My dad’s back in the hospital. He is slowly moving forward toward his TAVR ‘procedure.’
As Billy Crystal pointed out in City Slickers, “You’ll call it a procedure, but it’s a surgery.”
Tomorrow is a CT scan. This sizes my dad’s heart to decide how large his new valve will be. Because of the radioactive fluid which will be pumped through his arteries and his weakened kidneys, this is difficult diagnostic test.
He’ll rest a few weeks after the scan, monitoring his kidneys all the way, before proceeding with the TAVR.
I read his hospital consent form last night. Twenty pages of scary but unlikely outcomes. I’m not even sure I understood everything. It makes no difference. There is no choice to be made.
This is elective surgery in only the broadest sense. His life is threatened without treatment.
We continue to be optimistic, no one more that my father. He is weak of body, but strong of will. He’s peaking at the right time.