Say what?

I had an interesting day at Brigham and Women's for my pre-op appointment Wednesday.

The scheduler at my doctor's office told me I could get there early for my 12:30 appointment in hopes of beating the Thanksgiving traffic and that they would try to squeeze me in. Uncharacteristically, I did get there early, around 11:30. The person at pre-op, however, wouldn't even let me sign in. She said that due to an emergency, they were about an hour and a half behind.

So I had to wait beside the sign-in sheet until 12:15, at which time I put my name down. The receptionist said that I should then go kill an hour and a half and she would call me on my cell phone when they were ready.

I decided to go up to the sixth floor to see if any of my nurses were around on 6A, where I got my transplant and where I was so sick.

And they were. It was pretty incredible. They remembered my room (12) and much about me. This was almost three years ago. I guess when you're there for 3 1/2 months and you nearly die, you make an impression. We talked for quite a while. One of my favorite nurses told me, "You just made my year." It's great to make someone's year.

Then I went to Au Bon Pain to get lunch. I had just started on a cup of soup when I got a call from the anesthesiologist saying they were ready. I was a little surprised, because it was 15 minutes before my time. "Put a cover on your soup and come right over," he said, sounding annoyed.

In going over my records, the anesthesiologist asked, "Do you know you have a leaky heart valve?"
Picture the look of surprise on my face. I had him repeat it. I asked when that turned up.

"In an echocardiogram in 2009," he said.

OKaaaaaay.

He said this condition is relatively common. It is rated mild, moderate and severe, and mine is moderate.

Now, nobody has EVER mentioned this to me.

I told him how active I am and how surprised I was. He told me to go discuss it with my internist, which I am not going to do. I plan to run it by Melissa, my nurse practitioner, sometime next week. Since it never came up, I am not concerned, just curious.

Anyway, I went over my history and my meds with the anesthesiologist and then went over the same exact stuff with a nurse. I got out around 4, chomping at the bit, as they say.

Katie met me there, and we drove home together. The traffic was pretty bad, but at least it was moving.

Everyone came for Thanksgiving, and the feast went off without a hitch. There's always something, so I was a little surprised when preparations were going so well. I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, but it never did.

I took out my mother's nice silver and special plates. Katie set a beautiful table. We lit the candles. Just as we were raising our glasses in thanks, Diane called. The machine picked up. "Happy Thanksgiving," Diane said. So she became part of the toast too. My parents would have smiled.