A diary of heart valve surgery

I decided to write this diary to explain to other people what to expect when they are diagnosed as needing heart surgery.

I had no idea of all the procedures that this would entail, or all the medical staff you meet and are treated by. I had no idea what to expect when - after the operation - you are transferred to the Intensive Care Unit. I wondered what the after-effects of the heart operation would be.

So I hope my diary is of some use to you and will put your mind at ease. There will be some discomfort, but the medical staff do their best to lessen the pain. They have your best interests at heart!

When I arrived for my appointment with my cardiologist, a nurse asked me to have an ECG test and weighed me. I then waited to see the cardiologist.

He seemed a brisk, efficient, type of man and came straight to the point, asking what my symptoms were. So I replied, “breathlessness, especially up hills, constant dizziness and light-headedness”.

It took a few seconds to register what he’d just said. An operation... I never expected that as the outcome.

Dr Cooper then explained the different types of valves that could be used and the general nature of the operation. He said he’d also want me to have an angiogram, to make sure there wasn’t any other problems with my heart, then launched into an explanation of the angiogram procedure and all that it entailed.

I came out of the consultation shocked and stunned, with lots of new medical information whizzing round my head.

I walked down the long “way out” corridor and just wanted to cry…

We set off at 6.30am for the hospital, to be there in good time for the angiogram procedure.

When we arrived I was taken to the ward along with seven other men and women who were having the same procedure.

A nurse filled in our admission forms and then we were given a large jug of water and a glass, and asked to drink it all during the morning.

Apparently the nurse said we were all ‘good drinkers’. I thought we all must be, as there was a constant plod of us back and forth to the toilet!

I was surprised at the cumbersome protective clothing the staff have to wear to perform angiograms. On a warm June day, they must have been boiling.

When it was my turn to go in for it and I had got settled on the trolley, Dr Cooper said I could watch the dye reach my heart on the monitor, if I so wished. I declined politely.

The outcome of the angiogram was that there were no further complications with my heart. I thought the aortic valve replacement was enough, and was thankful that nothing else was needed.

I was told to make sure I rested during the next couple of days to let the groin site - where the dye had been injected - settle down again.

I arrived at hospital for yet another appointment. This time I was to meet the surgeon who was to perform the operation.
Unlike the cardiologist, the surgeon was much quieter and more serious in demeanour.

I watched him stir his tea and deposit the teabag onto the saucer, before he really started to discuss the seriousness of the operation. With gravity, he told me all the risks, looking straight at me.

Once again set off on a lovely sunny, warm day for hospital, ready for the operation. I had mixed feelings - nervousness, yet glad I was going to get the heart problem sorted out.

We arrived in good time and I was given a room, with a shower, to myself. That was a surprise in itself. I thought I’d be on a ward with other ladies.

After my husband returned home I had several of the operation team visiting me and explaining what to expect for tomorrow. I signed the consent form.

My surgeon was my last visitor. He explained the best type of valve to put in would be the tissue one. It has about a 15-year life span. As I suffer from rheumatoid arthritis, he thought this would be the best option, rather than have a mechanical one and be on warfarin for the rest of my life. So I was quite happy to go along with his judgement.

Later in the evening, the nurse brought me two cups of water, which I was to sip during the night.

I rang my husband and elder daughter to let them know I was second on the list and would be going to be operated on at about 1pm. Then I settled myself down for the night, hoping and praying all would be well tomorrow.

I kept coming in and out of consciousness, aware that someone kept calling my name and asking me to wake up. So I worked out that thankfully, I was still alive.

I remember being given a bed bath by the night staff. One of the nurses commented on the lovely smell of soap she was using on me. They were very brisk with the bed bath and soon had me freshened up. They then helped me into my chair. Wow! My legs were like ton weights.

A little later on in the morning, a new daytime nurse came on duty and put some white anti-thrombosis stockings on me.

They were really tight to put on. I thought, “There’s going to be no way I’ll be able to get them on and off at home. My husband or daughter will have to do the honours.”

My named nurse was lovely: most thorough, organised and very kind.

Later in the morning, the surgeon came round and reported the operation had gone well and he’d fitted a 23mm valve. He was happy with my progress.

The next visitor was the physio. Again she was a lovely, cheerful young lady. She gave me a ‘spiro-ball’ for my breathing exercises, that I had to use hourly, and showed me some arm and neck exercises to do, and I had to frequently rotate my ankles. Her last parting gift was a rolled towel. I was to hug this to my chest if I felt I needed to cough, to make coughing less uncomfortable on my chest.

During the afternoon some drains were taken out and I was given gas and air to help cope with the pain.

I asked the nurse if she’d contact the priest to visit me and sure enough he appeared and gave me a blessing and said he’d come back with communion on Saturday. Lovely.

My first meal was painful to swallow. I really needed to chew an awful lot before swallowing and even then you could still feel it going down. I hoped that sensation was not going to last.

That night I went back to bed at about 8pm, very tired. I had a poor night; I just couldn’t get cool and comfortable. My night named nurse was really patient trying to get me comfortable.

My blood pressure alarm kept going off whenever I moved my arm, he was up and down from his desk readjusting the machine. He must have been worn out by the end of his night shift.

Up around 7:30am. Washed myself as much as possible, with help from the nurses. I was helped into my chair and could move my legs much better than yesterday.

I feel very bloated and I’ve still not had a bowel movement. Probably this is due to the after-effects of the anaesthetic. I will be glad when that particular problem is resolved! In hospital one’s life seems to pivot round the correct workings of our natural functions.

Still not much appetite, but I tried to eat a little. My throat is still a bit sore, but not as bad as yesterday, thankfully.

Round about 10am the pleasant physio came again. This time she was concentrating on getting me walking, with the help of her and two other nurses. I managed to shuffle half way round the ward, waving at other patients as I went.

Then after that session the surgeon and anaesthetist came to see how I was progressing. They both seemed pleased with my improvement and they said I would be moving onto a new ward soon. The surgeon also said that my catheter could be taken out so that I could function more normally. Hurrah!

In the afternoon my husband, Alan, came armed with cards and fresh news. It was great to see him. Also the priest came again and brought me communion.

At 2.30am, with the help of the night nurse, I walked slowly to the toilet and had great success! Feel better. Functioning normally again, thank goodness.

At breakfast time I managed a Weetabix and enjoyed it.

After breakfast I felt tired and so had a nod in my chair. Just before lunch I was transported down to the cardiology ward; first impressions very favourable. Once again I had a room to myself and en-suite. But best of all a window I could open - fresh air!

I was welcomed by my new named nurse and then had tea on a stainless steel tray, with tea pot etc, brought to me by the ward ‘housekeeper’. She was another really pleasant and welcoming lady.

Moments later, Alan and Cathy, my younger daughter, arrived and relayed all the latest local news. It was great to see them.

After they returned home I had a meal, which I could now face and quite enjoy, as I was firing now on all cylinders!

I tried reading in my chair, but kept nodding off so got on top of the bed and had two hours sleep. I must have needed it. After awakening, I went round the ward to explore and practice walking. It had six patient bays or bedrooms, a day room where there were loads of ‘thank you’ cards pinned on the walls, a nurses’ station, kitchen and some medical store rooms.

I hope I manage to sleep better tonight…

A new physio came after breakfast, to show me how to walk up and down the stairs in readiness for going home. She also told me that a cardiac rehabilitation nurse will contact me to start me on more exercises when I’m a little more recovered.

I managed to keep the awful white stockings on all night. I just kept yanking at the toe area to alleviate the pressure. It must be because of my oddly bent toes, that I have pain with them.

I noticed this morning that my hearing has become a bit muffled. Again, I hope it’s not a lasting thing and just temporary.

A health care assistant weighed me - my weight has gone down a bit. That’s not surprising, as I’m not eating the same amount I used to.

The physio told me I won’t be able to drive for about 12 weeks and then it’s after I’ve seen the surgeon. Apparently the breast bone has to be well healed before you drive.

Later on during the day more drains and lines were taken out. Some were getting nicely embedded in my flesh. I had to breathe in and hold my breath whilst they took them out. After that was completed, the nurses put me on the ECG machine for four hours to monitor how my heart was doing. I was actually glad of a rest and lie down.

The pharmacist popped in to check all my tablets. So many different medical personnel pop in and check this and that, that it’s hard to keep track. They certainly look after you. Each night after tea I’m given a stomach injection. I think it’s an anti-thrombosis injection. It’s obviously doing the trick.

After I’d had a lovely doze in the chair, catching up on lost sleep, I had another little wander around the ward. Apparently I’m supposed to walk as much as possible, which is no hardship to me as I love walking. As yet of course I haven’t got back into my stride. But I’m certainly happily practising.

Had a good, long phone call from my elder daughter Lizzie tonight. She said she’d be glad when I’m back home and she can see me. Hospitals are not her forte, so I look forward to seeing her when I return.

Wonder what kind of sleep I’ll manage tonight. Hope it will be better than last night’s.