Stepping on a treadmill with a heart monitor strapped to my chest, a light chill of anticipation rippled up my spine as I pushed the start button.  A new phase of my heart surgery journey had commenced.

In the scary days right after surgery, I tried to focus on the longer road ahead and not my immediate scary and painful circumstances.  Cardiac PT is considered the third distinct phase of recovery, following the immediate post op period in the hospital and then home rest and light activity.

PT is where you can propel yourself back to a “normal” life, the therapist says.  It’s when you start “cooking with gas”, a fellow heart warrior from a heart surgery support social media group said. (Yes, I’ve become glued to Facebook again, just to read posts from fellow travelers in the Aortic Surgery group!) 

Three times a week I show up at the University of Washington’s cardiac center to sit in on group activities such as stretching and (very) light weightlifting, followed by walking for 30 minutes.  The team monitors my heart rate, blood pressure and heart rhythm. 

My vitals have been 100% normal (knock on wood).  I am mystified why my heart rate runs at 15 to 20 beat per minutes higher than before I had the surgery, but apparently it’s a reflection of how hard my heart is working on healing!  (All my life my resting heart rate was in the 55 to 65 bpm range, but it runs 75 to 90 now!)  

A “workout” for me now means I walk until my heart rate gets to around 100-105 bpm.  This is how I roll these days, but I’m getting stronger each week.

In the consults leading up to surgery, the cardiac team at UW choreographed my journey from pre-op procedures through physical therapy, noted benchmarks for each stage, and signs to watch for progress.  With the major exception of the two scary events right after surgery, my experience coincides with their roadmap.  For that I am filled with gratitude. 

How about Some Emotional PT!

My cardio team also touched on emotional disturbances during my pre-op consults, for good reason.  A significant percentage of open-heart surgery patients experience the blues, the blahs, or other more severe emotional downturns post-surgery.  

I’d say my experience is a combination of the blahs and PTSD from the post-surgery incidents where I had to be rescued.  For a few weeks, nothing (and I mean nothing) was interesting.  The only food I could get excited about was rice and Earl Grey tea with creamer and a sugar.  Coffee beans suddenly smelled horrible thus my treasured morning ritual dance with my espresso machine ceased! 

Reading and watching TV was uninteresting.  Sitting in our beautiful backyard in perfect Seattle summer weather was itchy and boring.  It was all so weird.  I wouldn’t label it depression, but the psychological term “flat affect” might apply. (I’m no psychologist but the symptoms matched.)

The “spell” broke slowly as I got out of the house and met up with dear friends (thank you Sally, Kate, Dana and Mike!) and in general reintegrated a bit back into the world. I got a new perspective on the emotional experiences some people deal with.  I am happy it’s gone!

As to the PTSD, I’m still processing what it meant to have a literal squad of emergency medical professionals swarm your ICU room to intervene so you did not go into full blown cardiac arrest.  My logical brain rallies to the fact that I couldn’t have been in more capable hands.  The UW staff at Montlake is world class, and it showed. Thanks to a lot of dobutamine and an external pacemaker, they rescued me, and I am ok!

On the deeper level though, there is nothing more clarifying than the jarring realization that you may die imminently.  To say nothing of having it occur twice in a singularly horrible day.  To cry out for your best friend and life partner to let him know you love him and to tell the kids you love them more than life. To know that Bruce had to watch the entire horrifying episode unfold from a couch five feet from me.  Bless that man. He means everything to me. 

So I’ll keep on turning that experience over mentally for quite a while, but it’s ok.  It leads back to gratitude, the word of the day.  Open heart surgery “opened” me to a world of people committed to helping and healing the “broken hearts” like me and others.  My overall experience is supremely optimal compared with many in the chat groups who experience complications and more significant congenital complications than mine.

I am very thankful to be here, to learn and to grow.