Into the future- My angiogram and the aftermath.

It’s been a while since I last posted anything, as I’ve had much to think about and a lot of soul-searching to do. The end of July was the culmination of all the check-ups and tests that I’ve had to undergo since the beginning of the year, and now I finally know what’s going on inside and weighed up all the options, I now know what steps to take to restore my health to something that will give me a long and happy life.

The angiogram was, despite being a routine operation, one of the most traumatic experiences I have ever had to undergo, simply because of what it revealed to me, and the implications of what could have happened should anything have gone wrong. The procedure seemed simple enough- a catheter, which was basically a tube about 3mm in diameter and over a metre long, would be put into the femoral artery in my groin, and then slid all the way up to my heart, where it would be used to inject a contrasting agent into my blood so that the surgeons could take detailed pictures of the arteries supplying blood to my heart. There was a small chance that having the catheter so close to my heart would trigger a heart attack, so I was understandably nervous on the day.

The catheter goes into the femoral artery in the groin, and travels up to the heart.

What didn’t add to my confidence was the fact that on the day, I was one of a dozen or so patients, whose ages ranged from 19 to 91, who were all there for the same procedure, and we were to be treated one after the other in some kind of bizarre assembly line situation. This wasn’t helped when my turn came, and I had to be steered away from one theatre while a mess was cleaned up, and a memorial service was being held there for someone who had died the previous week. Wait, what? This sounded like it was getting pretty damned serious! To add to my nervousness, I discovered, while overhearing the lab technicians chatting as I was being helped into position, that the person performing the operation had only had three hours sleep the night before, and was relying on strong coffee to keep going. Gulp.

I think he realised that I’d heard this, as he reassured me by saying that the chances of anything going wrong were about one in a thousand. “That’s fine,” I quipped, “As long as you haven’t done 999 operations before you got to me!” The actual operation itself was unpleasant; the catheter felt like a nail being pushed into my groin until there was a sharp ‘popping’ sound, followed by a shivering sensation travelling up my body as the tube went in. There was a bank of TV monitors by my head, on which I could see a grey, pulsating blob. When a black line rose into view, I realised that this must have been the catheter, so the grey blob must have been my heart.

They moved the catheter about and took as many images as they needed, and when the tube was removed, they pressed on my thigh really hard for ten minutes before applying a dressing. I wasn’t allowed to move for two hours afterward, and walking proved to be very stiff going for a day or two afterwards, with a livid purple bruise that stretched from just below my waist to just above my knee- and I felt like I’d been kicked in the nether regions by a horse with spiked shoes and an attitude probem.

The report concluded that I have two arteries that are too narrow to have an angioplasty and are, in effect, blocked, and the surgeons recommended that I go in for a bypass operation. It was while researching the operation that I discovered the risks involved; during the operation, I would be connected up to a pump and my heart stopped, before veins were harvested from my legs to be grafted either side of the blockages, and my heart re-started. Aside from the obvious risk that they might not succeed in starting the heart once it was stopped, there was also a very real risk of a heart attack or a stroke, and often both, during this procedure. The connection to the pump also carries a risk, which I discovered from various American sources, as microscopic fragments of plastic in the pump could find their way into my bloodstream and induce brain-damage. This is apparently so commonplace that American cardiologists call this ‘pump-head’. There is also the risk of  other organs failing due to the stress being placed on them by the removal of  some of the blood vessels in my legs for the bypass grafts.

This wasn’t encouraging, so I began to look at other alternatives to see if I could regain my health or reverse the effects of my heart disease by non-invasive, non-surgical techniques, especially since there was a chance that even if the operation was successful, there was a good chance that I would need further surgery a few years later as the bypasses became blocked. I’d also begun an exercise program with a Nordic Track machine and started to feel fitter, and I didn’t fancy the idea of possibly giving this up at least until my legs healed.

My research led me to discover the work of American cardiologist Dr. Dean Ornish, who conducted exhaustive research into the causes of heart disease, and possible ways of halting or reversing the effects. Ornish concluded that a low-fat, strict vegetarian diet, together with regular exercise, meditation and yoga, could actually reverse the effects of heart disease, and according to some case studies, patients with much more advanced heart disease than mine have been able to come off their medication and lead normal active lives.

Can Dr. Ornish save your heart? I think he can.

This wouldn’t require much effort on my part, since I had already begun a pescatarian diet a few years ago, and the diet would only require tweaking since the modifications I’d done following high cholesterol readings two years ago. The diet requires abstinence from caffeine, but Rooibos tea and certain coffee alternatives are really quite pleasant, and as I’d done Buddhist meditation in the past, this was an excellent opportunity to resume the practice. Dr. Ornish has published his findings in a bestselling book, which details this diet, the exercise and meditations, and the reasoning behind them, so I bought the book and studied it intensely, and began the diet in early August.

This is my course of treatment from now onwards.

In October, I will be having another meeting with my cardiologist, when I will be discussing this course of action with him. it is my intention to not lose contact with the cardiology team, but instead to make sure they can monitor my progress, and see if it will be safe to take me off of any of my medication when I am well enough. My cholesterol readings were taken again recently, and were very healthy, being 3.45 (133 in US measurement), with healthy liver function, so I am already hoping that I can come off of my statins soon. I want to give this a good chance, but should I become symptomatic or, heaven forbid, get worse, then we will discuss the surgical option. I doubt that I will need this though, as I already feel much better, more energised, and I’ve already begun taking long walks as well as using my exercise machine on the maximum setting. I used to love walking on the local green chain routes in my spare time, and I am already very glad that I can do this once more. Here’s hoping that future posts on this topic will bring more good news!