Naturally, I wouldn’t wish heart disease on anyone, but it is kind of nice to read accounts of others going through the same thing at approximately the same time. Especially when they have the wit and wherewithal of biology professor and noted skeptic blogger PZ Myers. His posts on My lost weekend and A fistful of stents were familiar echoes. The latter one, about his PTCA, is hilarious.
I don’t believe I was nearly that out of it during mine. Sure there’s some kind of relaxing agent in that IV (not bothering to look up what exactly it was), but I recall talking lucidly to the interventionist before, during, and after. And watching the radiography monitors as best I could, from a poor angle. I’m pretty sure I didn’t nap.
Of course, it’s super annoying that I’m not just twenty-some days ahead of PZ on this matter, but more like 16 years — he’s 53, I’m 37. And this wasn’t my first time. The good news is that, 42 days out, I still feel great, I’m adjusting dietary habits effectively, and I’m shedding weight steadily. You never know what’s going to kill you, or when. If there’s one positive spin on chronic disease, it provides a clear, likely threat and thus something to manage.
Nothing is built on stone; all is built on sand, but we must
build as if the sand were stone.
— Jorge Luis Borges
P.S., unlike PZ, I like cabbage. But I’m terrified of CABG.