pretty much sold me on how great their team was and that this was going to be just a small bump in the road and that I still had my whole life ahead of me. And that everything would be fine after I recovered and I could have my old life back. Once she left, I heard I was allowed to be discharged home around noon. And I couldn’t wait to leave.
The next day I learned quickly that hospitals run on their own schedule, super fucking early! It was like 7am when I first met with a heart surgeon who quickly went over what had to happen in order for me to stay alive. Still half asleep, he mentioned that there was a small tumor in the left ventricle of my heart and that it needed to come out immediately. He said he wanted the procedure to be done within the next week or so and that the longer I waited the greater the chance it could break off and cause a stroke. He also mentioned that he was willing to do the surgery or that I could get a second opinion from another surgeon. He was there for probably a total of 5 mins, which I was quite surprised based on what I thought the severity of the situation was. But I later learned that surgeons typically don’t get too involved with their patients. They’re basically just there to perform the operation, make sure your alive and their job is finished. Before and after my surgery I probably spoke to him for about 10 mins at the most.
While I was still waking up, a cardiologist came in and went over a little more in detail what the situation was and what I should expect with the procedure such as the recovery and risks involved. He was a little more informative but both Drs. got straight to the point and left quickly after. I then had an ultrasound done around 8 am and was taken back to my room where I was greeted by my parents and lady who was a coordinator that worked for both the Drs. I had met that day. She seemed much more comforting and understanding than the two Drs. had been. And even talked with me about how I felt about the whole situation and my options on who I wanted to do the surgery. She pretty much sold me on how great their team was and that this was going to be just a small bump in the road and that I still had my whole life ahead of me. And that everything would be fine after I recovered and I could have my old life back. Once she left, I heard I was allowed to be discharged home around noon. And I couldn’t wait to leave.
Wednesday, October 9, 2013
Day 4 - Decisions Decisions
6/9/12
The next couple of days my parents and I discussed the situation at hand, but the most important factor was who was going to perform the surgery. At the time, there were two surgeons we were considering, the surgeon who came to see me at Overlook Hospital, and the surgeon who my general practitioner wanted me to see at Columbia. At that period, there was no question in my mind nor my parents who we wanted to perform the surgery. We both wanted the Drs. from Morristown Memorial Hospital.
From my perspective I thought they showed a lot of initiative to come to see me after my initial diagnosis. And the hospital was fairly close to my house so my family and friends could visit me instead of driving a few hours away. Also, I was told that Columbia is a teaching Hospital, so I could have ended up having a surgeon who was a fellow in their last term performing my surgery instead of someone who had years under their belt.
The charisma and passionate story of the coordinator that we had met the day earlier also didn't hurt when she mentioned that her son had undergone open heart surgery when he was a young boy and the team at Memorial performed it and did an excellent job, so thats why I say she sold us on who was going to perform the operation.
Tuesday, October 8, 2013
Day 5 - The Chosen One
6/10/12
That day we had notified the surgeon and his team at Morristown Memorial Hospital that we wanted them to perform the surgery and were willing to have it done as soon as possible since he had mentioned before that he was worried the tumor could break off and cause a stroke at any moment. So the surgery date was set for a few days later...6/14/12.
That day we had notified the surgeon and his team at Morristown Memorial Hospital that we wanted them to perform the surgery and were willing to have it done as soon as possible since he had mentioned before that he was worried the tumor could break off and cause a stroke at any moment. So the surgery date was set for a few days later...6/14/12.
Monday, October 7, 2013
Day 7 - Setback
6/12/12
It was tues. when my mom got a phone call from the surgeon that the surgery was not going to take place this week (Thurs, 6/14/12) but next week on Monday (6/18/12). At the time, I didn't really care because I just thought it would give me some more time to hang out with my girlfriend and live a normal life temporarily. However, at the same time I was a little paranoid that my tumor was going to break off and I would die of a stroke but I was told not to worry since the Dr. said the tumor was there for awhile and it was very unlikely to happen.
It was tues. when my mom got a phone call from the surgeon that the surgery was not going to take place this week (Thurs, 6/14/12) but next week on Monday (6/18/12). At the time, I didn't really care because I just thought it would give me some more time to hang out with my girlfriend and live a normal life temporarily. However, at the same time I was a little paranoid that my tumor was going to break off and I would die of a stroke but I was told not to worry since the Dr. said the tumor was there for awhile and it was very unlikely to happen.
Sunday, October 6, 2013
Day ? - This isn't Protein!?!?
don't know date but in between,
So apparently one of the reasons why the surgeon couldn't perform the surgery on the appointed date was because he was busy with too many surgeries and I think he wanted me to get another scan to see my body and if the cancer had spread to my testicles or brain because he said thats common with this type of tumor. Thank god nothing metastasized because I probably wouldn't be typing right now and would be going through extreme chemo therapy now or something even worse with more surgeries.
My dad drives me to this really nice Dr. office brand new with all glass windows multiple floors making it a big building and lots of nice cars parked outside. This gave me a little more confidence about Dr. #@$%$$ however little did I know I wasn't going to see him today and it was just a scan that he wanted done to double check everything before the surgery and I guess make sure nothing else was there.
When he dropped me off the inside was filled with wooden cabinets and looked brand new as I took the elevator to the right floor I was a little anxious about this whole thing. Not the test but the actual surgery that this was real and it kind of hit me then that I was actually have to go through this.
As I waited in the waiting room I found out that I had to drink this stuff called Barium so the radiologist can better see my organs and the inside. it was a pretty tall bottle that looked like it held a pretty thick liquid and having a bodybuilder mentality I kinda just thought taste doesn't matter I've definitely had worse protein this should be nothing.
The initial swallow wasn't bad, my flavor was dark mocha however, at the end of the sip there was this weird bite to it that made it taste disgusting. So I was suppose to drink 2 full ones but the radiologist in the back said 3/4 of one should be fine. "Honestly what a relief". Because I seriously almost gagged and threw up on that shit multiple times. I'd highly recommend asking to use water instead of Barium for the scan if possible.
So apparently one of the reasons why the surgeon couldn't perform the surgery on the appointed date was because he was busy with too many surgeries and I think he wanted me to get another scan to see my body and if the cancer had spread to my testicles or brain because he said thats common with this type of tumor. Thank god nothing metastasized because I probably wouldn't be typing right now and would be going through extreme chemo therapy now or something even worse with more surgeries.
My dad drives me to this really nice Dr. office brand new with all glass windows multiple floors making it a big building and lots of nice cars parked outside. This gave me a little more confidence about Dr. #@$%$$ however little did I know I wasn't going to see him today and it was just a scan that he wanted done to double check everything before the surgery and I guess make sure nothing else was there.
When he dropped me off the inside was filled with wooden cabinets and looked brand new as I took the elevator to the right floor I was a little anxious about this whole thing. Not the test but the actual surgery that this was real and it kind of hit me then that I was actually have to go through this.
As I waited in the waiting room I found out that I had to drink this stuff called Barium so the radiologist can better see my organs and the inside. it was a pretty tall bottle that looked like it held a pretty thick liquid and having a bodybuilder mentality I kinda just thought taste doesn't matter I've definitely had worse protein this should be nothing.
The initial swallow wasn't bad, my flavor was dark mocha however, at the end of the sip there was this weird bite to it that made it taste disgusting. So I was suppose to drink 2 full ones but the radiologist in the back said 3/4 of one should be fine. "Honestly what a relief". Because I seriously almost gagged and threw up on that shit multiple times. I'd highly recommend asking to use water instead of Barium for the scan if possible.
Thursday, September 27, 2012
Day 12 - The Second Sleepover
6/17/12
Saturday afternoon my mom drove me to the ER of Morristown Memorial Hospital to be admitted for my surgery the following day. For some odd reason, insurance companies make you go through the ER first before you can be admitted; even despite having a set date on when your surgery is going to take place.
When we got there I was kinda nervous and I had to walk in on my own since my mom said she wanted to park the car first. As I'm walking in, I was still in awe of the situation and what my reality was at that moment. I was just still astonished because I felt I was so healthy and how could something so horrific happen to someone so young and in such great shape with no prior health disorder.
As I walked in and told them my name at the front desk, I couldn't help notice how old and deteriorating the place looked. The walls were a cracked pale yellow and looked like they hadn't been remodeled in years. I then started second guessing myself if this was the right choice because I figured if a hospital isn't looking so well how good could these Drs. really be.
When my mom arrived I told her my thoughts on the hospital and she said this isn't where I would be staying and that it would be nicer. And that it has nothing to do with how good the Drs. really are. Shortly after checking in they, quickly took me to the back to wait for a room where I would really be staying in.
A few hours later and a poorly performed hep lock, I was rolled into a really nice room with wooden closets, a granite countertop and a room all to myself. They called it the suite or something like that but all I could think was about getting the surgery over with. About an hr or so later my mom left and she said she would be back in the morning when the surgery was going to take place. While I waited I tried not to think too much about the surgery and what was going to happen the next day.
That night I also had to take a shower with this special septic soap that would get rid of any bacteria to prevent infection. While I was pretty calm for expecting a major surgery the next day, I was unable to sleep even with an ambien and probably only got two hrs of sleep.
When my mom arrived I told her my thoughts on the hospital and she said this isn't where I would be staying and that it would be nicer. And that it has nothing to do with how good the Drs. really are. Shortly after checking in they, quickly took me to the back to wait for a room where I would really be staying in.
A few hours later and a poorly performed hep lock, I was rolled into a really nice room with wooden closets, a granite countertop and a room all to myself. They called it the suite or something like that but all I could think was about getting the surgery over with. About an hr or so later my mom left and she said she would be back in the morning when the surgery was going to take place. While I waited I tried not to think too much about the surgery and what was going to happen the next day.
That night I also had to take a shower with this special septic soap that would get rid of any bacteria to prevent infection. While I was pretty calm for expecting a major surgery the next day, I was unable to sleep even with an ambien and probably only got two hrs of sleep.
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
Day 13 - D Day
6/18/12
It was about 5 am when a nurse came in saying that she needed to shave all the hair off my body to prevent infection and that I needed to take a shower with the special septic soap again. Little did I realize that that was going to be the last shower I was going to be able to take on my own for the next few months. It was so early and I was so tired that I wished I had went to sleep at 8 instead of 11 or whatever because I knew I would need my strength. But, I figured I was going to be asleep for awhile anyways so I tried to get over how exhausted I was.
While I laid there naked as the nurse used an electric razor to shave the hair off me, I couldn't help think how awkward the situation was for both of us. But as the little hair that I had on my body came off, I thought to myself, "at least I'm not one of those hairy old guys, full of chest and back hair". Luckily I'm not naturally hairy but also I recently shaved most of it off since I am a bodybuilder.
Quickly after I was showered, they wheeled me down to a waiting room where many other people were waiting to have surgeries done too. Shortly after I was greeted by both of my parents and we just waited until it was my turn to be rolled into the operating room. My parents tried to comfort me the best they could by saying things like, "you'll be in and out of here in no time", "don't worry every thing's going to be fine" etc. But I knew what had to be done so I just went with it and decided not to worry. Finally, when they said they were ready for me to go into the surgery room, they asked if I had any further questions for the surgeon and I replied, "yea can I can please talk to him". I just thought I wanted to hear from him again, the odds of something going wrong. They said, "he's not here right now but you can talk to him on the phone". So I agreed. As I was passed the phone I pretty much just said,"hi Dr..... and what are the chances of me dying" And he said, "there's a one percent chance of you bleeding to death and a one percent for infection". After that, I thought to myself, "well at least the odds seem pretty good" and said, "ok well see you soon" and hung up.
When they rolled me into the surgery room it was exactly how you would picture it on tv; there were a bunch of nurses and Drs. running around in turquoise scrubs with white masks and all different types of machines and it was just unreal how everything looked since I had never seen an operating room in person before. They eventually rolled me over onto the operating table where it looked like a cross shape with two panels that flapped out for my arms to stay during the surgery. The room was also freezing so they had to put more blankets on me and they said it was because that was how the surgeon liked it.
Soon after, the anesthesiologist came over and introduced himself telling me he was going to give me some medication to help me relax. And it definitely did, it felt like I had a few drinks in me without the dizziness and the lack of vision. Shortly after he said," ok now I'm going to give you something to fall asleep" and as he did all I could help think was "try to stay awake", "try to stay awake". I know that sounds weird but I like to try to fight the anesthesia every time I go under to see if it can be done. I know it's physically impossible but its just something I enjoy doing, maybe just so I know I'm truly under or whatever. A few seconds later I was out like a light, literally because looking back at it now, it was like going from not being tired to forgetting everything and being knocked out.
It was about 5 am when a nurse came in saying that she needed to shave all the hair off my body to prevent infection and that I needed to take a shower with the special septic soap again. Little did I realize that that was going to be the last shower I was going to be able to take on my own for the next few months. It was so early and I was so tired that I wished I had went to sleep at 8 instead of 11 or whatever because I knew I would need my strength. But, I figured I was going to be asleep for awhile anyways so I tried to get over how exhausted I was.
While I laid there naked as the nurse used an electric razor to shave the hair off me, I couldn't help think how awkward the situation was for both of us. But as the little hair that I had on my body came off, I thought to myself, "at least I'm not one of those hairy old guys, full of chest and back hair". Luckily I'm not naturally hairy but also I recently shaved most of it off since I am a bodybuilder.
Quickly after I was showered, they wheeled me down to a waiting room where many other people were waiting to have surgeries done too. Shortly after I was greeted by both of my parents and we just waited until it was my turn to be rolled into the operating room. My parents tried to comfort me the best they could by saying things like, "you'll be in and out of here in no time", "don't worry every thing's going to be fine" etc. But I knew what had to be done so I just went with it and decided not to worry. Finally, when they said they were ready for me to go into the surgery room, they asked if I had any further questions for the surgeon and I replied, "yea can I can please talk to him". I just thought I wanted to hear from him again, the odds of something going wrong. They said, "he's not here right now but you can talk to him on the phone". So I agreed. As I was passed the phone I pretty much just said,"hi Dr..... and what are the chances of me dying" And he said, "there's a one percent chance of you bleeding to death and a one percent for infection". After that, I thought to myself, "well at least the odds seem pretty good" and said, "ok well see you soon" and hung up.
When they rolled me into the surgery room it was exactly how you would picture it on tv; there were a bunch of nurses and Drs. running around in turquoise scrubs with white masks and all different types of machines and it was just unreal how everything looked since I had never seen an operating room in person before. They eventually rolled me over onto the operating table where it looked like a cross shape with two panels that flapped out for my arms to stay during the surgery. The room was also freezing so they had to put more blankets on me and they said it was because that was how the surgeon liked it.
Soon after, the anesthesiologist came over and introduced himself telling me he was going to give me some medication to help me relax. And it definitely did, it felt like I had a few drinks in me without the dizziness and the lack of vision. Shortly after he said," ok now I'm going to give you something to fall asleep" and as he did all I could help think was "try to stay awake", "try to stay awake". I know that sounds weird but I like to try to fight the anesthesia every time I go under to see if it can be done. I know it's physically impossible but its just something I enjoy doing, maybe just so I know I'm truly under or whatever. A few seconds later I was out like a light, literally because looking back at it now, it was like going from not being tired to forgetting everything and being knocked out.
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
Day 13 - Arising in the ICU
6/18/12
When I awoke from the anesthesia, I slowly opened my eyes from a blurred vision and tried to gain consciousness as best I could. The first thing I noticed in my drugged like stupor was a fuzzy yellow wall in front, with blue curtains to either side of me. I became aware I was laying on my back, half upright in a bed with a bunch of machines and monitors with bright lights closely to me. As my vision became clearer, I peered down to my body where all I could see was a cluster of wires and patches on my body with IVs in both arms. Starting to gain more consciousness, I thought to myself, well at least everything went ok and I was thankful to still be alive. With no one around I figured everything must have went well, otherwise I'd probably have Drs. around me rushing in a frenzy.
While my consciousness became greater, I tried to talk to get a nurse's attention to figure out what day it was and how long I had been out for. However, I quickly found I was unable to speak because of an obstruction in my mouth. As I attempted to talk with no success I tried to figure out what was keeping me from getting help. Looking down, all I could see was a clear plastic piece of something confining my mouth wide open preventing me from closing it. I also felt something agitating my throat, so I guessed it was a tube they had put in me while I was asleep.
Talking to no avail I shortly became out of breathe and started to panic that I couldn't talk and could barely breathe. As this happened, I now was in full consciousness and felt an excruciating pain in my chest. I was in such great pain that I somehow managed to sit upright and started shaking my body and just as that happened a nurse or Dr. came by and tried to figure out what was wrong. Since I couldn't talk and explain the agonizing pain I was in, all I managed to think of was to point to my IV in my arm and that they would eventual figure out I needed pain medication such as morphine or whatever they had been giving me.
While they tried to calm me down and told me to relax and lay back, I did as I was told and all I could remember was them sticking some kind of needle into my IV and I was out again. To this day, I'm still not sure if I was just tired and fell back asleep, or if they gave me a sedation because I later heard that sometimes patients start pulling out their wires when they wake up so they have to re-administer some sedation, which I think was my case. It wasn't till the next day I guess that I had woken up again.
When I awoke from the anesthesia, I slowly opened my eyes from a blurred vision and tried to gain consciousness as best I could. The first thing I noticed in my drugged like stupor was a fuzzy yellow wall in front, with blue curtains to either side of me. I became aware I was laying on my back, half upright in a bed with a bunch of machines and monitors with bright lights closely to me. As my vision became clearer, I peered down to my body where all I could see was a cluster of wires and patches on my body with IVs in both arms. Starting to gain more consciousness, I thought to myself, well at least everything went ok and I was thankful to still be alive. With no one around I figured everything must have went well, otherwise I'd probably have Drs. around me rushing in a frenzy.
While my consciousness became greater, I tried to talk to get a nurse's attention to figure out what day it was and how long I had been out for. However, I quickly found I was unable to speak because of an obstruction in my mouth. As I attempted to talk with no success I tried to figure out what was keeping me from getting help. Looking down, all I could see was a clear plastic piece of something confining my mouth wide open preventing me from closing it. I also felt something agitating my throat, so I guessed it was a tube they had put in me while I was asleep.
Talking to no avail I shortly became out of breathe and started to panic that I couldn't talk and could barely breathe. As this happened, I now was in full consciousness and felt an excruciating pain in my chest. I was in such great pain that I somehow managed to sit upright and started shaking my body and just as that happened a nurse or Dr. came by and tried to figure out what was wrong. Since I couldn't talk and explain the agonizing pain I was in, all I managed to think of was to point to my IV in my arm and that they would eventual figure out I needed pain medication such as morphine or whatever they had been giving me.
While they tried to calm me down and told me to relax and lay back, I did as I was told and all I could remember was them sticking some kind of needle into my IV and I was out again. To this day, I'm still not sure if I was just tired and fell back asleep, or if they gave me a sedation because I later heard that sometimes patients start pulling out their wires when they wake up so they have to re-administer some sedation, which I think was my case. It wasn't till the next day I guess that I had woken up again.
Monday, September 24, 2012
Day 14 - The Real Awakening
6/19/12
Feeling a discomforting sensation from the back of my throat leading up to my mouth, I quickly opened my eyes to see what was happening. Right when they were open and I was fully conscious, I saw a 3/4 foot piece of plastic tubing that they had taken out of my mouth. Relieved that that damn thing was out of me and able to take full breathes and talk again, I immediately told the people who had taken the tubing out, that I desperately needed pain medication because of the agonizing anguish I was in.
Even after they had given me more medication, I still felt like I had just been stabbed in the chest from a medieval battle. It must have been morning because the lights were just turning on, and there were a bunch of Drs. going around talking to the patients. So I had assumed about 24 hours had gone by since the operation because I figured the Dr. wouldn't be back until the next day to talk with me.
When my surgeon arrived, I could recognize his deep resonating voice talking to another patient a few "cubicles" down. While I was waiting, I came to the conclusion that all the other patients around me were his because I could hear him talking to each different person as he came closer and closer. When he came to my little cubicle it was the second time I had actually seen him in person and the third time I had spoken to him. I was anxious to hear what he had to say about the operation and how successful he was about taking out the tumor but, he only briefly went over the surgery and I barely remembered what he said because I was still a little dazed from the medications. He also talked so fast and then just left that I didn't even have time to ask him all of my questions.
Feeling a discomforting sensation from the back of my throat leading up to my mouth, I quickly opened my eyes to see what was happening. Right when they were open and I was fully conscious, I saw a 3/4 foot piece of plastic tubing that they had taken out of my mouth. Relieved that that damn thing was out of me and able to take full breathes and talk again, I immediately told the people who had taken the tubing out, that I desperately needed pain medication because of the agonizing anguish I was in.
Even after they had given me more medication, I still felt like I had just been stabbed in the chest from a medieval battle. It must have been morning because the lights were just turning on, and there were a bunch of Drs. going around talking to the patients. So I had assumed about 24 hours had gone by since the operation because I figured the Dr. wouldn't be back until the next day to talk with me.
When my surgeon arrived, I could recognize his deep resonating voice talking to another patient a few "cubicles" down. While I was waiting, I came to the conclusion that all the other patients around me were his because I could hear him talking to each different person as he came closer and closer. When he came to my little cubicle it was the second time I had actually seen him in person and the third time I had spoken to him. I was anxious to hear what he had to say about the operation and how successful he was about taking out the tumor but, he only briefly went over the surgery and I barely remembered what he said because I was still a little dazed from the medications. He also talked so fast and then just left that I didn't even have time to ask him all of my questions.
Sunday, September 23, 2012
Day 14 - Not Over Yet?
6/19/12
Once the surgeon had left, I remembered tracing my hideous scar down my body and at the end of it, about an inch further, I noticed that there were three fresh open slits with yellow rubber tubings coming out of them. The cuts were deep enough that I could see that the tubings went pretty far in, and I immediately began thinking, this is not good; because I just knew that they were going to have to come out eventually and that it was probably going to hurt like a bitch! I then felt an irritation in my dick and peeked down and saw a catheter in it and I just said, "fuck" because I knew that they were going to have to take that out too and that wasn't going to be a walk in the park either. Aside from the hideous scar and the IV's in my arms I was pleased that there was nothing else that they had to take out, until I noticed that there was a IV in my neck which just made things even better! But, I knew that the worst part was going to be the tubings in my stomach or the catheter in my dick.
It must have only been about a half an hr later when another Dr. came in and said he was going to pull the tubings out from me. Immediately my heart started to race because from the way the open cuts looked in my stomach I just knew it was going to hurt like a "bitch". Thank god I had heard from the patient or nurses next to me say that I would receive a morphine shot before, otherwise it would have hurt even more since I didn't get one yet. So I quickly responded to him that I had not yet received morphine and was only on percocets. He looked a little confused, like I should have already received it but quickly left to get a nurse to give me the shot. Once I received the shot, I asked him if it was going to hurt and he said, "yeah, but only for a little while." I just thought, fuck lets get it over with then and remembered looking up in the sky and closing my eyes and feeling an immensely sharp pain coming from my abdomen like I had just been stabbed.
After they had removed the tubings I just sat there in awe and shock because of the pain that I was in. For awhile I was in shock and I even thought if I should cry or not because of the dreadful pain I was in but I figured the less I moved the better. So I just laid there and took the aftermath of the tubes.
Trying to gain back full consciousness of the situation and think about if it was really that painful or if I was just being a little girl about it, I heard the cry from the guy next to me who had just got his pulled out and I heard him say to the nurse or Dr. that on a scale from 1 to 10 it felt like an 11. And I thought mine was a 9 out of 10 so I knew I wasn't the only one who felt an immensely torturous pain.
About fifteen minutes later a nurse had come to say she was going to take out the catheter in my dick. I was still in so much shock and distress that I was just thinking, FML, and I asked her if it was going to hurt and she responded, "you may feel pain for only a second or two". After the Dr. pulling my tubes I had no idea what to think and how much it was going to hurt so I just prepared for the worst, tightened my body and as she counted, "one, two, three," on three it was out and I barely even felt anything because I was still in so much pain from the original tubings being pulled. At that moment I was just happy that all the tubes and catheters were out and I could finally relax.
Once the surgeon had left, I remembered tracing my hideous scar down my body and at the end of it, about an inch further, I noticed that there were three fresh open slits with yellow rubber tubings coming out of them. The cuts were deep enough that I could see that the tubings went pretty far in, and I immediately began thinking, this is not good; because I just knew that they were going to have to come out eventually and that it was probably going to hurt like a bitch! I then felt an irritation in my dick and peeked down and saw a catheter in it and I just said, "fuck" because I knew that they were going to have to take that out too and that wasn't going to be a walk in the park either. Aside from the hideous scar and the IV's in my arms I was pleased that there was nothing else that they had to take out, until I noticed that there was a IV in my neck which just made things even better! But, I knew that the worst part was going to be the tubings in my stomach or the catheter in my dick.
It must have only been about a half an hr later when another Dr. came in and said he was going to pull the tubings out from me. Immediately my heart started to race because from the way the open cuts looked in my stomach I just knew it was going to hurt like a "bitch". Thank god I had heard from the patient or nurses next to me say that I would receive a morphine shot before, otherwise it would have hurt even more since I didn't get one yet. So I quickly responded to him that I had not yet received morphine and was only on percocets. He looked a little confused, like I should have already received it but quickly left to get a nurse to give me the shot. Once I received the shot, I asked him if it was going to hurt and he said, "yeah, but only for a little while." I just thought, fuck lets get it over with then and remembered looking up in the sky and closing my eyes and feeling an immensely sharp pain coming from my abdomen like I had just been stabbed.
After they had removed the tubings I just sat there in awe and shock because of the pain that I was in. For awhile I was in shock and I even thought if I should cry or not because of the dreadful pain I was in but I figured the less I moved the better. So I just laid there and took the aftermath of the tubes.
Trying to gain back full consciousness of the situation and think about if it was really that painful or if I was just being a little girl about it, I heard the cry from the guy next to me who had just got his pulled out and I heard him say to the nurse or Dr. that on a scale from 1 to 10 it felt like an 11. And I thought mine was a 9 out of 10 so I knew I wasn't the only one who felt an immensely torturous pain.
About fifteen minutes later a nurse had come to say she was going to take out the catheter in my dick. I was still in so much shock and distress that I was just thinking, FML, and I asked her if it was going to hurt and she responded, "you may feel pain for only a second or two". After the Dr. pulling my tubes I had no idea what to think and how much it was going to hurt so I just prepared for the worst, tightened my body and as she counted, "one, two, three," on three it was out and I barely even felt anything because I was still in so much pain from the original tubings being pulled. At that moment I was just happy that all the tubes and catheters were out and I could finally relax.
Saturday, September 22, 2012
Day 14 - Later that day...Moving Day
6/19/12
After the traumatic experience of the catheters and tubes being pulled it took me half an hour to recollect myself. Shortly after my parents arrived but i was in so much pain still. I barely remember what they said except that they were smiling everything went successful. Once I finally got comfortable and was able to take a breather they decided to pull out more needles but that was fine because you hardly felt it if at all.
However, because the beds are automatic and adjust based on where your weight is the bed kept moving and hurt my chest immensely so we asked the nurse to pull the plug to the bed so it would stop moving, simple right. For some odd reason that means to her to get me up which hurt like a bitch and was another extremely painful situation and clean my back instead because thats what she thought I asked for. She could speak good english which also makes me mad esp if your a nurse in the ICU and you need medical attention asap how can they hire someone who can barely speak english i mean come on.
Finally they put a new catheter in me because a catheter only lasts about seven days so they did that and had to swing me onto another cart to take me to my suite or room id be staying in. which to be honestly was really nice. So I was glad to be getting out of the ICU and into my own room with tv and shit but the move was dreadful to be honest because i felt every little movement. But finally I just went with it and took the pain and was on the new cart being rolled up and meeting my parents there.
After the traumatic experience of the catheters and tubes being pulled it took me half an hour to recollect myself. Shortly after my parents arrived but i was in so much pain still. I barely remember what they said except that they were smiling everything went successful. Once I finally got comfortable and was able to take a breather they decided to pull out more needles but that was fine because you hardly felt it if at all.
However, because the beds are automatic and adjust based on where your weight is the bed kept moving and hurt my chest immensely so we asked the nurse to pull the plug to the bed so it would stop moving, simple right. For some odd reason that means to her to get me up which hurt like a bitch and was another extremely painful situation and clean my back instead because thats what she thought I asked for. She could speak good english which also makes me mad esp if your a nurse in the ICU and you need medical attention asap how can they hire someone who can barely speak english i mean come on.
Finally they put a new catheter in me because a catheter only lasts about seven days so they did that and had to swing me onto another cart to take me to my suite or room id be staying in. which to be honestly was really nice. So I was glad to be getting out of the ICU and into my own room with tv and shit but the move was dreadful to be honest because i felt every little movement. But finally I just went with it and took the pain and was on the new cart being rolled up and meeting my parents there.
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
Day 139 - Another CAT scan WTF man?
10/24/12
The past week or so I've been feeling sicker than usual so I had to get another CAT scan, this time of the chest and abdomin to check if any small tumor or cancer cells formed. My Dr. was worried since I've been having a lot of pain in my lower lat that spreads around to the front of my stomach to the top of my left trap. Also, my coughing has increased along with daily nausea, vomiting for no apparent reason and minor headaches.
It was around 4 pm when my Dr. told me he wanted the test done today and I had nothing to eat so I was starving. And, they didn't know when I would be able to get the test done. 2 hours later at 6 pm my contrast comes and he said I had to drink at least half so the results would show better details of my organs and they would be able to get a better reading. So I drank the clear contrast which wasn't so bad, definitely not as bad as the barium that I had to drink prior to my first open heart surgery. And I was able to down it without any problems. Around 7 they drew more blood with a hep lock since I didn't want to have to get stuck twice. And I thought it would make more sense since they were going to have to put an iv in me anyways. The CAT scan went fine and then it was just waiting for the results.
The past week or so I've been feeling sicker than usual so I had to get another CAT scan, this time of the chest and abdomin to check if any small tumor or cancer cells formed. My Dr. was worried since I've been having a lot of pain in my lower lat that spreads around to the front of my stomach to the top of my left trap. Also, my coughing has increased along with daily nausea, vomiting for no apparent reason and minor headaches.
It was around 4 pm when my Dr. told me he wanted the test done today and I had nothing to eat so I was starving. And, they didn't know when I would be able to get the test done. 2 hours later at 6 pm my contrast comes and he said I had to drink at least half so the results would show better details of my organs and they would be able to get a better reading. So I drank the clear contrast which wasn't so bad, definitely not as bad as the barium that I had to drink prior to my first open heart surgery. And I was able to down it without any problems. Around 7 they drew more blood with a hep lock since I didn't want to have to get stuck twice. And I thought it would make more sense since they were going to have to put an iv in me anyways. The CAT scan went fine and then it was just waiting for the results.
Monday, September 3, 2012
Day 140 - Breakfast Scan
10/25/12
So it was about 9 in the morning when the nurse comes in saying that I need to have my gastric study and if I would like it now. Half asleep I replied, "can I have it in a few hours?" A few mins later the nurse comes in saying, "they want you to have it done now". All I could think to myself at that moment was "FML" since I fell asleep at 4 am and only had about 5 hrs of sleep in me. So I complied and said, "FINE lets just do it!" As I was just about up, I noticed I had a voice mail of my nurse practitioner saying in this bitchy ass tone, "Chris, you need to have the test done now"! "It's important you have it done now!" So I called her back saying I had already agreed to having it done and I almost said calm the fuck down, but I was mature and resisted.
About 20 mins later the nurse comes back in saying that the test isn't going to be performed until 11 because we waited so long. All I could think in my head was "WTF"? "There was literally a ten min period at the max where I said I wanted to have it later to I'll have it done now!" "WTF!" Already awake now and not able to fall asleep I just thought, "Fuck this place" and "these people really need to get their shit together before they wake me"!
The Gastric Emptying Stomach test as its called, started around 11:30 am where I basically just sat there eating radioactive eggs with two slices of toast and jelly on them. Then I would stand next to a scanner that took a picture of the food in my stomach for about a min. We did this for 9 times every 15 mins, so as you can guess it took awhile.
Later that day the results came back negative for both tests and everything was fine. But they still couldn't figure out the reason for my nausea and vomiting.
Later that day the results came back negative for both tests and everything was fine. But they still couldn't figure out the reason for my nausea and vomiting.
Saturday, September 1, 2012
Day 141 - Fluid Draw...Just my Luck!
10/26/12
It was about 11 am when one of my Drs. came in and woke me saying that I needed to have some of the fluid that had been around my left side taken out because a small amount was getting into my left lung and they were concerned that it could be cancerous. They also wanted to see if there was a viral or bacteria infection in relation to my deterring health since I had a deficient immune system for awhile due to my chemotherapy treatment. He said they would simply put a needle in me and draw out some of the fluid to get read for a biopsy. I was pleasantly pissed the fuck off when he said this: one because I already had two tests in the past two days and two for waking me up so early! And getting a needle stuck in my back did not sound like the funnest thing either.
When I got down stairs to the internal radiology, the Dr. introduced himself and told me that I was going to have a procedure called a thoracentesis. He said he was going to give me a deep lidocaine shot and then would weave a catheter into me drawing out a small sample of fluid so they could get a biopsy. It sounded easy enough and I wasn't too concerned but I wasn't the most ecstatic about getting stuck with another needle.
As we entered the room I just thought to myself, "come on, man up it will be over before you know it", "It's just going to be one more lidocaine shot nothing you haven't had before you can take it". But all I could help thinking to myself was "FML", "Goddamnit" and "Fuck my Dr. for wanting this test done" (I mean this in the nicest way possible)!
The procedure started with me basically sitting in a chair leaning over a table and the nurse giving me an ultrasound to see exactly where the residual fluid was. After that, the Dr. cleaned off my back, dried it and said, "here comes a pinch". It was a long shot since they had to go deep past my ribs but it wasn't too bad. Probably since I've had so many in the past but I held through and then I felt a little irritation when he put in the catheter but afterwards I didn't feel a thing. They eventually drew 180ccs of fluid and the whole procedure probably took about 20 mins including the prep time so I was happy. And it wasn't too painful either, even afterwards. My back just felt a bit sore like I had gotten punched really hard or something.
It was about 11 am when one of my Drs. came in and woke me saying that I needed to have some of the fluid that had been around my left side taken out because a small amount was getting into my left lung and they were concerned that it could be cancerous. They also wanted to see if there was a viral or bacteria infection in relation to my deterring health since I had a deficient immune system for awhile due to my chemotherapy treatment. He said they would simply put a needle in me and draw out some of the fluid to get read for a biopsy. I was pleasantly pissed the fuck off when he said this: one because I already had two tests in the past two days and two for waking me up so early! And getting a needle stuck in my back did not sound like the funnest thing either.
When I got down stairs to the internal radiology, the Dr. introduced himself and told me that I was going to have a procedure called a thoracentesis. He said he was going to give me a deep lidocaine shot and then would weave a catheter into me drawing out a small sample of fluid so they could get a biopsy. It sounded easy enough and I wasn't too concerned but I wasn't the most ecstatic about getting stuck with another needle.
As we entered the room I just thought to myself, "come on, man up it will be over before you know it", "It's just going to be one more lidocaine shot nothing you haven't had before you can take it". But all I could help thinking to myself was "FML", "Goddamnit" and "Fuck my Dr. for wanting this test done" (I mean this in the nicest way possible)!
The procedure started with me basically sitting in a chair leaning over a table and the nurse giving me an ultrasound to see exactly where the residual fluid was. After that, the Dr. cleaned off my back, dried it and said, "here comes a pinch". It was a long shot since they had to go deep past my ribs but it wasn't too bad. Probably since I've had so many in the past but I held through and then I felt a little irritation when he put in the catheter but afterwards I didn't feel a thing. They eventually drew 180ccs of fluid and the whole procedure probably took about 20 mins including the prep time so I was happy. And it wasn't too painful either, even afterwards. My back just felt a bit sore like I had gotten punched really hard or something.
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
Day 152 - Hospital Photo Shoot
11/6/12
So today I just wanted to get a few last shots of what I look like before I have to get my chest ripped open again and go through another open heart surgery. The pictures taken below were from a canon T2i camera and were not edited at all...not even the slightest bit and what you see is what you get. The pictures are also of me posing "Raw" or "Cold" since I have not been able to lift anything heavier than 20 pounds, and if I do its on a very rare occasional and only for a few seconds at most due to my chest still being a bit tender believe it or not.
I guess since it has only been around 5 months it is to be expected since I am still recovering because I hear it will take at least 6-8 months to fully be recovered from what the Drs. say. However, my mom who also had open heart surgery said it took her a year to feel back to normal and at her usual strength. And another reason I am not lifting light weights or even "pumped up" before this little shoot was because my heart rate is abnormally fast, my resting rate is around 105-116 beats per min and the Drs. don't know why!
But they are also worried since I still have 1% of the residual tumor left in my heart and if a small clot from it breaks off from moving around too much it would lead straight to my brain causing a stroke and possibly being fatal. As a result, I have to take a pretty high dose of a blood thinner called Lovenox once a day which is a shot and stings like a bitch and is the reason for the bruises around my lower stomach. Therefore I may not be as big or defined as I used to especially after a heart surgery and 3 rounds of chemo where I literally did not eat anything for the time I was on it and even after a few days because I felt so sick. Plus I've been laying dormant and haven't been using my muscles at all so there is definitely some muscular atrophy going on. But here are pics of me 35 pounds lighter at around 160-165pds.
So today I just wanted to get a few last shots of what I look like before I have to get my chest ripped open again and go through another open heart surgery. The pictures taken below were from a canon T2i camera and were not edited at all...not even the slightest bit and what you see is what you get. The pictures are also of me posing "Raw" or "Cold" since I have not been able to lift anything heavier than 20 pounds, and if I do its on a very rare occasional and only for a few seconds at most due to my chest still being a bit tender believe it or not.
I guess since it has only been around 5 months it is to be expected since I am still recovering because I hear it will take at least 6-8 months to fully be recovered from what the Drs. say. However, my mom who also had open heart surgery said it took her a year to feel back to normal and at her usual strength. And another reason I am not lifting light weights or even "pumped up" before this little shoot was because my heart rate is abnormally fast, my resting rate is around 105-116 beats per min and the Drs. don't know why!
But they are also worried since I still have 1% of the residual tumor left in my heart and if a small clot from it breaks off from moving around too much it would lead straight to my brain causing a stroke and possibly being fatal. As a result, I have to take a pretty high dose of a blood thinner called Lovenox once a day which is a shot and stings like a bitch and is the reason for the bruises around my lower stomach. Therefore I may not be as big or defined as I used to especially after a heart surgery and 3 rounds of chemo where I literally did not eat anything for the time I was on it and even after a few days because I felt so sick. Plus I've been laying dormant and haven't been using my muscles at all so there is definitely some muscular atrophy going on. But here are pics of me 35 pounds lighter at around 160-165pds.
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