Sunday, April 26, 2015


When I began rehab, my case manager decided to set me a goal of losing 5 pounds. I cut out chocolate and practiced putting down my fork between bites, and soon I had lost a few pounds and then 8.

I set myself the goal of riding my bike to my 4-month follow-up with the cardiologist. I did that yesterday. I was afraid I might run into my case manager, who had been quite adamant about enforcing the podiatrist's order to stay off the left foot. When I saw Joan in the parking lot, she didn't make any fuss at all. Just said 'Hi.'

The cardiologist has nice eyes and a good bedside manner. I had told him ahead of time that I was interested in reducing my meds as much as possible. I argued that my cholesterol and blood pressure had been OK within the guidelines before the event, so there must be something else, such as genetics, that accounts for my heart attack. Well, actually, once you have had a heart attack, you are in a different statistical group, and the odds change. Besides, the medications have specific effects on the stents and on the likelihood of plaque attaching to them or to the vessel walls; so he want me to be on the highest dose I can tolerate, not the lowest.

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