The first few days following my departure from the hospital grew increasingly more challenging. Part of the difficulty was due to my own refusal to accept the seriousness of my condition and my lack of common sense about how to handle the problems I faced. The rest of the difficulties were purely and simply due to the immediate limitations a person faces when trying to rebound from such an invasive procedure, however temporary they might be. Below is a daily journal of the feelings and events I faced as they happened, most of which I compiled from the ongoing dialog between myself and the marvelously supportive members of the Dead Runners Society by way of the Internet.

March 29th - 31st

The family on hand was composed of sister, Donna and husband, Dr. Cliff, their three kids, Amanda, John and Russ, along with my mother and father, who had refused remain on the sidelines back in Florida though both were close to 80 years of age. The first test came when they picked me up from DHMC Saturday night, stuffing me into the crowded car and driving around for half an hour looking for a pharmacy to fill a prescription for the percoset I was on. The tablet version proved to be a noticeable downgrade from that which I received intra-venus during my hospital stay. But anything was better than getting hit with the real  pain! When I arrived at the New Hampshire house which a co-worker, Allan, had so graciously loaned to my sister for the week, I went straight for the easy chair and claimed it as my bed. (To my surprise, this vacation home was coincidentally located in the exact area of Eastman NH where eight years prior I placed 4th in a 5K race - no need be impressed, it was a very small field. I recognized the pond, the winding roads and hills right away). As expected I was tired and even a little feverish again. What I hadn't counted on was the war my body waged against the multiple doses of laxatives I had used earlier in the day to try and speed up a legitimate departure from DHMC! What in the world was I thinking? I should have taken a hint from my nurse's expression when I asked for a second sepository. I had never used such a thing before. Between running and coffee I had the regularity problem under control most of the time, so what did I know? The first major discomfort I suffered was not from the break in my sternum or my incisions directly, but from the turmoil in my abdomen and the numerous trips to the bathroom I made all night. It continued for most of the next day ... Easter Sunday. Ultimately, I kept up with my dosage of pain medication about as well as I did with those bathroom visits. Once removed from the grave surroundings of the Cardiac Care Unit we all reverted to the familiarity of family silliness. It was such a joy to be surrounded by a house full of clowns, again. Of course I was right in the thick of it stationing myself in the living room as I did. But now, laughing hard as we typically did during reunions like this would cost me dearly! The pain from my chest and sore muscles around my rib cage and lower back penetrated the mask of medication now and then. Those first two nights in Eastman introduced me to the hard breathing, achiness and sweat soaked sleep I would continue to experience for the next weeks.

My family and I had a lot more fun that week than one might expect we could have given the seriousness of the surgery I endured just four days before. All of the levity, encouragement, mothering and positive stimulation fell short of instilling liveliness in me. In the same way the overdose of laxatives flooded my body with the proper sensation but, in the end, failed to cause a bowel movement. By Sunday afternoon I was way behind in sleep, delirious from fever and grey in color when I arrived at Vikki's house. Once the exchange was made after bidding my family an emotional goodbye, I landed immediately in a bed. I slept soundly from 5 to about 7:30 PM before a brief interruption for dinner. Shortly after eating with Vikki and her family, my only request for an enhancement to my quarters was honored and a reclining chair was carried from the living room into my bedroom. By 9 PM I was settled into my new bed where I slept straight until about 7 the next morning. It was a suggestion that Hannah, one of my Dead friends (from the DRS list) who had undergone OHS the year before, had offered among other extremely helpful tips. I used three pillows, two large ones for my back and a small one for behind my neck. in general I came away with a few back aches, but the thought of having to lift myself from a horizontal position each time I needed to get up was simply horrifying, pain killer and all. So it would remain this way for most of the month I lived with Vikki.

April 1st - 4th

I slept away a smaller portion of April Fool's day than I had done the day before. On my second full day back in Vermont I felt compelled to spend my time more productively, if at all possible. With some help from Vikki's son, Travis, I set up my Mac in the room designated as the computer room. I was connected and ready to go on-line again if I only had the energy to do so. Once again I succumbed to fatigue by early evening. That night I had one of the most frightening and bizarre dreams I have ever had. But the next day was Wednesday, one full week since the operation. I was terribly excited about writing to my internet friends again ... anxious to give thanks as well as report about my ordeal as though I had just run my first marathon! (It was not like I've ever run something as grueling as a marathon, but I'd never undergone OHS or spent significant time in a hospital before either). On April 2nd my e-mail correspondence resumed in a big way!

Date:     Wed, 02 Apr 1997 Subject:   Re: Speedwork, faster 10K, part IV Last Tuesday The Ancyent Marath'ner wrote: This message is dedicated to Peter "400m challenge" dellaFemina, the DRS's "token" sprinter. Peter will be undergoing delicate heart surgery tomorrow (March 26). Send positive vibes Peter's way. I think he may already be cut off from cyberspace so it is probably too late to send him an e-mail message. The heart surgery should help him become a real runner at last, that is, a marathoner. Speedwork, faster 10K, part IV More than you ever wanted to know about speedwork in four easy parts. (Dave's manuscript - deleted for sake of brevity). Jeez!!! What hoops one has to go through to get a guy in Tazmania to finish up the final entry of a valuable series on speedwork ... open heart surgery, no less! Having skimmed through it quickly it appears to have been worth the wait, Dave - nice job. I'm going to go back and read them all in succession now. I'm really looking foward to catching up on those digests I missed ... I definitely have the time to do it. I just read a bunch more notes that I missed from Deads wishing me well because I left for DHMC early. I just want to let you all know that I did receive your prayers, good wishes and vibes of strength and to testify how well all that energy worked for my survival while I was in a deep sleep Wednesday the 26th. Once unconsious I became totally removed from the situation. The success of the operation was just as much in the hands of you folks as it was the DHMC surgical team, far beyond my own control for those 3 and a half hours. I put my trust in you all that morning and you served me very well. Thank you, thank you, thank you!!! I'm disappointed to admit I have zero recollection of that time, though I did have some very bizarre nightmares a few days later that were undoubtedly related. The first person to wake me was an RN named Paula - she came into my ICCU room the next day and reminded me of it and only then did I remember her very friendly face. The first sight of my family and dear friend Vikki was quite memorable. But other than that, those 24 hours are as good as a vacuum. Some of you asked whether I could feel any difference once I was off the morphine and all. I hate to jump to conclusions too quickly, but I can't help noticing how clear my head has been since the first time they sat me up in a chair, the following morning in fact. No more of that annoying light-headedness to struggle with as I did many days for the past 8 years. This immediate benefit hasn't gone away for a moment - and I've been through some pretty wild swings in terms of energy, pain and emotions since then. Breathing, while it is still difficult to take a deep clean breath because of my broken sternum and sore chest muscles, seems unusually efficient since the operation as well. I hope I can continue to report such good news after I start exercising again in a month. Overall I am coping with the obvious limitations and difficulties for now and plan on accepting very gradual improvements each day. I'll certainly will follow up with a single full report later. But after that I'm not looking back to dwell on any of this. I'm so very happy to be alive and completely well. Thanks again to everyone - especially, Dead Hannah, who offered me a wealth of experience on dealing with recovery from open heart surgery! Running like a dog in sleep ... Peter dellaFemina

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Updated November 25th, 1997