My father had already planned my funeral just days after I was born.

 

Unbeknownst to my mother, he did this to spare her the heartache of having to. I always thought this was just about one of the most gracious acts of love I had ever heard of. I think by knowing this one particular thing about my dad, I knew how incredibly much he loved my mother.

While this may sound a bit weird and morbid, let me explain.

I was born earlier than most, and weighed just under a few pounds. Hours after my birth, the doctors explained to my parents that I had a rare birth defect that involved my esophagus and stomach. Back then, that was a huge deal, but now it’s probably fixed with a laser or something. Thank God for medical advances over the years, but basically, the doctors explained the extent of the surgery, and that I most likely wouldn’t survive it. Thus, the funeral plans.

But, SURPRISE! I pulled on through, and made it home after staying a few months in a Texas hospital. (The funeral plans were something we laughed and joked about often).

I was always smaller than the other kids. I can remember wearing a size “6X” forever, but other than a few bouts with asthma as a child, I was a healthy, (just little) girl.

Fast forward to age twenty-two, and another SURPRISE I gave my parents.

They were about to become grandparents!  “And, that’s not all!” (Spoken in the exuberant tone of a game show host), the father-to-be was the long-haired, heavy-metal drummer that I had been dating! (Another blog in itself)

I had taken one of my best friends with me to make this big announcement in hopes of keeping an untimely death, mine, from occurring.

But, needless to say, they not only welcomed, but adored their one and only granddaughter! (And eventually warmed up to her dad too).

Fast-forward a few months, and six more weeks later.

I am at my OBGYN appointment after having my daughter. My doc asks all the regular post birth questions and then proceeds to listen to my heart. He continues for several minutes and then looks me dead in the eye with a single raised eyebrow, (the ‘concerned look’ you see from soap opera doctors on tv) and says, “I’m hearing something I’ve never heard before, and it needs to get checked out.  I’m going to send you to see a cardiologist.”

Excuse me? What? What did you say? You’re sending me to a what?!

Last thing you expect at your six weeks OB visit after having your first baby. This time the SURPRISE was on me!

An appointment was scheduled with a cardiologist

(actually my mom’s, she had had a heart attack several years prior). I learned I had “mitral valve prolapse”. In other words, my mitral valve did almost like a ‘buckle down’ motion instead of meeting together and closing like it was supposed to with each heartbeat, creating the ‘click’ or murmur my OB doc heard. The gap in the valve allowed a small amount of blood to leak through, which, was not an issue. In fact, I was told a pretty good percentage of the population had a mitral valve prolapse, some not ever even knowing they had it. My prescript for this ailment was to see a cardiologist yearly, an echocardiogram very two years, and a prescribed antibiotic before dental procedures just to safeguard against bacterial infections to the heart. No biggie, never thought about it until it was time for the next yearly appointment.

About four years passed and our health insurance changed, forcing me to switch cardiologists and healthcare facilities, which was both good and bad.

The good was that the new facility had more up-to-date equipment than my previous doctor had been using. The bad was having to switch docs. I hated to lose mine. He was great.

I had my visit with the new cardiologist first and an echocardiogram scheduled afterwards. I went over all the past medical history questions with the new doc, along with the findings of the mitral valve prolapse after the birth of my daughter. I had also mentioned that my husband and I were now contemplating having a second child (yep, we tied the knot, I was no longer living with the long-haired heavy-metal-ist, but was now married to a short haired college student, and full time provider, who just listened to heavy metal).

I remember I wasn’t crazy at all about this doc. He was younger, and I remember he had red hair. Nothing against redheads, I think at that time I was maybe even a redhead myself. He had asked me a couple of questions I thought were irrelevant for a cardiologist to know.  He was odd. It was odd.  I just shrugged off the oddity and figured I could change docs later if I wanted to. After the office visit, I proceeded to have my echocardiogram done and was out the door until the next year. Or, so I thought.

The next day at work, I got a call from Dr. Redhead himself. I’ll never forget it.

He explained that not only did I have “MVP” but I had an “ASD”, (what’s with the initialisms that I don’t understand dude, come on? !) Before I could question him, he stated that I needed to have open-heart surgery “within the next three weeks” (three weeks? really?!) and then came these words out of his mouth: “It’s a wonder you didn’t go into cardiac arrest when you were pregnant the first time! You had better hope you aren’t pregnant right now! So what day did you want to schedule the surgery?”

Seriously?! Did you just call me up at my place of employment and say all this to me making me feel like a ticking time bomb?!  And with such tact, I might add!

I remember the other two phone lines ringing in my office after he so delicately told me of my impending doom. Thankfully, one was a salesman I knew, and the other was my mom.

SURPRISE!! Now, not only, do you have a leaking heart valve, but you also have a hole in your heart (the “ASD”), not to mention a redheaded psychopath that’s ready to slice you open within in the next “three weeks”!  What? Did he have a vacation or something coming up, or was there some ‘surgery commission’ (if that’s even a thing) he needed pretty quick?!  Come on, dude!

Regardless of the insurance change, I went back to my, and my mom’s, old doctor, for his opinion of this emergent situation.

Apparently, the echocardiogram machine in Dr. Redhead’s office offered newer technology and had a ‘color flow’ screen. The echo machine my previous doctor had used had been an older version, just black and white, not revealing the ASD (the atrial septal defect which was the hole in the wall of the upper chambers of my heart).

Even with the newest discovery of the ASD, both issues were still minor, only needing the previous directives of taking a pre med antibiotic before dental procedures and yearly cardiology visits. I got this same opinion from my old doc, plus two other cardiologists to be sure.

We carried on and were soon blessed with a bouncing baby boy!

As for Dr. Redhead, he disappeared, never to be heard from again!