The Tide

My chest feels like its caving in,
The thoughts they swirl inside my head.

Not again, not again, not again...

In and out, I coach myself,
Just let your breath flow free -

But the release catches short,
And the tears clench within me.

... not again, not again, not again.

The tide is rises and it falls,
Carrying my hearts with its waves -

The shore ahead looks brash,
And I fear the crash will break -

Not again, not again, not again.

In and out, I remind myself,
Just let your breath flow free -

And as the waves begin to crest,
I surrender and find rest.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Now I'm floating out to sea,
Unscathed and happy as can be.

Fear

What is fear? And how is it holding you back?

- - - -

Recently, Aortic Hope hosted a Virtual Support Group featuring a Live Q&A session with Dr. Crawford from the University of Maryland Medical Center. The session focused on post procedure/surgery care.

What I noticed, as I was monitoring content behind the scenes, was that more than one fear based questions arose. Now, I can only comment on these specific questions because I have lived them myself and I have asked them myself.

Which is why I feel called to bring this topic up of fear.

- - - -

So... what is fear?

According to Google, fear is an unpleasant emotion caused by the belief that someone or something is dangerous, likely to cause pain, or a threat.

If you're reading this, I'm going to go ahead and assume that at some point in your life, you have experienced fear. You may be feeling it right now. In my world, that is extremely common.

However, the key - the secret, if you will - to not only conquering your fears, but preventing them altogether is where I'd like to steer this conversation.

So, we all know that fear is an unpleasant emotion. But how is it holding you back?

Fear cannot live in a loving environment. The more you learn to love yourself, the less that fear can live inside of you. The more in tune you are with yourself, the more your body is going to begin instantly making you aware of your needs moment by moment. Now, does this mean that fear will not arise? Of course not. However, what it means is that you become bigger than the fear. You take back the control.

- - - -

"Love yourself fiercely, for fear cannot enter."

Today is a good day.

My long-distance Swedish friend, and fellow aortic survivor Timo, likes to say "today is a good day." The first time I read the phrase in one of his post cards, the words didn't really sink in. But after a few months, and continuous inspiration from my pal, I started to use the saying myself. At first, I didn't even notice that I had been doing so. But when the pattern became apparent, I wanted to embrace it. Today is a good day, as Timo declares, because today is a day at all. That small and simple statement is often over-looked in today's society. There are so many distractions to begin believing that we are invincible. But, for those of us that have been affected by life altering situations and/or circumstances, we know [sometimes fearfully so] that we are not. Because today is all that we have. And the realization of that thought is where the blessing lies.

So, you can either take this day, and allow it's overwhelming burdens to weigh you down, or you can find the good in it. Personally, I need to stop getting so caught up in the details. I worry and stress unnecessarily because I crave this un-perfectable perfection that doesn't truly exist. What does exist is this very moment, this very breath, this very special moment of existence. It may be un-perfectly perfect, but that is ok.

The Story

There is a story behind my story that I don't often tell. I keep it to myself because the victory of life seems more appealing than the story of death. But I learned some of life's most valuable lessons during my darkest days.

So allow me to begin.

I used to be broken. I used to feel lost. I used to wonder if the "good days" would ever return again. There were nights where I lay awake unable to sleep, mornings where I awoke from night terrors in a cold sweat, afternoons where I left work and cried myself to sleep because it was the only way to stop the bottomless pit of panic in my chest. And no one knew what was wrong with me. "Perfect Health" they claimed.

Here is a brief list of symptoms that I approached my doctor with, roughly 4 months after they began:

Headache
Stomach ache
Panic attacks
Mood swings
Hair loss
Weight loss
Hearing loss
Vision loss
Confusion
Paranoia
Swollen lymph nodes
Sore throat
Cough
Runny nose
Rash
Back pain
Neck pain
Light headedness
Social anxiety
General anxiety
Suicidal thoughts
Loss of appetite
Chest pain
Rapid pulse
Night terrors
Dizziness
Fainting
Trembling
Impending doom
 

... and the list goes on.

I remember saying to my doctor "I just feel like I'm dying." But all he did was analyze my blood work and conclude that I was in "perfect health."

4 months passed before my first symptoms and 3 more would pass before I returned to the doctor demanding more tests because it had become so hard to breathe that I could barely function. 1 week later I found myself being rushed to the E.R. via ambulance. 3 months after that I found myself in the hospital being prepped for open heart surgery.

And this... is merely the prologue.

Bonus Levels

I crave adventure.

Every time I step into the fresh air I allow myself to absorb natures wonders. And without disappointing, the wonders always lead to answers that have been laid on my heart. I like to call those answers "dream visions."

To me, a dream vision can be any type of realization - a mind blowing epiphany, the solution to a problem, a trip idea or simply a self discovery.

Whatever the case may be it allows me to learn and grow both mentally and physically.

Most importantly, I allow my mind to decide for itself what is most important. What I have concluded above all else is that I cannot allow life to pass me by. I want to go everywhere and see everything, because merely existing is not an option.

My time already ran out once. But my heart said "no death, not yet."

Now I'm just living in bonus levels.

And I cannot wait to see what each new day has in store...

Be careful what you wish for.

I was always the tough one.

The middle child. The athlete. The tom-boy. The "anything you can do I can do better" one. Even when I felt inadequate, or weak, or vulnerable I never let it show. How could I? I had a reputation to live up to.

I was a Greenlee.

The daughter of the fire chief, the speed skating coach, the Sunday school teacher, the Girl Scout leader. The sister of a valedictorian, a speed skating champion, a partier, a star baseball player, a paramedic, a dancer.

I had to keep up. I had to do it all.
And I had to do it better.

They were tough. But I was tougher. It never felt like competition... it was just all I knew.

So I did everything.

I fought fires, I won speed skating nationals, I memorized Bible verses, I hiked, I got A's, I excelled in sports, I danced.

But I didn't stop there, I couldn't stop there.

I didn't just dance, I sang and acted. I didn't just excel in sports, I picked up rugby and sky diving. I didn't just party, I threw the parties. My family loves to travel... so I became the mover.

I not only did everything... I did everything better.

Until my life came to a sudden, unexplainable, un-"toppable" hault.

And the only question that remains after all these years is "why me?" The supposedly genetic disorder affected no one else in my family. Just me. The tough one. The middle child. The athlete. The tom boy. The "anything you can do I can do better" one.

The un-"toppable" open heart surgery survivor.

I guess I got what I always wanted.

The thump.

The problem with having such an in tune heart is that you feel every emotion so much more intensely. The good thing about having such an in tune heart is that you are privileged to feel so strongly.

I know that statement won't make sense to a lot of people, but open heart changes you. For so long I feared the constant heart beat... wait. Let me explain. I can feel it. Like... it. My heart. Every single beat. I feel it pumping blood through every single vein. I hear it's pounding even in my head. I can feel every thump it makes. Every thump. It's gotten more quiet, or maybe I've grown more accustomed to it. But it's always there. Reminding me that it has been in someone's hands. Literally pumped back to life. By someone's hands. It still amazes me. Maybe I'm being a bit dramatic. Yes. I'm being dramatic.

Back to the point. What was the point? Hands. Pumping. Hearts. Emotions. Ah, yes, emotions. I hate them. Or maybe I love them. I don't know.

The point is that I got really good at quieting them. Emotions, that is. But the problem remains that I cannot quiet the thump. But perhaps it isn't a problem after all. Perhaps, through all of my attempts in quieting my emotions, I neglected my heart so that it could decide on it's own. Decide what was worthy of the thump. Because it tugs at me in this strange way, as if it's saying... "... go on... thump... allow your heart to be pumped back to life." And, I mean, I tried to quiet it... and i tried to ignore it. But thump. It's still there. And the problem with having such an in tune heart is that... no. I shouldn't talk in circles. The good thing about having such an in tune heart is that... yes. You are privileged to feel so strongly. Privileged. Because I couldn't feel... I wouldn't feel... I shouldn't feel what I do. If it wasn't real.

I don't know what I was thinking. Sorry heart. Thump on.

My tummy hurts

Sometimes I wish I could be a kid again. I miss the days where my Mom would put a bandaid on a "boo boo" that wasn't even bleeding. Just because it made me feel better.

There's really something to say about that kind of love. The love that says "I'm doing this to make you feel better even though it isn't necessary."

It must take a lot of sacrifice for parents to achieve selfless love like that. Maybe some never do. I suppose I was one of the lucky kids.

I still text my Mom when I'm sick. In fact, I just did. She didn't even ask what was wrong, she just began the response with "poor baby." You see, to her it doesn't matter the who, the what, the where, the why. All that matters is me, and my well being.

Wouldn't it be beautiful if everyone loved so selflessly?

In my weakest moments I'm reminded of my strongest bonds. The people I turn to when I feel helpless, alone, afraid, confused, or when I just have a tummy ache. Those are the people I love the most.

I hope I tell them that enough.

Because.

My heart hurts.

The holidays are hard for me because they stir up the anniversary of my achievement in beating death. Because it is still so hard for me to accept it as an achievement.

I have realized that I don't let others into the dark parts of my soul because it's too scary in there for even myself to reveal. But I'm thinking that maybe it's time. Because I'm realizing it's long overdue.

There's no pity party to throw because I have no one to blame but myself. But there is a lot of hurt and pain that I've swept under the rug for far too long. Writing helps. But it's not enough. I need to say things out loud that I've been too afraid to admit to my own mind. Why? Because the fear of making myself vulnerable. The fear of not being accepted. The fear of having no more scars to hide behind.

Sometimes I torture myself just because hurting seems easier than healing. But a broken me is a destructive me. And, oh, do I long to be unbroken.

You see... my heart wants to love so badly. It wants to be loved so badly. So it is time too rid myself of this burden I have been carrying for 3 years. Because unless I heal my own heart, I'll never be capable of fully giving it to someone else.

It's time to flip the script.
To start a new scene.

... a love scene.

Why?

Because my heart no longer belongs to just me.

Bubble Bath Rants

I find drips extremely annoying. You know, like a faucet drip. But the thing about a drip is that it really bothers you at first, when you notice it. And as time goes by, you get used to it. However, the annoyance still subconsciously lingers.

For me, that's how life after open heart surgery was. That annoying lingering drip. I did nothing to cause it. Yet I nothing to silence it. I just grew accustomed to the annoyance.

...and so it pestered. For years.

Then one day I had an epiphany.

I got up, tightened the screw, and realized it was that easy all along.

In conclusion, I have decided to write a book. Not of self loathing, but of thanks. A book of thanks. Thanks for the drip.

Because what that drip has taught me is that I have a choice. I own my decisions. My "yesses" as well as my "no's" belong to me and no one else. And that, my friends, is a beautiful discovery.

Awakened

Every day I'm learning to endure life's pain in order to discover it's beauty. I am learning to live for the first time in my life. I know I am very far from perfect, but I can see that now. And accepting your own imperfections is a liberating feeling.

"Rejection" has been something I've struggled with since open heart. Sometimes it was just the fear of rejection. I didn't date because I feared guys would no longer find me pretty. I didn't audition because I feared the chick with the scar wouldn't get cast. I didn't go for the jobs I wanted because I felt insecure. I hid behind my fears because it was easier. But I slowly started to realize that rejection is a part of life. All rejection tells us on the surface is "no." It is a brutal reminder that we are not perfect. But here's the truth. You never will be.

The happy reality is that the perfect relationship, role, job, or whatever you desire is still out there. Rejection may seem like it's telling us "no" when it is really saying "wait." Be patient. Don't lose hope. And more than anything, never stop going after what you want.

After all, you've got a 50/50 chance at getting a yes. Take it from someone who survived the odds. Your yes is out there waiting to be discovered, but you'll never find it until you try for it.

Scars

Sometimes I wonder if people think I'm crazy. Then I remind myself that I don't care.

Learning to live life from a perspective of death is unexplainable. It exposes you to the world in ways you may not even want.

The way I see it, there are two options in life. To hide behind the mask of who you want people to see you as, or expose them to the raw pieces of who you really are.

When you look at yourself in the mirror, are you really the person you want to see? Because that is who you have to live with.

Be YOU, bravely.
Hold nothing back.

Still tickin'

It has been 2 years, 9 months, and 24 days since my heart stopped beating.
Since I breathed a brand new breath.
Since I took a new lease out on life.

... and I just finally woke up.

I am here to live as passionately as possible, with as much passion as possible.
I am here to laugh. To love. To inspire. To simply "be" in every single moment. Every single day.

Get ready. Are you ready?
... no one ever is. Lesson #1.

Updates from my sister

My older sister, Jessica, sent out the following emails to friends/family in my "absence" ... they are heart wrenching to read now, to say the least. It's hard to read a few, thinking back to the extreme pain I was in, but I tried to keep my spirits high which seems to also be reflected in her words...


1.    

Good Morning. My sister Megan has been called back to prepare for her surgery. I am writing you from the 11th floor waiting room of Allegheny General Hospital. First I want to thank you all for you love and support, thoughts and prayers. I am with Meg now as she prepares. This marks the end of one journey and the beginning of another, It seems that this day has been a century in coming and we are all a little relieved that it is here. But the journey of a 4 some-odd hour surgery and the road to recovery is just beginning. We continue to covet all your thoughts and prayers throughout this time.


2.

Right about now, Meg's heart is stopped and the surgeon's work has begun in earnest. Please pray for God's guiding hand on his delicate work, God's protection on Meg's organs and brain througout the process of by-pass, and the surgeon's continued best judgement on the status of her valves.


3.


Well, we continue our sit in at the 3rd floor waiting room. Let's Make a Deal is playing. A small fortune has already be spent in the gift shop on pillows and ice tea. We anticipate another 2 hours at this point. We visited the chapel and found that the chairs are much more comfortable. We were the first people in this waiting room this morning. Since then, people have steadily trickled in and the room is now a buzz with conversation. The volunteer has finally arrived to take over answering the phone. We found out she will be sent to ICU on 12C after surgery. Thanks to David Bliss, lunch will be provided for us and we are greatly appreciative. Thank you all for your continued prayers and support and love, even across the miles.


4.


Meg is out of surgery! All went well! The aneurysm was larger than they thought so it was a blessing that she went in. They did not do anything with her valve at this time as it is functioning well. Her aortic arch beyond the current repair will need monitoring for the rest of her life. She will remain on a ventilator for most of today and possibly into tomorrow as they monitor for complications. After they wake her up, her goal will be to get up in a chair and then they will be able to move her to step down unit. Our prayer now is for no complications and a successful wean from the ventilator. We will be able to see her in about an hour.


5.


 Mom and Dad are back there with her now. Her nurse has indicated that she is fairly alert and basically breathing on her own although the breathing tube remains in place. She is letting them know about her pain and asking for the tube to be removed. She corrected the nurses when someone said she played soccer, cause those of you who are 'in the know' are well aware she played and loves and misses rugby! Meg is definitely here all! Can't wait to see her.


6.


Ok all. So I was just with Meg the entire time since my last update. They called for me as soon as I hit the send button. She was fighting the breathing tube a lot, as it is incredibly uncomfortable. Her nurse has been walking a fine line between managing her pain and not sedating her too much so that she could get the tube out ASAP. Finally, about a half an hour ago, they were able to remove the breathing tube and take her off the ventilator. She is in a lot of pain and we are still working with her nurse and the doctors to manage it. Please pray for a pain relief solution and that her blood pressure will stabilize. They are currently using medication to support her blood pressure and her nurse has been unable to wean her off of it. This will keep her in ICU as will pain if we can not get her up and moving in the morning. Bottom line, we are not quite out of the woods yet.


7.


Well, it has certainly been one very long day. Meg has been laughing and joking with us. Her pain is better controlled. Her blood pressure is still a concern and they have had to get slightly more aggressive with management. Hopefully it will stabilize for good soon. The blood pressure issue is causing a few heart rate abnormalities that her nurse is monitoring closely. But overall, she remains in good condition and very good spirits. She is bolstered emensely by your love and prayers. We will be settling in for the night soon, so barring any unforeseen changes this will be my last update for the night.


(I REMEMBER NONE OF THIS FIRST DAY,  ha ha ha... I was also informed I gave the nurse the finger when she wouldn't take my breathing tube out, oops... ?)




8.


Morning all. It was a long hard night for Megan. She was in significant pain all through the night. She has had only 2.5 hours of sleep since surgery. I think we are both near exhaustion and totally frustrated...but obviously she more than me. Spasms in her neck have been a particular nuisance. We are attributing this to positioning during surgery now coming back to bite her, but so far we have been hard pressed to work out all the knots. We convinced them to take out the large IV and monitoring lines (Called a Swan-Ganz catheter) that were in her neck so at least she could move around a bit. This was actually a positive step as it means that the doctors feel that her heart output is stable enough that they can give up some of the extra close monitoring this line provides. But with her pain so acute, we were little able to celebrate. This morning, we talked to her doctor and had her pain medications switched to new medications altogether. Her favorite nurse so far (besides me) is back, so she is calmer. I felt she was in good enough hands to leave for just a bit to come home and recoup some myself. Mom is with her now and I am told that they removed her chest tubes, which should also decrease her pain. Mom says she is sleeping now. I will again return to the hospital by lunch and will be with her throughout the day and night. We remain hopeful that we can get her into the chair today and possibly get her to eat something. Pain control, chair, food...those are how to pray today. Thank you again for all your love and support.


9.




Well, we made it back to the hospital about 2pm after picking up lunch. My dad and sister Joy were here with Meg. Before that my Mom had been here for several hours as well. Meg's pain is finally better controlled. She was able to get up to the chair. It wasn't easy, of course, but she did it. Dad fed her some bites of soup, some jello, and a few bites of some other "clear liquids". Then she finally, finally fell asleep in earnest. When I got back, I talked with her nurse. Her nurse agrees that the change in pain meds has made a positive difference as well the other steps and that sleep will do her a world of good. Overall, we are making slow and steady progress. At this point, I will not be leaving the hospital now for the next 24 hours. I hope to continue to update you that things are improving. Please keep praying for continued pain management, continued courage and good spirits on Meg's part, and continued strength on mine.


10.


Her nurse, Alex was just out to see us. She let me know that Meg is still sound asleep. Meg's pain seems to be under control for now. When she wakes up, we may have to work to "catch up" again. But hopefully we can manage. Alex has been a real blessing to us. She has extended lots of professional courtesy and addressed all of our concerns as quickly as possible. She is a really good nurse and we share a similar philosophy, which affords me a certain level of comfort with her. So, for now, our camp-in continues in the 12th floor waiting room; our little home away from home.


11.


Well day 1 post open has come and gone. It was a very long day indeed. Meg made really good progress. She even managed a reasonable portion of her dinner, even though it wasn't "her kind of food ". Spirits have waxed and waned a bit today, but finally with her pain under control, a properly working IV, most of the tubes and wires out, and being all cleaned up, she is settling in for a night's sleep. We are anticipating a move to step down sometime later tomorrow. In case you were considering, we aren't allowed fresh flowers or balloons here although we did fanegle an exception for the beautiful ones from OTB. I will spend the night here with her again tonight. Dad is backing me up from the waiting room. Tonight please pray for a restful night with no loss of pain control. Thank you all


12.


A cloudy day has dawned as we look out at our city view from Meg's 12th floor room. We have come to really appreciate the view, as Megan's "penthouse" allows us pretty much a compete panoramic. Despite many seemingly unnecessary interruptions from her nurse, Meg and I both got several hours sleep last night. She awoke in fairly good spirits, with still adequate pain control. This is a major milestone. Her surgeon was just in to see us. Megan has very small veins and they have been having trouble with her IV's and blood draws since they took that big line out of her neck, so they are going to put in a less invasive line that will still eliminate the need for the little IVs and they can draw blood from it (called a PICC line). It should last the rest of her stay. This is good. Our goal today is to get her up and moving a little more and to wean off of IV pain meds and on to pills only. The pills have been helping a lot and the IV stuff is giving her a headache, so this should be a good transition. However, as she moves more, she will have more pain. Her surgeon does plan for her to move out of ICU today. I will update you with where we move to. The only other thing that her surgeon said was that they are going to give her some medication to pull some extra fluid out of her system. The only concern with this is if her blood pressure will hold. She feels the best she has, but the doctor warned her that after she gets moving more, she will feel worse before she feels better again. 2 steps forward... Coveting your prayers for continued strength, good spirits, pain control on pills alone, stable blood pressure, and successful PICC line placement.


13.


Well, we finally got the word. The big move is here. She will be headed over to 12A momentarily room 1209. As I understand it, she will remain there until discharge. A lot of folks have stopped by today and she got her hair washed. She has done well using mostly pills for pain control. She got a lunch that agreed with her and so she ate pretty well. A few folks have stopped in today to say hi, so overall she is tired. After the move I think she will be completely wiped out. Tomorrow will probably be a little more difficult as well since they will probably start trying to have her out of bed before breakfast or right after. No PICC line yet, but hopefully it will happen today. Prayers for this evening: successful transfer to 12A, a good nurse that I can be comfortable leaving her with, a good night's sleep, continued pain control, and successful PICC line placement SOON!! Thanks all.


14.


Well, postop day 2 has come and gone. We definitely had some ups and downs today. While Meg's big move to step down was much anticipated and definitely a good step, it had its draw back, particularly leaving behind nurse Alex. The lack of empathy in the new nurse was extremely upsetting to me as was her apparent lack of knowledge. At one point, she commented that "all the people there had had open heart surgery. " To Megan's credit, she responded with a respectful, but direct, "Have you had open heart surgery?" It would have been hilarious if I hadn't been so hopping mad. It was hard to leave my sister in the care of someone I felt was incompetent, however the up side was Megan is medically very stable and it was unlikely this nurse would be called to any extreme action on Meg's part. However, a bit later, a visit from my dad's good friend from lifeflight "dropped in" for a visit. After that seemed Meg's nurse liked us a whole lot better and got a bite from the "nice bug" (Thanks Pete!) You know us Greenlee's; when it comes to fire, EMS, police, and sometimes hospitals, we are connected like the mob. Meg reports that the night nurse is much better.


In other news, they did in fact place the PICC line tonight. That is a good thing. Meg did a lot better getting back and forth from bed to chair. Tomorrow could go either way. Meg could have a slightly rougher say before things improve again: or she could just keep plugging along. Please be in prayer for the later as well as continued pain control, good nurses, good spirits, and strength.


15.


UPDATE FROM MEG
I appreciate everyone's love and support. I can finally hold my kindle without feeling like I'm gonna pass out. Surgery wasn't fun ... recovery is painful and boring to say the least. I get tired easily but they want me to move and do a lot of things....step down is like heaven compared to icu, they actually let you sleep in here! My day nurse woke me up with saying "good morning sunshine you're so young!" Shes funny and I like it. It was also 8 am and the sun was shining ... today seems hopeful. To be honest I just want to go home but I know they have to get me to a certain point first. Jessica has been my saving grace, I would have been miserable if she wasn't here so much.... my family rocks, too. Thanks again. Please keep the prayers coming!
Meg

P.s. hospital food sucks

Sent from my Kindle Fire


16.

Well, as we feared, post op day 3 proved to be a bit of a bear. It had its good points too, though. Meg got the rest of her "tubes" out, leaving her with just the PICC line. This granted her almost complete freedom, which she was hard pressed to do anything with. A little like being all dressed up with no place to go. She did start cardiac rehab, which means that she walked around the unit some. She got up to the chair with greater ease. She put on more clothing. All points of comfort and celebration.


However, the throbbing pain in her head has not let up. Today it came complete with nausea and vomiting. She was not able to eat much and what she did eat did not really stay down. I had a lot of concerns about this, but I seem to be the only one. Her nurses contacted her doctor at my insistence, but he does not feel that she is in any danger. We knew that this day could be more difficult and I guess that is proving true. Hopefully tomorrow will see a turn around.


We are quickly making preparations here at the house for her arrival as word is that her discharge could come as early as Wednesday. Hopefully it will be Thursday, but whatever day it is, we want her to be comfortable. Please pray that we can find a solution to the headache and nausea as these things are greatly inhibiting her recovery. Please pray that her doctor will be conservative with her discharge for her sake. Please pray for continued strength and renewal for her. Thank you all again for your love and support.


17.


Well, today the tide finally turned. After drawing the labs that I requested, they found that in fact her potassium was very low, her magnesium kinda low, and her blood counts significantly low. They treated all these appropriately and the end result is that Meg had her best day ever. At this point she is practically bouncing off the walls. I was there when her very tired-looking surgeon showed up this afternoon and we all agreed that Thursday would be the best day for discharge. Best not to really really rush it. Besides, I have few things to finish up her in preparation for her arrival. When I left this evening, Meg was jumping into the shower. I expect she will feel much better after wards, but perhaps a little winded. Her oxygen levels are back up and she walked a lot today. Tomorrow in cardiac rehab, we plan for her to do some stairs. We are also waiting for a few other body systems to get back to normal. Hopefully all will be on track by tomorrow. Please continue to be in prayer that her recovery stays on track, her pain remains manageable -- even after discharge, that she doesn't "over do it", and that all the necessary preparations will be completed here at the house in time.


I can not tell you how much all of your love and support has meant to us. Meg will look forward to visits after her discharge. She will not be able to drive for 6 weeks. Our door will be open to you our friends and family whenever you can stop by. We will continue to covet your prayers after she is discharged as we all adjust to this new way of life for a while. As I said on the day of surgery, one journey has come to end, but another is just beginning. On Thursday, we will close the "Hospital" chapter, but the saga will go on. Until Meg is back to life, back to work, and back to her own space, we will not be closing this book. Thank you for journeying with us.


18.


Okay, so all systems are go and we are cleared for discharge tomorrow. Meg had another good day, although she was a little more tired today, maybe because she was so active yesterday. She walked some stairs and showered again. We met with her surgeon and got some discharge instructions. I asked for her prescriptions, got them all filled, and everything is set for her arrival here. I will be picking her up tomorrow. The sign says that discharge is at 11:00am, but we will see if that really happens. She will be coming here to the house affectionately known as the West/Clark house. This is because as many of you know, Mike, Becca and I are "house sitting" for a few years while our good friends the Wests are overseas. We are blessed to be in this place and be able to care for Meg here where she can spend most of her hours on one floor with all necessities, until she builds up her strength. As I said before, we invite you to visit with Meg, or send cards and such. Please be in prayer for a smooth discharge process, continued pain control at home, rest and relaxation for Meg, and a smooth transition for all of us. Again, as I've said so many times before, thank you all so much for your love and support. Just knowing that so many people out there are thinking of us means so much. Good night all.


19.


Today was the day that lasted a week. After a miscommunication resulted in us waiting 2 hours to have Meg's PICC line removed, we finally left the hospital sometime after 12, with the remainder of Meg's get well gifts in tow. We were pleasantly surprised by "Uncle Pete" who had stopped by to visit but ended up walking us out. By the time we got Meg home, fed, comforted with Vicodin and tucked into bed for a nap, it was after 2. Those few hours had seemed like an eternity and we were both exhausted. Brett and Mom brought the chair for Meg to relax in. She awoke with a headache, but we were able to get it under control. Mike braved the store for us and stocked up on all Meg's favorites. Chainsaw and Becca were both overjoyed to finally be able to spend some time with her. Meg had Becca paint her toenails. Overall a good day. Please pray for continued pain control, no fluid problems, and grace for us all ad we share space...........




And that's that. This past weekend I came home so I could sleep in my own bed and had only planned on staying overnight. But after stairs agreed with me and I felt as if it were safe, I stayed. Much to my parents and Jessica's dismay... but I'm doing well.

The aneurysm ended up being 5.3 cm and I found out that my entire aorta is weakened (unknown as to why) so it will need monitoring... and sadly, no more contact sports. Goodbye forever rugby :-(

But, I'm alive! And at least I don't feel as if I'm going to explode.

Cheers,
Meg

P.S. I feel like I'm on house arrest... it's too cold outside to walk, I can't drive for another month, and I can't really do much around the house other than lay, read, and watch tv (which I generally hate).

One day away...

Tomorrow is the big day. Reporting to the hospital at 5 am... I'll be taken into surgery around 6. Surprisingly I'm not scared or even nervous... mostly just anxious to get this over with and get back to my normal self. I received an email yesterday from Dr. Allan Stewart out of New York Presby... pretty sweet, he's kinda a big deal. He wished me luck and such. I guess he read my story on heartosaurus.com

This whole thing has taken on a mind of its own. I feel like I'm just going through the motions while everything goes on around me. My older sister has taken the liberty of getting everything in order for me to stay at her house after the hospital. She also organized a mailing list to send out email updates to anyone who wants them and has offered to pay for everything for my family during my hospital stay (food, gas, parking)... she's incredible to say the least. On top of all that she's planning on sleeping in the waiting room. LOVE HER.

I've been so thankful to have the supportive family and friends that I do. The best part is that none of them are showing me how nervous THEY are, although I know they are (probably more so than I am).

Alright... bring this thing on. I'm ready.

The show must go on...

Sooooooo apparently the aneurysm is 5.1 cm. Found that out on Thursday after the T.E.E... where they tried to shove that camera down my throat while I was wide awake. That was fun. I guess my blood pressure was too low to sedate me. I ended up getting transferred down to the O.R. after two attempts of them making me try to swallow a camera. Ended up being at the hospital for 9 hours :-( All of that after the nurse blew a vein in my right arm trying to start my IV... I look like an abuse victim who is addicted to heroine. Awesome.

After much deliberation and stress, I held a parent meeting after my 5 hour rehearsal today and told them what was going on. Some of my students knew I had a "heart condition" but no details. Through the first public tears I've cried over this, I told them I decided to have the surgery as soon as possible and postpone the show an extra month so I can recover. Of course everyone was extremely understanding but it took every gut in my body to bring myself to break that news. I wish this never happened... but it is what it is. And, as the saying goes, "The show must go on..."

My story...

I sent this story as a letter to the John Ritter Foundation today. It gave me the idea to start blogging...

" Hello,

I just came across the foundation website and I'd like to share my story with you. I am only 24 and I was diagnosed with a 4.6 cm ascending aortic aneurysm 2 months ago. When I was doing research about the condition online and I found the John Ritter Foundation I was completely astonished to learn that is what sadly killed him. I remember hearing about his death but it never "hit home" that anything like that would ever affect myself.  Even though at the time of his death my aneurysm was already growing without my knowing.

About 9 months ago I started to feel "not right." The symptoms I can now describe as hypertension were confusing to me at the time. After about a month of wondering what was going on with my body and just thinking I'd feel better, I went to my primary care physician. They ran blood tests and took an EKG... both came back with no red flags. Without further testing, my doctor diagnosed me with an anxiety disorder. Although my blood pressure was reading high they said it was probably due to the anxiety.

Seeing as I had always been an outgoing, bubbly, and fun loving person, that answer did not satisfy me. Anxiety disorder? No way! I told him I did not want medicine for it and that it had to be something else. I left the office in tears... not because I found out something was horribly wrong, but because I knew something was horribly wrong and had no answers. Four months went by. The "anxiety" did not go away and I also began to develop a strange shortness of breath. Back to the doctor I go. He tells me that sometimes shortness of breath can come from anxiety and insists on giving me a prescription for a low dose Zoloft. I told him that I would take it but I wanted to do further testing.

A week after my appointment I had blood drawn (again) and had an echo cardiogram and chest x-ray scheduled. The very next day after blood work I went for the echo. During the entire test, the tech who was conducting it kept telling me how great my heart looked, until... the statement I'll never forget : "Almost finished, I just want to check your aorta then we'll be done," she said in a rather cheerful voice. Then her demeanor began to change... she had a quizzical look on her face and her voice became shaky. "You know, I'm just a tech," she says, "but there is something on here that I'd like you to see the doctor about before you leave today." Part of me already knew that my fears were about to be confirmed. I asked how long it would take because I had to be at work in about an hour. Her answer was "you should probably call off." Everything in me went numb. After looking at my scans, the doctor on duty immediately had me transferred to a nearby hospital by ambulance. I was poked and prodded for more blood and scheduled for a CT scan. 

According to my echo cardiogram it appeared as if I had a dissection, which was ruled out by the CT; however, the aneurysm was confirmed as well as a bicuspid heart valve that I never knew I was born with. Also, at the time, they told me my aneurysm was 3.6 cm. I had to stay in the hospital over night for monitoring (so much for the baseball game I was supposed to go to) and I was started on atenolol to lower my blood pressure. The next day I was released having no idea what any of the information I was just given even meant. I was in utter shock. I was also under the impression that I would be needing surgery within the next 5-10 years... until I met with a cardiologist a month later. He told me that the aneurysm was actually 4.6 cm and that because I was "smallish" in size that the he recommended I meet with a surgeon immediately. A week later I did so. I am scheduled for a transesophageal echocardiogram this Thursday to get better imaging and surgery to replace the aorta will be scheduled for the beginning of the year.

Before I found out all of this information I ran every day, lifted 3 times a week, ate a healthy diet, and played rugby. I've played sports my entire life and have always been conscious of my health. It's upsetting that regardless of how much I took care of my body something like this could still happen. Not to mention, I am not allowed to even so much as go for a run until surgery. I teach acting, voice, and dance at a performing arts school as well. I am directing a play that is due to open at the end of January. My students don't know yet, but I might have to schedule surgery before that....... I'm devastated. Each and every day I struggle with breathing problems and occasional chest pain. It is driving me nuts that I cannot work out or go out on the town with friends in fear of something happening. Yes, I am lucky they caught this before it dissected, but walking on egg shells each day is extremely hard. If any good can come out of this it is that my 4 brothers and sisters can get checked out as well. My father was adopted so we are unsure of half of our medical history. Now we know.

On top of teaching acting I work as an actress myself so I cannot say that I'm thrilled for the scars of surgery... but hopefully someone will find that characteristic likeable. I'm lucky to be alive. I'm lucky they found it. I'm lucky that I stuck to my gut and kept asking for testing even when I had no idea what to expect. I know that God had his hand on me and I have full faith that my surgeon will do a great job...

I appreciate your website so much. It has made me much more informed and I only hope to spread awareness myself. Thank you for taking the time to read my letter

Sincerely,

Meg Greenlee "