Skip Granger, 1960
My doctor, Curtis Robinson, was a friend, and not just
because he liked the Starry Night wines that I brought him. I was also a friend of his father, who had been the first black US Federal Marshal. My heart had always been quite healthy, thank God. But at one examination a few years ago, he looked at me in amazement and said, ”I hear a murmur.” My father had such a murmur that lasted just long enough to cause him to fail his enlistment physical for WWII; so, I hoped for the same result, but twas not to be.St. Francis Hospital, San Francisco
Marin General Hospital, Marin, CA
Curtis sent me to the best cardiologist in Marin, Dr. Robert Sperling, whose father had saved my dad’s life during a visit to Marin in 1998. Funny how these medical things all run in the family. He confirmed Curtis’ diagnosis and sent me to our top heart surgeon, Dr. Keith Korver. After a thorough examination and some reflection, he told me that he would not attend to my problem. ”You will be rushing through an airport and fall over with a heart attack, but I have been considered the top cardiac surgeon in Northern California for over 20 years years, and I am not going to let you ruin my record of no deaths just because of your weight. You need to lose 30 pounds and then come back to me.” So in rapid order, I lost 35 pounds and returned.
Keith’s ”Korving hand” seemed to be shaking with anticipation, and he wanted to do surgery right away. We had plans, but mainly I did not want annual memories of the worst pain that I have ever endured; so I said, ”Keith, get your calendar, and put me down for the first thing on February 29th, and I expect to be your only surgery that day.” He said that his assistant took the appointments, but that mine was unique; so he booked it. And he didn’t even drink wine! My heart surgery anniversary comes along once every four years!
In that vein [of thought], I returned to Dr. Sperling for a test in which they inserted a tube in my groin and ran it up to my heart. To do the procedure, they gave me mild anesthesia. As it was taking effect and I was getting drowsy, Robert told me that he was on the board of a charity and hoped that I might donate some wine. His assistant, also a friend, said, ”Dr. Sperling, you can’t possibly be asking Skip for wine under these circumstances!” Needless to say, I donated the wine.
I wish that I could say that my open heart surgery all went smoothly, but I have a large neck with a small hole in the middle of it. When they inserted the camera along with the breathing tube, something went wrong.
The next day, they moved me to the floor with the regular inmates, and when Robert saw me he was visibly upset. He realized that I could not eat, and I realized that if I could not swallow, I could not taste wines – a major requirement of my being on our FWC Wine Board of Directors for 14 years. I was told that I could not bring any wine into my private room; so I had Mary Ann bring in 6 bottles and stand them on the counter in full sight. The first person that did me a favor I asked to bring me a bottle of zinfandel or chardonnay to sign, their choice, and when they left the room smiling with bottle in hand, word spread quickly and my service was extraordinary!
But all did not end there. I asked when I would be able to swallow and was told ”maybe in a week, or a month, or maybe never.” Have you ever eaten through a nose tube? Well, believe me, it’s no way to sip wine.
After a week, they took me to St. John’s Hospital in San Francisco for another week, and we brought in another case of wine, to everyone’s glee. In fact, one of my good friends practiced medicine there and he brought a mutual friend to see me; so we went into the cafeteria with a bottle of delicious Starry Night Old Vine Zinfandel, which they drank, while I sniffed and spit.
All in all, everything eventually worked out. The nurses and staff were great, except on the weekends, when no one wanted to work. Being San Francisco, I had two gay night nurses, who liked to whisper, ”Let’s give him an enema,” and I was in not position to fight those fellows. But they never did. The other issue is that I received a pig’s valve for my left aorti
c replacement. We love to go to Hawaii! When I go to luaus now, I feel cannibalistic! But on the other hand, I can find truffles – and you can’t! Cheers!
c replacement. We love to go to Hawaii! When I go to luaus now, I feel cannibalistic! But on the other hand, I can find truffles – and you can’t! Cheers!Finally – the answer to the age old question: Which is more painful, giving birth or getting kicked in the testicles?!? Neither! It is coughing after undergoing open heart surgery! And I have the pillow to prove it! Just hold it tightly to your chest and pray!!
Skip, you were lucky you could bring the wine into the hospital and get by with it! I took my CBD oil into a re-hab nursing center after getting new knees. A nurse grabbed it out of my hand and said it was not allowed, that she was going to keep it and report me to the doctor when she came on duty. I grabbed it right back and hung on as she smartly decided not to fight me. I gave it to my husband to keep after giving me pills every day. CBD is legal in DC. I was able to switch to CBD after two days on opiates. I had no pain and no problems.