Just to give you a heads up, there will be unedited photos in this post that some people may find disturbing (I don't but I'm not super squeamish)
Exactly as they stated, the hospital called the afternoon before the surgery at 4:00 telling me to report at 6:30 AM for my scheduled start time of 8:00. My parents arrived shortly after and we enjoyed a nice dinner of trout with a yummy farro salad, along with a nice bottle of red wine to celebrate the last supper.
I slept pretty well but still managed to beat the 4:45 alarm I had set. My coffee consumption has slowed dramatically since the CAD was discovered, so not having a drop did not transform me into a megabeast like it might have six weeks prior. Vanessa and I arrived promptly to check-in and were escorted to the surgery prep area where we were greeted by a stream of doctors and nurses to sign forms, get an IV put in, get marked for artery and vein grafting sites and go over the plan for the day for me (They would give me a quick relaxing IV drug then wheel me to the OR where they would administer general anesthesia and fix me) and for her (wait around for them to call with updates and finally for the call that it was over and she could come see me in the ICU).
They were running slightly behind so we had plenty of time to sit and wait nervously. At 8:30 one of the anesthesiologists came and said it was time. Vanessa and I exchanged a final teary-eyed kiss and hug. They injected the relaxing "cocktail" in my IV and I instantly had one of the best buzzes I've ever felt. I remember going into the OR and seeing all of the lights and then everything went black.
Vanessa got the call from my surgeon, Dr. Pham, at 3:30 PM that the surgery was finished. They were in the process of sewing me back up. Then they would transfer me immediately to the ICU. Vanessa and my parents were allowed into my room at 4:30. I was still sedated and would remain that way until the ICU team felt I was ready to have my breathing tubes removed.
At around 5:30 they made the first attempt at removing the breathing tubes, but the carbon dioxide levels in my blood were still too elevated, so they held off. The first thing I can kind of remember was around 7:00 when I was reawakened to be interrogated and to remove the tubes. Prior to the surgery, I had not had the pleasure of being intubated or of being under general anesthesia. To prevent a patient from impulsively ripping out foreign devices from their body upon coming to, their hands are gently restrained to the rails of their hospital bed.
The ICU team was peppering me with questions and directions, but I had no way of communicating with them. I was trying in vain to communicate with them via my hands but no one was looking. I was growing increasingly frustrated when they finally said, "We are going to pull out the tube on 3. When the tube is out, you HAVE to cough several times as hard as you can to clear your throat of infectious material. 1. 2. 3!" They yanked the tubes out of my throat which was extremely painful...then I had to cough. It felt like Mike Tyson's iron fists were pummeling my chest. The doctors implored me to keep coughing and I meekly went along.
Over the next several hours I was in and out of sleep. Nurses and doctors were constantly streaming in and out of the room to check vitals, check how much urine was coming out of the catheter, check how much fluid was draining from the three tubes protruding from my chest and, most importantly to me, check on my pain levels. I have never been under the knife before and have never experienced any major injuries so the upper end of pain to this point was getting stitches a couple times as a child. On the 1-10 pain scale, my pain was running between 7 and 9 for the first 6 hours of consciousness and the only fluctuation was due to what point in the pain treatment cycle I was in. I was given pain meds every hour on the hour, alternating between fentanyl and dilaudid, and the relief was instantaneous. I was able to get about 20-30 minutes of opioid-aided sleep every hour the first night.
At 5:30 the next morning there were two occupational therapists there to greet me as I was waking up and my beloved painkillers were starting to wear off. "Time to get out of bed and in that chair." Just over 12 hours out of surgery and they were already getting my ass out of bed! They helped me sit up and swing my legs over the side of the bed and showed me how to rock my way to standing. After gingerly taking a couple of steps to the chair three feet away, I carefully sat down. Before I had even had breakfast (chicken broth and jello), they had me standing and marching in place. Let the healing begin!
For the rest of the morning and early afternoon, they were prepping me for the next level. The catheter tube was removed. I was weened off IV pain meds and put on the longer lasting (but not as strong) combination of hydrocodone and acetaminophen, taken orally. I learned I could walk by myself. Two of three chest drainage tubes were removed. I practiced deep breathing with my incentive spirometer to remove fluid from my lungs and help inflate them. At 3:00 the next day, less than 24 hours after major open heart surgery, I was transferred out of the ICU and into a normal hospital room.
I was thrilled when the kids got to the hospital to visit me (no children under 12 in ICU) that evening! We went for a quick walk as a family, which was without question the highlight of my hospital stay (except of course for leaving). The rest of the stay I improved steadily. I was able to sleep a little bit better now that I was out of ICU. My pain became much more manageable and I was soon able to get in and out of bed with little help. I was taken off oxygen, and all remaining devices and tubes were removed and I was able to walk totally unencumbered.
The next day I was discharged from the hospital around noon. I could not believe that I was going home less than 72 hours removed from quadruple bypass surgery. Going in to the surgery I was much more scared about the recovery than the actual surgery. After the first few days these are my thoughts: The first 12 hours after the surgery were harder and more painful than I thought they would be. The next 12 were about what I was expecting, challenging but making gains. The next 48 hours went remarkably smoothly. I was absolutely blown away by all the caregivers at Northwestern Hospital! It took a monumental effort to get me back to my home Sunday afternoon. They definitely had some help from everyone else out there who was sending thoughts, prayers, vibes, hugs, kisses and positive energy. Thank you everyone! The whole experience truly showed me the miracle of modern medicine.