SON-OF-A-BITCH. Am I glad that's over.

The speed with which all this has happened was dizzying. Now, six weeks post-surgery, I feel almost human again. I've gotten stronger every day and have a little less pain and discomfort each day. I can see that there is an end in sight.

I did not have an out-of-body experience. I did not see angles. I had no moral or religious epiphany, nor did I make any promises I can't keep.

Mistakes

A hospital is a ponderous, slow, clusterfuck of a bureaucracy. It's a wonder that any of us survive a hospital stay, or that anything even gets done. It seems to me that they spend more time trying to cover their asses than providing patient care. If they got it right the first time, they wouldn't have to spend so much time protecting against malpractice. As an example, I was told I was doing wonderfully well after surgery. In fact, I was scheduled to go home after only three days. On the third day, however, I seemed to have some fluid around my right lung. I was sent to an intervention radiologist, whatever that is. With the aid of an x-ray, he stuck a very long needle in my back to drain the fluid. BUT HE MISSED! He nicked the lung and punctured it. They took me back upstairs, but I was having a great deal of difficulty breathing. Later that day, they took me back to the same doctor who then inserted a chest tube to re-inflate my lung. I was finally able to breath a little better.

On each occasion, the x-ray people verified my identity and did all of their other little crap. BUT THEY PUNCTURED MY LUNG! Get it right the first time!

Notwithstanding being pissed off in the hospital, I was certainly happy to be home...albeit two days late. My happiness even translated to me walking around the house and singing stupid jingles that were stuck in my head. (Maybe it was a combination of the drugs along with just being happy to be alive). My wife swears that they put another heart in me...or at the very least took the sonofabitch part of the old one out. With five bypasses, they may have just bypassed the sonofabitch part. Nonetheless, it occurred to me that I don't care if the hospital tries to screw the insurance companies. I also don't care if the insurance companies try to screw the hospitals. They are both big boys and the playing field is level. My objection is when either or both of them try to screw us—the patient.

Quick Discoveries

The speed with which discoveries and decisions were made still has me reeling. It all seems surreal. My leg and my hip hurt for years before I went to the doctor. I was treated for various ailments (the bursa in my hip and cartilage in my knee) before it was determined that a hip replacement was what had to be done. I was able to schedule the surgery six months away. It all gave me the time to adjust to what was going on. It gave me the time to "get my head right." And I did. I prepared my mind for what was to happen. As a result, I did wonderfully well. I worked hard as hell at rehab to try and make it better than before. Thereafter, I was able to compete as a powerlifter. On the other hand, a friend of mine who had the same surgery as me, at the same time, still walks with a limp. YOU HAVE TO DO THE WORK! Any surgery only corrects a defect. The surgery only allows you to do the work, which is what makes it better.

Generosity

We don't realize how great family and friends can be until we give them a chance to demonstrate it. Everyone has been wonderful. My sister came down from Reston, Virginia, when I got home and was invaluable. My daughter cooked and took me to the doctor when my wife had to work. My son came over and WI-fied my house and bought me a Kindle because I couldn't get upstairs to the computer. My brother visited and, upon noticing that I could not use my recliner because I couldn't get in and out of it, showed up at my house the next day with an electric recliner that does too many things to describe. He couldn't find what he wanted in Charlotte that day and went to a furniture manufacturer in Greensboro (100 miles away) for the right chair. Last but not least, my wife, who is not a natural caregiver, has busted her ass to make sure I'm OK and have everything I need. With a few books, my Kindle, and my new chair, I'm set.

Cardiac rehab orientation was interesting and informative. If they stay true to their word, each participant has his own nurse, one-on-one. Over the course of 36 sessions, each person's goals are targeted. It is my plan to take and complete the entire course and give it at least 110%. Thereafter, it's back to the gym to begin training for the next meet. I have hated writing these "Break in The Action" articles, simply because there has been no powerlifting action. Now, however, I have a plan. Even the doctors seem OK with it.

Now, if you will please excuse me, I have some damn hard work to do!