Not Good Enough

Not Good Enough.

The Good News

“The most important thing is to enjoy your life – to be happy – it’s all that matters!”

I hate waiting…. I have been sitting in this hospital waiting room since 12.30pm, it is now 3.30pm and I am still waiting! I want to know the results from my MRI. From my fitness test, my ECG and my echo cardio gram. I know it’s not going to be good news but I need to hear it from the cardiologist so I can suppress this awful hope that just won’t subside. Reality means nothing when it comes the burden of hope! Human nature eh!

Apparently my cardiologist has been held up in an emergency. As long as it’s not my emergency and I’m still sitting here living and breathing then I’m happy..I can wait.

I’m texting everyone and anyone but it’s not helping because all of my friends are even more nervous than I am! I’m trying to calm them down and tell them it’s ok. I’m sick of saying I’m fine! I just want to speak to the doctor. I want to know what is going on with my heart…exactly. I’m sleeping all the time. I even made myself go jogging to give myself a’ boot up the ass’ but it didn’t work (obviously) I hate the tiredness. It takes over my mind like a heavy lead helmet crushing down on my thinking and I almost forget who I am …I just have to sleep!  I want to know if they can freeze my eggs for free on the NHS. Well I am actually going to tell them to do that. I will not accept the word no! I just want answers.

A tall dark haired man dressed in scrubs comes over to me as I am crouched over my laptop in the waiting area with my legs up on the seat, wrapped around me. He smiles and I suddenly feel bad for having my feet up! He apologises for being held up and takes me into his office. He looks at my file and smiles at me, a genuine smile. I like him. He explains everything: severe pulmonary regurgitation, severely swollen right chamber of the heart, need for valve transplant, open-heart surgery. All the other words in between have no relevance to me. I understand.

He has specs of grey in his hair and the green of his eyes pierce into mine questioningly…”how do you feel about this?”  I can’t answer. I don’t know how I feel. I know I’m scared but who wouldn’t be, otherwise I have nothing to say. Me.. speechless! First time for everything…right!

His laid back manner is unnerving. He explains the procedure of the heart surgery in a very similar manner to making a morning coffee and as much as I try, I just can’t relate. This is my body that will be opened up. My chest that will become like a zipper. My breast bone and ribs that will be crushed, broken and opened up, and my heart that will be tampered with. I feel slightly sick.

He leans back in his swiveling doctors chair with his hands resting upon his head, inadvertently showing his very well formed biceps and cheeky chest hair sneaking out the top of his scrubs. He smiles. He has perfect teeth and his eyes crinkle just slightly at the corners. I can’t help wondering how old he may be. Mid 30’s I think? I tell him I want to be able to have children and I’m sorry for bringing up such a dead end request but it’s just been on my mind since…forever! He said I can have kids. There is no issue! I almost fall out of my chair.

Apparently there is new technology available now. There is a valve that can be placed inside my heart that has no need for medication and no risk of being rejected by my body. It will only last for around twelve years but all subsequent replacements can be done via key-hole surgery so there will be no more open heart surgery for me!

Unfuckingbelievable!!!

I want to throw my arms around this laid back happy man with his green eyes and perfectly formed biceps. I have such an awful urge to show the greatness of my appreciation! I say” are you sure because I don’t believe you? Prove it!”  My lovely green eyed, dark haired, Irish cardiologist showed me a website displaying my new valve with all its features and I recognise it. it is the one I found myself during my research but I was informed that it is not yet being used in this country. I can’t contain my happiness!

My handsome cardiologist explains the scarring problems that occur in non Caucasian patients. I ask if that applies to me since I am only half non… I cant help my laughter! Unfortunately I am included. Half -non apparently is enough. I am still laughing! I pull down my turtle neck jumper and ask what he thinks of original scar? “Did I heal like a regular white person?” I ask in between semi-suppressed giggles. He looked down my top at my cleavage and looked at me with wide smiling shiny green eyes, ” that is very very good!” he said. I don’t even try to contain my laughter now and I say “I’m talking about my scar, not my cleavage!” I feel slightly remorseful as his handsome face turns a peculiar shade of pink! I still cant contain the giggles though!

I ask unlimited questions about the heart operation and store them in my mind for later. All I can think about right now is the good news. I can have children! All my life I wouldn’t even allow myself to imagine having a child and now it is possible. Right now I don’t care at all about the massive operation I am being told I have to get asap. The mind numbing overwhelming tiredness is all but forgotten. I am a new woman! I am going to have children! I am ecstatic!

 

Advertisement