Operation Pimp My Pump™

Well, the deed is done. Stage one of Pimp My Pump™. A quadruple bypass at Auckland Hospital last Monday. I had intended to update the blog a little sooner, but the truth is the procedure kind of knocked the stuffing out of me for the best part of the week and the effect of hours of anesthetic was to turned me into a zombie (but at least I was alive).


I won't dwell on the procedure*. As far as I am concerned they shaved me, wheeled me in, squirted happy juice into my system…and that was all she wrote. It's funny, years ago (2003?) I mocked up a print magazine as a companion for eMale, a website I owned - It's purpose was to package health information for men by sugar coating it with male oriented general interest, (ironic?). The cover story was The Wake Up Call and feature a picture of the comedian Rodney Dangerfield that had been published in Esquire magazine. Dangerfield looks pensively at his bypass scar and in the Esquire article he says:

I recently had double-bypass surgery. As they wheel you in, the doctor always gives you a last look. You know that look. That look of confidence to make you feel good. I always say to every doctor, "If I don't make it, I'll never know it."

I woke after 12 hours and, so I am told insisted that:

a) the nurses on the ward had better be cute and
b)I be immediately taken to the movies.

So I was as delusional as ever.

The land of the living
I had returned to my senses a little by the next day. nurses were keen to get me out of bed and seated in a chair. Sounds easy enough. My first attempt was pretty tricky. Getting vertical for a moment caused me to pass out. But these days laying around in bed isn't the way to recover. The following day that was exactly what I wanted to do. I still had a 'central line' running into my jugular and hadn't slept more than an hour at a time or been able to eat more than a mouthful of baked beans. The prospect of eating anything made me feel nauseous.

The next day the door opened a little and I was able to walk (albeit slowly) to the toilet and to shower - seated - by myself. I had to consciously decide to eat, regardless of how I felt about it. I figured that my body needed some resources to heal the wounds.

One of the things that shocked me were the surgical wounds on my inner thighs - running on my left leg from groin to just above the knee and slightly shorter on my right thigh. I look as though a large shark has tried to bite by tackle off. I'm told the wounds are actually a nice clean job. I realise my legs weren't insured for millions like Rihanna's but, while I was prepared for the chest wound, these caught me by surprise.

By Day 4 I was feeling stronger and more confident. Sleeping pills helped me get some rest at night and food gave me strength. By Day 5 I was ready to go home (Don't tell anyone but I was able to dress and sneak out to have lunch with my ex-wife and daughter in Newmarket - a spicy Thai Tom Yum soup - my first meal with any flavour for three weeks).

All a blur
I developed a problem with my vision following the surgery - blind spots and after images. The surgeon thought it would best to stay in the hospital, rather than going home, then attending an appointment with the eye clinic at Greenlane. It was probably good thing to take a couple more days.

The interesting thing about the visual disturbance is that it turns out to probably be the result of tiny blood vessels in my eyes relaxing as the result of lowering of my blood pressure. This is another reason to have your blood pressure checked. Uncontrolled blood pressure not only affects your heart, but also eyes, renal system (kidneys), can cause headaches, sleep apnea and impotence (I'm guessing I have your attention now, right?).

So - I am coming right. It is amazing how quickly changes have taken place.

I came home on Monday. Chilled for the rest of the day and got used to the idea of attending to my own needs. It felt good. My son, the comic, brought me brass bell to ring if I felt a seizure coming on. Tempting to use it when I feel a cup of green tea coming on…(seem to have lost my taste for tea and coffee-not sure if that is common or whether it is simply to by-product of being served disgusting tea and coffee in the hospital).

Weighty Issues
When I went into the hospital I was a heavyweight at 91 kilograms, after two weeks in bed I weighted 88kgs. Following the surgery I was back to 91, which was mostly made up with retained fluid - not uncommon. Diuretic tablets solved the water retention and I have dropped down to 86kgs. In truth I have a few more pounds to loose. That's another sign that you might have a problem gentlemen - carrying a little extra pounds around your gut.

I'm back on my feet. Been home four days, been in the office (briefly) the past two, had lunch with friends, and spent a little time at a recording studio where my friend the musician Monique Rhodes is recording top kiwi artists for a charity Christmas album. I'm getting around with just a little discomfort. The sprained ankle I gave myself in North Shore hospital gives me more grief than any thing else.

I've arranged a publisher for Pimp My Pump - the book and I'm setting up a charitable trust for men's heart health education. I'll fill you in with more details later.

The message is simple…

If you are:

a) Male
b) 35 - 50

Make an appointment to see your doc. Get a heart check - blood pressure, cholesterol, family history. In most cases there won't be a problem. But if you you get it early you won't have to go through the rigmarole I have - and believe me, I would rather not have.

If you have any interest in how by-pass surgery is done then there here is a blow by blow video.
If that doesn't convince you to get a heart check. Nothing will.