Three months ago my little brother and his lovely wife welcomed a new little life into the world. Baby Charlotte has been overwhelmingly loved since that very moment.
Doing the responsible thing, a week after the happy arrival, off they went to the doc to get whooping cough vaccines to protect the little one.
This must have been a contender for the GP of the year. At the same time, the doc checked their blood pressure.
My brother’s blood pressure was high.
Really high.
The GP then did an ultrasound on my brother’s chest. “Your heart only has two valves, not three, the blood is going both ways in one of your arteries.” Doc then referred my bro on to a specialist for more tests.
Shock. Doesn’t even begin to describe it. We were celebrating a new life and now, what?
Thankfully the specialist had appointments within a few weeks. Then a few more weeks for the results. Having a non-functioning valve is very, very life threatening. It’s amazing my brother hadn’t had a heart attack before now.
Immediately he was to cease lifting anything heavy, or doing any kind of exertion. Then there was a referral to a cardiologist, he’s the guy who makes the official diagnosis and decides on the treatment, then lines up the treatment with a surgeon.at
Cardiologists are busy people so it was a few weeks before seeing them and more tests, including a radioactive dye test to see the function of the heart.
Prognosis – urgent.
The third valve was almost non-functional, so not enough oxygenated blood was making it’s way around the body.
Treatment: open heart surgery.
ASAP.
Today, my brother was admitted into hospital. His chest was shaved. Tests were run on lung capacity, blood and more. Charlotte turned exactly three months old.
Tomorrow, the surgeon will crack open my brother’s sternum. The blood from my brother’s body will be run through a machine, and then his heart will be stopped. An artificial valve will be put into his heart and then it will be jump started again, the blood returned from the machine, before putting his chest back together.
It’s almost unfathomable. He will be alive, asleep, and his chest will be completely opened. Just like in that classic episode of the Simpsons, they will cut him open and tinker with his ticker.
And so we wait. For 1pm. And then 4pm. And we hope. We worry. We hope.
UPDATE
The operation was a complete success!
By 11am today, my brother was awake. Technically, prior to that, he was on “life support”, with a machine doing his breathing and blood circulation on his behalf. But doc is very pleased and everything went to plan.
Unbelievable relief!
Now for the recovery phase.
So thankful.
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I already know from Twitter yesterday that it went well but whoah, what a shock. That GP deserves a medal. How crazy it is that your bro was trotting about, asymptomatic. Yet another reminder to value every second of life (and to always have check ups;)
So sudden and we all know how hard it is to find a great GP! Now his 3 month old daughter has to be checked because it was genetic. Modern medicine is amazing. Doctors are heroes!
How awful Louise. So glad your brother’s op went well though and hope he makes a good recovery.
Many thanks Anne – he is certainly on the improve. We will forever be grateful to the GP who took the time to investigate!