A new lease on life…

We wandered through a tiny town after another, often finding this style of row houses on narrow roads.  Banners fly in the main part of town where the shops and restaurants are located.

I can walk. I can climb the stairs. My hands don’t shake. My legs don’t swell. I can breathe more deeply. I can bend over to pick something up off the floor when I suffered dearly in attempting to do so over this extended period. I was no longer sleepy at 10:00 am, about when the drugs kicked in, having taken them at 7:00 am.

Three drugs no longer fill my little pill case; a statin (Crestor), Amiodarone, and Bisoprolol, and the side effects of each are rapidly being released from my system.  

I won’t get on my Big Pharma soapbox here. Each person must do what is best for them. Please, do not stop any of these or other medications without consulting with your medical professional. In some cases, alternative medicine may be beneficial for a patient’s heart condition.

Suddenly, there would be an opening through which we could savor the view.

No, I am not an expert on this topic nor other medical issues. But, I decided to take my own life into my own hands, as risky as it may have been since I knew if I didn’t, the remainder of my life, albeit short, would have been as a frail, shaky, unsteady pain-ridden individual.  

Perhaps the final road to my full recovery is yet in the future. My right thigh still has a painful hematoma that requires sleeping with a pillow between my knees. The remainder of the horrific wound on my lower left leg still has a way to go to recover fully but is doing well. The incision in my chest continues to be painful to the touch and may hurt during specific movements.

Many of these attached properties are actually single-family homes.

On occasion over these past five days, I feel a little breathless, but it passes quickly. This is normal in the first year after bypass surgery. I don’t panic, and I relax to find breathing easier a few minutes later. In time, all of this will pass simply through the healing process, but at least drugs aren’t paralyzing me.

Tom and I discussed what would have happened had I not weaned off these drugs. I would have been wandering through my life in a haze of exhaustion, pain, immobility, and despair.

Boat lift in Maylor, Cornwall.

One of the most common residual effects of bypass surgery is PTSD, anxiety, and depression. The trauma to one’s psyche as well as their body is astounding.  Somehow, although I felt anxious at times, I wasn’t depressed nor had symptoms of PTSD. I was sick from drugs.

Although I didn’t have the daily face-to-face support of family and friends, I had Tom at my side.  He never wavered in his attentive care and emotional support.  He did everything for me. Now, I’m attempting to encourage him to let me do things for myself, carry a grocery bag, cook a meal or lift anything over five pounds.  

Yes, it will take time to rebuild my muscles and build strength and stamina.  Here in Falmouth, the house is too small for indoor walking, and it’s raining outdoors.  

Thank you to all of our readers who have stood beside me during this lengthy struggle. I apologize for perpetually discussing this topic. When I didn’t, many readers would inquire, wondering how I was doing. Now, I can let this go, and if anything changes, good or not-so-good, I will share it here.

“They,” say writing down how you feel is vastly therapeutic. I’ve always had a voice. I always had YOU! Could it be that I averted depression by being able to share what I was going through with all of you?