Roger Zee Memoirs
2016 Heart Attack 02 12/30/20
Spent my whole life running round, chasing women, music, health, success, love and happiness. Blessed with an abundance of energy and will power, I occasionally achieve my goals -- just never really sustain them... You see I run in streaks. As I once told my daughter Charlotte, there's nothing more depressing than a "One Hit Wonder." So I find myself wondering, "What's it all about Alfie?" But I can still turn on the charm when necessary, LOL! Welcome to another excerpt from my memoirs, "Life and Times of a Pandemic Musician." B-|
I wake up the morning after my visit to WestMed Urgent Care frankly ecstatic to find myself still alive! Especially after the dire prediction by Dr. M of my imminent demise. But now, how do I get to the White Plains Hospital ER today, Halloween 2016? Definitely not driving due to the very expensive parking lot there and possible vandalism. And who knows how long they'll keep me? I could take a cab but just don't feel comfortable calling for one. So that leaves me walking the 1.25 miles from my apartment across Martine Avenue. I end up sitting down and resting about six or seven times along the way. :-O
When I finally reach the hospital, it takes me a while to locate the ER entrance. Almost like they don't want anybody to find it, LOL! At 10:20A, I'm surprised to see only one other person in the waiting room. I walk up to the plexiglass window and tell them I'm here on a cardiac issue. They give me a form to fill out and ask me to take a seat. One thing I didn't mention, some days my hands shake so much I can't write. One of my doctors called it an "intention tremor." I'm fine doing anything until I actually really want to do it. WTF! So I struggle through the form and sit for about ten minutes until they bring me in. :-)
Now the fun begins! They put me in a small room with a chair and a bed and start the work up. Pretty much the same as at Urgent Care -- draw blood, EKG, wait an hour and repeat. Throw in an x-ray in between. Lots of different people come in to chat with me, mostly WestMed personnel, almost like an occupying army! Finally after four hours, a WestMed cardiologist, Dr. Daniel Lorch, explains to me that I'm still in the middle of a heart attack. They want to admit me to the hospital but I need to wait for an available bed. Great! :-O
So now I start getting scared. Looks like I'm pretty much up shit's creek, very likely facing the end. I need to come up with a plan! So I decide to lose my usual sardonic attitude and instead go with a chill, lovable joker look. Yeah, I'm desperate now. Can't afford to alienate anybody. Because who knows which of the currently swarming medical personnel I can actually entice to make that extra effort that ultimately saves my ass! So for now, I just kick back and chillax. :-)
Finally around 7P, the woman coordinating my ER stay -- yeah, now I got people -- informs me they found a bed and will bring me up shortly. The "new" me smiles and thanks her. They strap me to a gurney and transport me to a room right next to a huge hole in the hallway that contains a large, endlessly noisy, ventilating fan. I don't say a word! On the upside, I gaze in awe and admiration at the gorgeous young nurses and admins looking after me. I may be "Knockin' on Heaven's Door," but what a Hell of a way to get there! =^_^=
A while later, Dr. Lorch drops in and informs me that he's arranged an electro-cardiogram for tomorrow morning -- basically an ultrasound of the heart. My nurse comes in to check on me and asks how I'm doing. I said everything's good but the room's a little noisy from the construction next door. She smiles and says, "Let me see what I can do for you." OK! She comes back an hour later and says we've got an empty luxury suite down the hall and we're going to move you into it free of charge. Wow! My new personality's working wonders, LOL! <3
After they move me to the new room, they hook me up to a heart monitor. You can never really sleep in a hospital because the nurses wake you up every couple of hours to check your vitals and shoot you up with whatever. At about noon, they shuffle me off to the test and at about five, a Dr. Mark Greenberg pays me a visit. He's seen the test results and they're not good. Basically, virtually no blood's entering or exiting my heart. The aortic valve's completely blocked. The long and short of it -- it's a miracle I'm alive! :(
But it's not all bad. Dr. Greenberg thinks they can fix me up with a double bypass operation and a new aortic heart valve. That's quite a shock! "But don't worry," he says, "my good friend, Dr. Robert Micheler, heads up the Cardiac Surgery department at Bronx Montefiore-Einstein Hospital. I'm gonna give him a call and see if we can transfer you down there and slip you into an OR slot." ^_^
Interesting thing about hospital meals. Even though I tell them I'm a type-2 diabetic, they serve me completely inappropriate food. For breakfast, it's pancakes with maple syrup, orange juice, and fruit. When it arrives, I explain that I really shouldn't eat any of this. The dietician says, "Don't worry. I'll send the nurse in and she'll administer a shot of insulin." "But I don't use insulin. I take metformin and glimiperide." She explains that hospital policy prohibits them from giving me my own medication. Insulin should suffice. Like the willow tree, I bend with the wind, LOL! ;)
The next day, some friends visit including Al Frankel, Larry Handwerger, Hope Berkeley, Ellen Cherkoss Zive, and Rudy Feinauer. At about 5P, Dr. Greenberg comes in and informs me that he's set up a transfer to Montefiore Hospital for 10P that night. He explains they won't operate on me immediately but once there, they can queue me up for an OR time in the next few days. Of course I thank him profusely! =^_^=
Pretty soon I figure out that nothing runs on time in a hospital. Transport comes to pick me up at about 11:15P. The ER medics make a sad attempt to insert a new IV line and keep missing the vein. Definitely not easing my anxiety. They finally hit it after my arm turns purple. They wheel me throughout the huge hospital and finally load me into the back of the ambulance. One guy drives and the other sits in back with me. I've got my knapsack and another big bag sitting on my stomach. Then the ER guy next to me asks if I can hold his knapsack as well! So off we roar into the night through the bowels of the Bronx like it's Saturday Night Fever with all kinds of police activity and sirens going off. :-O
Amazingly enough, it turns out that the ER guy sitting with me used to live in the apartment building next to mine and could hear me singing in my apartment! He tells me not to worry and then starts describing all his different colon cancer operations where they kept removing more and more of his intestines. He jokes about how when they finally finished, his pubic hair reached up to his chest! In a rare move, I start to panic. Really don't know if I'll survive the ambulance ride let alone another day and the upcoming surgery! :{
So as I spend another day in lockdown, the TV screams that although they delivered twenty million Covid vaccines, only one million people actually got them injected in their arms, all due to poor coordination between the federal and state governments. Really? Did I expect anything else? So I pick up my trusty bass, load my boombox with one of my favorite records, Jimmy Cliff's "The Harder They Come," and mellow down easy to the low end. Don't you know it's "All about the Bass!" One <3
YouTube - Many Rivers to Cross - Jimmy Cliff
©2020 Roger Zee