Kent drove me to the lab this morning for blood work. I have an appointment in one week with my cardiologist. He wants to see the cholesterol levels to determine dosage of medication, if any is needed. It takes awhile, after bombarding the body with different medications that do different things, to clear out of the body. So over the last week or so, the medications from the hospital have run out and I've stopped taking them according to plan. So, in a way, I've been detoxing my body, eating only healthy things and taking only the medications that the doctor wants me to keep taking.

So next week, I think he may say that I'm ready for the cardiac rehab program. In a way I'm hoping he does. I know it's going to be hard, but right now, I feel like I'm in a holding pattern. I take three walks a day, but they are small walks. When I get to where I'm starting to work my lungs and heart a bit, I back off because I don't know how much I should be pushing my body. After all, I'm taking these walks by myself and if something goes wrong, all I can do is call for help on my cell phone and wait. So the cardiac rehab will be good because they should know what they are doing and when they ask me to push more, they will have a controlled environment to take care of any issue, I would think.

It will also motivate me more and give me a goal to work towards -- a little more each week. I don't know how many of you have been on disability, but for me at least, it's really difficult. I'm a goal oriented person. This sitting around at home day after day is driving me crazy. Some would probably think that I'm crazy for even thinking that way. My doctor did indicate that eventually I could do some work from home, which I think is probably the best way to work back into things.

I know this is going to sound really radical, but since I've come home, we have basically been vegetarians. Kent bought this awesome cookbook called Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone, by Deborah Madison. This is part of a review for the book:

What Julia Child is to French cooking and Marcella Hazan is to Italian cooking, Deborah Madison is to contemporary vegetarian cooking. At Greens restaurant in San Francisco, where she was the founding chef, and in her two acclaimed vegetarian cookbooks, Madison elevated vegetarian cooking to new heights of sophistication, introducing many people to the joy of cooking without meat, whether occasionally or for a lifetime.

I don't think I'll go totally vegetarian. But I do think when I go for meat, it will be on the chicken or fish side, and never again with pork or beef. I also learned that just because it's fish, it doesn't mean it's not full of the bad kind of fat. Some fish are very fatty. You are best to stick with cold water fish - salt or fresh water.

Anyway, that's where I'm at right now. It's nap time.

I had the best day yesterday. Each day, I try to do a little more, but I get tired very easily. Yesterday, we went to Valley Falls Park, close to our home. It's a nice park that has trails of varying difficulty. I'm not up to any uphill yet, but there was one trail that is pretty level. I manage to go .68 miles on it in total. I know it doesn't sound like a lot, but to me it felt like 5 miles. And in the evening we took another walk and altogether added up to about 1.25 miles for the day. I was pretty pleased with that.

Most everything I've done in my life has been for others. It's hard for me to remember when I've done something just for me. We've taken vacations and the like, so I guess that's for me as well. But more often than not, I'm taking care of a sick friend. This is the first time in my life that I haven't been able to honestly take care of myself. I feel like I have the stamina of an 85 year old man. I can see now why they don't tell you what recovery will be like after bypass. If they did, there would probably be fewer people having this done.

But that's behind me now, and I really didn't have a choice. Without it, I was a walking time bomb. I found out an interesting thing about my father. He had two heart attacks. I thought he had one that killed him. When he had the first one, the doctors told him to slow down and do less. In those days (1960), they didn't know a lot about risk factors. My father didn't listen to them and in August of 1961, he died of a massive heart attack.

My cardiologist feels that this can all be turned around, but it will be a shift in a lot of things. First, I have to build up my stamina to the point that I can join cardiac rehabilitation. I'm not there yet. They are hoping that in a couple of weeks, I can build myself up to do that.

Another milestone last night was going out to dinner. For the last 3 weeks, I've been staying at home. Kent wanted me to get back into life and go out to dinner. I admit I was a bit concerned about it. I wasn't sure if I should push it too much. But we had a great time. We went to a place called Max Fish. There, you can get just about anything you want. We both had the same thing - medium grilled salmon over salad greens with a lite sherry vinegarette. It was really delicious, very low in fat, and all the good stuff from the fish.

Now I'm off to take my afternoon walk. Have a nice day everyone.

I left the following letter at whitehouse.gov...

Dear President Obama:

Over the last few months, I've become increasingly disappointed in your inability to take action on certain issues concerning equality for gay Americans. I voted for you, Sir. I trusted your word that you wanted real change. And yet, you seem to be just like all the other presidents before you. It's easy to make campaign promises, apparently. It seems to be another issue entirely with following through with them. That is called integrity - something I felt you had. That is why I voted for you.

So today, I'm losing hope in that CHANGE you spoke of; your failure to do anything about Don't Ask, Don't Tell, as very qualified military personnel continue to be drummed out of the service solely because of their sexuality, ON YOUR WATCH, AS YOU DO NOTHING.

And just last week, your Justice Department actually defended the Defense of Marriage Act, an Act that you yourself stated was unconstitutional during your campaign. You had stated that you were going to get rid of DOMA, not defend it. I've been with my partner for 35 years. And when we get married next June, we'd like to be on equal footing with other married couples in this country, at least as far as our federal government is concerned. We can't do that. Not as long as the Defense of Marriage Act stands. Honestly, you were our last hope at seeing equality in our lifetime. How disappointing this has been for us.

I understand that you have "bigger issues" to cover than tending to a small minority of people. But Mr. President, the U.S. Constitution, that you swore to defend, is not being lived up to. We have a minority in this country where it is the day to day business to discriminate against that minority. That should be a huge issue to you. It flies in the face of equal protection, and you do nothing. When are you going to act, if ever? What are you waiting for?

And here's a bit of irony for you. You have vowed to have universal health care for all Americans. So today I read that you were extending the benefits for the partners of gay federal workers, EXCEPT FOR HEALTH CARE. How ironic is that?

We aren't asking for too much. We aren't asking for anything that other people don't already have. We are simply asking for the basic dignity that comes with equality. Of all people, I would have thought you would understand that. As our President, you should be fighting for that.

Sincerely,

Bill Cannon
Connecticut

I was trying to think of a title for this entry, and this seemed appropriate. I've been away for so long and I have basically a different body now. So in a way, it is like building myself up and into this new body.

Tomorrow marks the one week anniversary of me coming home. I would have made an entry or two, but trust me, it's better this way. I was in so much pain and taking so much pain management, that it probably would not have made sense. And, my energy levels are low, so I have to gauge my activities and pace myself.

If you ask anyone who's been through bypass surgery, most won't tell you of the incredible pain that follows surgery. You are basically bed ridden for a period of time in ICU and then in another wing for cardiac recovery. There, you are monitored very closely. I was one of the more remarkable patients I guess. Most stay close to a week. I had my operation on Friday morning, June 5th. I left the hospital on Tuesday, June 9th. I think the reason people who have been through bypass don't dwell on the pain aspect of the procedure, is because you really have little choice in the matter anyway.

And during this time, the hospital gave me pretty much anything I asked for in terms of pain management. I was on Oxycontin, which didn't completely handle the pain. But when you mix it with high levels of Percocet, it takes on a whole new realm of pain management. No pain. No.. nothing really. But it was better than the alternative at the time.

Kent told me that when I came out of the operation, they kept me under anesthesia for a few hours. They wanted to make sure I wasn't bleeding inside and if I was, they didn't want to bring me out, only to have to put me back under again to go back inside.

Kent called hours later and the nurse said that they would be waking me up, and that they could come to the hospital. When they got there, they had brought me into consciousness, although I don't remember it. When they arrived I was still on the respirator. So the first memory I have is waking up and seeing all these people around me. My hands and feet had been tied down, and I had all this equipment on me. I could hear alarms sounding, which was from the respirator. And then a nurse telling me to stop fighting the respirator, which meant nothing to me. They eventually freed my right arm and I could feel the tube in my mouth, and every time I tried to utter a word, an alarm would go off. I didn't even have the ability to make a sound with my voice box. So, I used sign language to tell my family that I loved them. I looked up and saw Kent and Mom over me. That's when I knew I would be ok, that I was alive.

I guess I was so determined to communicate that they had to find a clipboard I could write notes on. They turned off the respirator not long after Kent and Mom arrived to see if they could remove the tube. I almost made it, but alarms started going off, so they decided to wait. After an hour or so, they told Kent and Mom to leave the room so that they could remove the respirator. I guess removing a respirator is not a pretty sight. I know I didn't enjoy it. In any case, when Kent and Mom came back twenty minutes later, I didn't have a respirator tube in me, and I could actually talk.

I stayed in ICU for a day, and was then transferred up to my own room on the eight floor; cardiac recovery. That's where I stayed until I was released on Tuesday, June 9th.

My family were so amazing this entire time. Our folks came out from Idaho to help us along. And Kent was always there. There were some things about the hospital that were kind of inconvenient. I couldn't get to my website and could only go to certain types of websites because they had tight restrictions on what they would let people view, not that I had much energy to do that anyway. But, I was there for care, and they are one of the top rated hospitals in the country for this. That was more important to me. And, they allowed Kent and the folks in without giving me grief about our relationship. The only grief I got was from a health insurance agent, who kept wanted my "next of kin" for some form she had to fill out. I kept giving her Kent's name. She finally gave up and said, "Ok, I guess we'll skip over that question."

Friday was the first day I've been home all by myself. I spend most of my time reading, watching TV, and resting. And I take naps throughout the day. I've lost a lot of stamina. If I go up the stairs, I'm out of breath. It's going to take a lot of time to build that back up. I'll have to be patient.

I want to thank all the people who sent cards, letters, flowers, and left comments. It means the world to us that others care so much. I never thought I had so many friends. It's really a humbling experience. It's good to be back!

The title says it all. When Dad and I visited Bill yesterday afternoon, we learned that they are going to discharge him from St. Francis Hospital today! I can hardly believe it. It was only Friday morning when we took him in, and they're sending him home today.

He's looking good. He walks around on his own -- slowly. And while we were there yesterday we watched as he climbed a flight of stairs on his own -- slowly, but also only half an hour after they walked him around the entire floor. They had an oxygen monitor and a heart monitor on him the whole time and everything looked good. He still tires quickly, but he was much better yesterday than he was on Sunday. He's impatient, so he thinks he should be recovering faster, but I think he's making remarkable progress.

And later today Bill will be home!

Thank you for all the kind words and support. Once Bill is here and on our home network where he can see them (I did print out copies and take them to the hospital yesterday, but I don't know if he's had a chance to look at them), I know he'll be touched by all the concern and affection.

They're taking very good care of Bill at St. Francis, and we've had no problem with visiting, even though we're not legally married yet. My parents have been able to visit too. That's all good.

But it is a Catholic hospital, so we can't expect everything to be reasonable.

Bill's still in a lot of pain. They have him on oxycontin and percocet this morning. But when I talked with him, he was using his laptop to do a little web surfing. I suggested that he drop by here to see the nice comments that you've been making. He tried to, but he couldn't.

Why?

So the powers that be at St. Francis think this blog is objectionable. I guess I'm not surprised. It is a Catholic hospital. I'm just glad we haven't had any trouble with visiting.

Bill is doing well. They moved him from the intensive care unit to a private room on Saturday afternoon. By Sunday afternoon when Mom and I visited him they had removed most of the tubes from his body. He has only the IV tube in his right arm left. He's able to get up and move around his room. While we were there, a nurse took him on a walk around the floor. Being Bill, he was determined to go all of the way around the floor -- and he almost made it. But he overdid it, got a little wobbly, and we had to find him a chair. He was tired for the rest of the time we were there.

He was off oxycontin for most of the day, but last night the pain was returning, and they gave him a dose to help him sleep. He doesn't like it, and he wants off as soon as possible.

All in all, he's doing very well -- considering what his body has been through. He has a laptop in his room, but he hasn't felt up to using it. But I suspect you'll see him back here with his own report before the week is through.

Thank you for your support. It means a lot to both of us.

My parents and I got Bill to St. Francis this morning at 5:15am. We left him at the doors of the operating room a little before 7:00am. At about 12:45pm, his doctor came to tell us that the operation had gone very well. He bypassed two blockages in his left anterior descending artery and was pleased with the result.

Mom and I saw him in his room in the Intensive Care Unit -- twice. He was asleep both times. There's a little blood draining from his chest cavity, and the doctor will keep him asleep in case they have to go back in to close something up. He doesn't think they'll have to, but he's not taking any chances. The second time we saw him, the attending nurse said that the bleeding had pretty much stopped.

In spite of still being under a general anesthetic, having a respirator breathing for him, and having a couple 1cm tubes coming out of his chest, he looked pretty good. His color was good, his heart rate was moderate, and his heart rhythm is regular.

I'll report back with more news later.

Thank you for all of the love and support you've given Bill over the last month. It was very hard for me to be half a world away while all of this was happening. (I returned home Wednesday afternoon.) I know it made this whole ordeal a lot easier for Bill knowing that he has so many friends who care about him.

Oh. If you're wondering why I'm making this post today, when his operation was scheduled for yesterday, it's because they called Wednesday morning to reschedule the operation for today. Apparently there was someone in very bad shape who needed the operating room, and they had to "bump" Bill to today. In one way, it was too bad. He was mentally ready for it to happen yesterday, and the re-scheduling gave him an extra day of anxiety. In another way it was nice. It gave the two of us and my parents a day together before the operation that we wouldn't have had otherwise. We had a lazy day, including a nice picnic lunch at Soapstone Mountain.