Diagnosis
(Page 5)
The Angiogram
It would be two days later when my angiogram was performed at the Vancouver General Hospital (VGH). I was transferred via ambulance to VGH during the early morning of August 18, 2010. Waiting to be queued up, I was finally moved into the operating room in the early afternoon. There were 4 large, flat screen TV's facing the doctor just above the surgical bed, and a small room to the left with two assistants — separated by a large glass window — who helped with measurements as they injected dye into my arteries.
Coming from a technical background, I found the entire angiogram procedure quite interesting. I had a thousand questions, and everything seemed fascinating, right down to the mood of the operating room. A doctor walked in, called out, "music”, and within seconds Jim Morrison from the Doors filled the room's cold, white walls. I recalled the same atmosphere in a weekly TV series about two surgeons who often included operating room dialogue accompanied by music in the background. The resemblance was uncanny, and I could not help but smirk at the coincidence.
"Nip n' Tuck, right?", I said to the doctor as he approached the operating table. Along with everyone else, he paused and grinned, with others in the room bursting into laughter. They all knew the show, and they all appreciated my observation. But not so much when I suggested a change of music to "Kick start my heart" by Motley Crue, given the circumstances. The room went silent and colder than ever. It was a tough crowd, with no apparent die-hard Rock n' Roll fans...
The angiogram was performed with a local anesthetic, and since I was laying on the operating table at a slight angle, I could see the doctor inject the dye into my arteries. There was no pain, and within thirty minutes I was out of the operating room, waiting for the results. Eventually Dr. Wood showed up and gave me the breakdown. The skinny was that my worst artery was 20% blocked. Although there were three areas with this stenosis, 20% was considered minimal.
And therefore, this was a case of ‘good news — bad news’. The good news was that my arteries were in great condition and now I had proof. Contrary to many beliefs that all my life I did not eat healthy, my arteries showed otherwise. The bad news was that it was now highly probable my aortic valve was the cause of my minor heart attack. And that meant I would have to undergo open-heart surgery to correct the deficiency. Not something I was looking forward to, but once again I approached it from a technical perspective.
Most people take it for granted and could care less what the doctors do as long as they fix the problem. I, on the other hand, always preferred to know the intricate details. I knew very little about Aortic Valve Stenosis, but that was about to change. From that moment on my focus shifted to understanding my condition intimately, and thus making better decisions that were soon to follow.
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