Operation: Aortic Freedom
Well, I'm sure I've worn out the suspense by now, and it's time I come clean. I (well, and Hubby) are preparing ourselves for the biggest medical decision I have made in my life. I am having open-heart surgery in just a little more than two weeks.
I have a condition called Marfan Syndrome. No one ever recognizes that name until I tell them its what "they" thought that Abraham Lincoln had. It's a connective tissue disorder that affects many aspects of your body. It's why I'm so tall (6'2") and thin. Yes, I know, I should have modeled. But I have ... my leg appeared once in Time Magazine when I was an intern there and they used it to illustrate sunless tanners. It's also why I'm double-jointed, am near-sighted and a host of other things. But the biggest characteristic of Marfan Syndrome is that the aorta, or main artery leading away from the heart, can enlarge and tear or dissect.
I've known I had Marfan Syndrome since I was 3 years old, so I don't remember a time that I didn't know I had it. And up until recently, my mom was the only other person I knew with it. She passed away from an aortic dissection in 2000 because she was too scared to have the surgery. And that's what brings me to today. They will go in and replace the part of my aorta that is enlarged.
I'm having it because I don't want to be scared. I want to live. I want to love my husband. I want to start a family. I want laugh with my friends. I want to go further in my career. And I want to grow old. With my husband. I want to sit on our porch swing at 80 years old (probably somewhere in Colorado if he has his way) and look back at this decision as the wisest one I have ever made.
And I think it is. It's less risky for me to do the surgery than to wait it out and see what happens. My surgeon has a 100% success rate, and has done 130 of the procedure.
But I'm still scared.
I'm also sad. I'm sad because this means I could possibly miss my best friend's wedding. I'm going to try my hardest to be there, but I hate the thought of sitting at home while she is experiencing one of the most important days of her life. It's my job to be there to fix her veil and train, and to offer my friendship as she marries that man she loves.
I'm scared to miss that, too.
Ultimately, I know things will work out. I know I'm going to be okay, and I know Nikki will be okay if I'm not there.
I'm still scared.
I have a condition called Marfan Syndrome. No one ever recognizes that name until I tell them its what "they" thought that Abraham Lincoln had. It's a connective tissue disorder that affects many aspects of your body. It's why I'm so tall (6'2") and thin. Yes, I know, I should have modeled. But I have ... my leg appeared once in Time Magazine when I was an intern there and they used it to illustrate sunless tanners. It's also why I'm double-jointed, am near-sighted and a host of other things. But the biggest characteristic of Marfan Syndrome is that the aorta, or main artery leading away from the heart, can enlarge and tear or dissect.
I've known I had Marfan Syndrome since I was 3 years old, so I don't remember a time that I didn't know I had it. And up until recently, my mom was the only other person I knew with it. She passed away from an aortic dissection in 2000 because she was too scared to have the surgery. And that's what brings me to today. They will go in and replace the part of my aorta that is enlarged.
I'm having it because I don't want to be scared. I want to live. I want to love my husband. I want to start a family. I want laugh with my friends. I want to go further in my career. And I want to grow old. With my husband. I want to sit on our porch swing at 80 years old (probably somewhere in Colorado if he has his way) and look back at this decision as the wisest one I have ever made.
And I think it is. It's less risky for me to do the surgery than to wait it out and see what happens. My surgeon has a 100% success rate, and has done 130 of the procedure.
But I'm still scared.
I'm also sad. I'm sad because this means I could possibly miss my best friend's wedding. I'm going to try my hardest to be there, but I hate the thought of sitting at home while she is experiencing one of the most important days of her life. It's my job to be there to fix her veil and train, and to offer my friendship as she marries that man she loves.
I'm scared to miss that, too.
Ultimately, I know things will work out. I know I'm going to be okay, and I know Nikki will be okay if I'm not there.
I'm still scared.
posted by Kristen at 3:44 PM
5 Comments:
Wow, I would be just like you. As much as your brain knows the risk is low, your adrenaline pump still wants to be scared. I like the sound of that 130 and "oh" track record. Good luck!
Andrew
To Love, Honor and Dismay
It will all be OK. We love you and will be thinking about you!
I got here through Nikki's blog...just wanted to let you know that I have 2 friends w/ Marfan's syndrome, one of which has had the surgery. He felt SO much better afterwards - he said he didn't realize how bad he felt until he woke up from surgery and realized how GOOD it felt. Good luck with your surgery - your surgeon has a great track record, and you are incredibly brave to choose this! You will recover marvelously!
You are totally going to kick heart surgery's ass! I know because I fully plan to be chillin' with you and J on the porch in Colorado when we're 80. :-)
I'm really sorry to hear about the necessity of the operation and especially that it became a pressing issue right now. It sucks how frequently good things are juxtaposed with bad things happening too. I'll be thinking of you and wishing you good health as the big day approaches.
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