After re-reading part one, I feel altogether more confident than I did a couple of weeks ago about my upcoming Medical Procedure.
How things can snowball!
A fall
leads to
a trip to hospital "just in case".
An angiogram, normally easy peasy,
Cannot be done.
I am put into hospital for a week.
I am told my heart is a "dicky ticker".
I can possibly do nothing at all - in which case in a year or so I could have a heart attack.
Or, I could have an angioplasty with balloon stents (thought - if you fill them with helium will you float over the rooftops?
Aagh. I forgot. If you can't shove dye up your ar . . . teries in an angiogram, then you can't shove a drill up there in an angioplasty without a huge risk of unplanned ripping and tearing of arteries.
So it's going to be the whole big, carefully planned six-hour operation. I shall be fitted with a couple of titanium plates. How titanic! I wonder if my chest will be bullet-proof - just a thought!
I'm trying to get a photo of my insides, but in spite of several hints to the surgical team members, I think I shall be unlucky! Shame! That would be an unusual family portrait!
So, I go into the hospital early on the morning of the 11th August, and the Main Event will be on the 12th August. In less than two weeks after that, I could be home, though not exactly fighting fit. Certainly by the middle of September. By Christmas, I should be able to make plans for 2023, knowing that I'll be a healthier lad.
Wish me luck for the Eleventh.
If it isn't awful, it will certainly be unusual!
But I've got an uncomfortable feeling it's going to be both!
