I knew most of my life I was a candidate for heart disease. My father had his first bypass operation at age 49, then two more. His father dropped dead with his first heart attack at 71. My mother, now 85, received her first stint just a year ago. I will be 59 in a week. I know 40% of American males aged 55-70 drop dead with their first myocardial infarction. I always suspected it was coming: that one of these days I'd grab my chest and feel the telltale pain down the arm and up into the neck, for the big one. But the heart catheterization eight years ago was negative. So was the stress test four years ago. So, when I started getting this very mild pain in my upper chest, radiating back into the left shoulder, I figured I probably had just strained something on a nautilus machine at the gym.
Glad I checked it out. Yesterday Dr. Biel at Depaul put in two stints in my right coronary artery. One blockage was 80% ecluded. The other was 90%. I was cruising for the big one. Most people don't know it when they are. I certainly didn't. Of course, I suspected. I''d developed this nonchalant attitude: "I've pretty much done with my life what I'd hoped to. I could go anytime." Mary and I have been talking about grandchildren. Don't have any yet, but more and more of our friends do. Not that we're pushing our kids, because neither is there yet. But is anyone ever, really? Is anyone ever ready for a heart attack? Or even stint placement?
Now, what difference does it make? I'd say the biggest choice now is whether I want to live quite a bit longer, or die of a heart attack. It used to be theoretical. Now it's real. I've been taking lipitor and fish oil and an aspirin every morning for ten years. That was all preventive. Now I've added the plavix and the beta-blocker. This stuff is not cheap. Yes, my health insurance pays for most of it, but not all. I've decided that since I am taking the drugs, I really DO want to live. But I know better than to think that alone will ward off the big one.
I started back to the gym in February. I decided to give up NOT going to the gym for Lent. If I'd not been working out on a treadmill at least three times a week I wouldn't have known I was having angina chest pain. That's when I felt it most. I went to my internist. He first figured it was weight-lifting too. I called my internist sister. She said, "Try the beta-blocker first." But then my internist said, No, let's do another stress test." Glad I did. And by the way, the nuclear thallium test came out negative. The treadmill EKG told the tale.
What's the spiritual threshold here? It's not that I've learned anything new here. I knew it was coming, eventually. But what's different, is that 'eventually' is now NOW. I AM old, not just getting old. I HAVE heart disease now. I'm not just expecting I will eventually have it. So, before I knew I should cut back on the salt and the fast food and the red meat. Now I KNOW that if I want to live, I MUST. It's a new place. Spiritually, it's a gift. Uncertainty turns to certainty. But procrastination must also now turn to disciplined lifestyle change. Past speculation and learning becomes rubber on the road. I am a person of faith, but even so I believe we only pass this way once. I feel like I've already made the most of it. I've done enough, all things considered. But I'm also not ready to pack it in yet. Today we cleared all the high-sodium cans out of the pantry. I ate a tin of sardines for lunch, with two slices of low-sodium and high fiber toast. Think I'll have a salad for dinner, low-fat dressing on the side.
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