After months of taking heart medications to see if they improved Lo's heart performance, new tests were given and the news was just as devastating. His heart was not showing progression. A decision had to be made by the cardiologists and they chose to sign Lo up for surgery so he could receive a bi-lateral ventricular defibrillator/pacemaker. The Cadillac of pacemakers we were told. The breathing issue was yet another mountain to climb as Lo was in the beginning stages of Congestive Heart Failure. His left lung had filled more than 1/2 way with fluid and the area around his lung had been compromised with fluid retention as well. He was put on Lasix (a water pill) and Potassium (which is lost from the body when one takes a water pill) immediately and an appointment was made to drain his lung and its surrounding parts. The heart surgery was scheduled, family contacted and prayers asked for.
A few days before the scheduled surgery we went into the hospital for the draining. To the doctor's surprise, the ultrasound couldn't detect additional fluid in the lung so the long needle was put back on the table and Lo and I went home feeling uncertainty. A cat scan was then scheduled by the Pulmonary doctor and it showed that much of the fluid had dissipated due to the Lasix but that Lo had a hernia in his diaphragm. I know that people say that God only gives us what we can handle but c'mon....really? More?
On Monday, Lo and I arrived at the hospital at 6:00 AM and he was prepped for surgery. His two aunts, his mom, a niece and three of his seven sisters stood with me overlooking his bed. One aunt put her hand on his head and prayed for a successful surgery. I kept telling everyone that it was a simple surgery and that his big, happy grin would be around for a long time. I had to be strong. Everyone had tears in their eyes and his poor mom was looking so anguished. I had to show strength for Lo as well. If I looked worried, then he would worry. The nurse came to wheel my beloved away and I chose to walk ahead of his family into the waiting room so they couldn't see my face. I was plagued with fear that I would lose this man that I loved so deeply. I wanted to lock myself in a small, comforting place but there was no where I could go. Knowing that we had around 1.5 hours, I instead chose to do what I do best...eat! I asked if anyone would like to get something in the cafeteria as I was hungry and two of the family members came along. As I sat down in the basement of the hospital and began to eat my cold eggs and rubbery sausage that I retrieved for myself out of the breakfast bar, the niece received a call from her mom upstairs. She handed the phone to me and I was asked to get upstairs as quickly as possible.
I cannot tell you what thoughts went through my mind as I struggled to walk on my swollen feet through endless hospital hallways. The other two were what seemed blocks ahead of me as I became angry with myself and my body for being so fat and in so much pain. When I reached the doctor I expected to be told that my beloved had died on the table and since he had listed me as his POA, that I had to make a decision. I collapsed in the seat next to the doctor and tried to keep my composure. His family was silent as they looked at the doctor and looked at me. I could have literally heard an earring drop to the floor at that moment.
The doctor told me he was cancelling the surgery. So many thoughts began to run through my mind. He will die for sure I thought. What can be done to help him? How can they do this? Was there something else? I began to feel water seep through my eyes and into the corners of my eyes.
The doctor explained that an EKG showed his heart displaying irregular patterns and in looking at how his heart functioning was so low and assessing that the chambers of the heart were not working together but rather fighting each other, the doctor ascertained that the defibrillator would end up killing Lo instead of helping him. I understood. I did. Then, I opened my mouth and as soon as I did, the flood gates to my eyes did as well. I bit my thumb and told the doctor that I didn't want Lo to die. I wanted at least 15-20 years with him. I knew that we wouldn't live a long life together but I wanted at least that. What could he do to make that happen?
The doctor was very clear with his words. Lose weight. Cut sodium, fat and sugar. Exercise. Go to the Heart Failure Clinic and begin a medicinal program to try to correct some of the problem with the heart. In time, more options will be looked at. I felt like those words were not only for Lorenzo but for me and my two children as well. We were all fat. None of us did cardio exercising. We all had to look in the mirror and see that we were unhealthy and that either of my kids or myself could be in Lo's place in five or ten years needing the same type of medical treatment if we didn't make a life style change immediately.
A few days before the scheduled surgery we went into the hospital for the draining. To the doctor's surprise, the ultrasound couldn't detect additional fluid in the lung so the long needle was put back on the table and Lo and I went home feeling uncertainty. A cat scan was then scheduled by the Pulmonary doctor and it showed that much of the fluid had dissipated due to the Lasix but that Lo had a hernia in his diaphragm. I know that people say that God only gives us what we can handle but c'mon....really? More?
On Monday, Lo and I arrived at the hospital at 6:00 AM and he was prepped for surgery. His two aunts, his mom, a niece and three of his seven sisters stood with me overlooking his bed. One aunt put her hand on his head and prayed for a successful surgery. I kept telling everyone that it was a simple surgery and that his big, happy grin would be around for a long time. I had to be strong. Everyone had tears in their eyes and his poor mom was looking so anguished. I had to show strength for Lo as well. If I looked worried, then he would worry. The nurse came to wheel my beloved away and I chose to walk ahead of his family into the waiting room so they couldn't see my face. I was plagued with fear that I would lose this man that I loved so deeply. I wanted to lock myself in a small, comforting place but there was no where I could go. Knowing that we had around 1.5 hours, I instead chose to do what I do best...eat! I asked if anyone would like to get something in the cafeteria as I was hungry and two of the family members came along. As I sat down in the basement of the hospital and began to eat my cold eggs and rubbery sausage that I retrieved for myself out of the breakfast bar, the niece received a call from her mom upstairs. She handed the phone to me and I was asked to get upstairs as quickly as possible.
I cannot tell you what thoughts went through my mind as I struggled to walk on my swollen feet through endless hospital hallways. The other two were what seemed blocks ahead of me as I became angry with myself and my body for being so fat and in so much pain. When I reached the doctor I expected to be told that my beloved had died on the table and since he had listed me as his POA, that I had to make a decision. I collapsed in the seat next to the doctor and tried to keep my composure. His family was silent as they looked at the doctor and looked at me. I could have literally heard an earring drop to the floor at that moment.
The doctor told me he was cancelling the surgery. So many thoughts began to run through my mind. He will die for sure I thought. What can be done to help him? How can they do this? Was there something else? I began to feel water seep through my eyes and into the corners of my eyes.
The doctor explained that an EKG showed his heart displaying irregular patterns and in looking at how his heart functioning was so low and assessing that the chambers of the heart were not working together but rather fighting each other, the doctor ascertained that the defibrillator would end up killing Lo instead of helping him. I understood. I did. Then, I opened my mouth and as soon as I did, the flood gates to my eyes did as well. I bit my thumb and told the doctor that I didn't want Lo to die. I wanted at least 15-20 years with him. I knew that we wouldn't live a long life together but I wanted at least that. What could he do to make that happen?
The doctor was very clear with his words. Lose weight. Cut sodium, fat and sugar. Exercise. Go to the Heart Failure Clinic and begin a medicinal program to try to correct some of the problem with the heart. In time, more options will be looked at. I felt like those words were not only for Lorenzo but for me and my two children as well. We were all fat. None of us did cardio exercising. We all had to look in the mirror and see that we were unhealthy and that either of my kids or myself could be in Lo's place in five or ten years needing the same type of medical treatment if we didn't make a life style change immediately.
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