I go in for my Transesophageal Echocardiogram (TEE Test) today at 3 at Methodist Hospital downtown. I had a big breakfast because I can’t eat 5 hours before the test, since they stick a tube down my throat to do an ultrasound from inside my body. They also have to sedate me, so Stephanie’s coming with me for the test so she can ask intelligent questions (which I’ve written down) and drive me home, since I’ll be loopy. After the test I should know a lot more about my condition, including when I would need to have surgery and what recovery will be like.
The main question I want to ask is whether I have to have open heart surgery, or if I can do some of the other heart catheterization surgeries that they’re doing for valve repair. I don’t deny I need to have something done, but if I can avoid having them crack me open like a walnut, I’d prefer that. I know Dr. Yee said that they couldn’t do the less invasive surgery because there are two valves, but I want them to go into detail about that.
I also want to know a lot about the surgeon. Like a complete biography, and how many times they’ve done the surgery. And if they’ve ever had someone die on the operating table. Because if this is someone who’s going to drastically alter the course of my life, I don’t want it to be some stranger I meet the day before and then never see them again.
It’s strange, because first I feel much better about this whole thing, but then I’ll get scared and start crying at really weird times, like right before going into a meeting at work. Which is just so graceful. I pick the strangest, most inconvenient times to fall apart.
There are some things I’ve done to prepare for all this though. Since I’ll be preoccupied and won’t be able to write regular scathing remarks about how retarded George Bush is, I took my little flight suit George Bush doll and hung him upside down and stuck pins in him. Not in anyplace vital, just his knees and elbows and stuff. That should hold him until I feel better. If we find out Bush suddenly has erectile dysfunction, you know who to blame.