The 80’s were known as the “Me” decade. I’d like to start referring to this one as the “Anybody But Me” decade, because I am beginning to feel royally pissed at what’s been happening to my body. Which if it were a car would be a Yugo.
As you know I had the ablation on Friday, and was starting to slowly feel better with each passing day. But on Monday my breath had become increasingly shallow, and by this morning I’d get winded if I jumped to a conclusion. So I called the electrophysiologist who essentially told me to “come in now.” Which I damnrightly did.
After performing an EKG (and lo and behold it turns out that is NOT the same thing as an electrocardiogram so now I don’t know what those letters stand for) the doctor came in and told me that I was back in afib! He couldn’t have told me I was back on Singer Island? That I could accept. But no, I wasn’t imagining things I really had irregular heartbeat. He asked me if I’d been feeling it and I said yes but thought it couldn’t be because we’d just successfully gotten rid of it I’d even read the report on line so what the hell??!
It turns out that the act of ablation itself - which is like a burning off - can cause some inflammation that recreates the irregular rhythm, as afib is caused by some funky arterial structuring. And in some cases that restructuring can require what they call a cardio version, which means they zap your heart back into its proper rhythm. I’d swear I’m getting a medical degree by osmosis here. Of course I’m in that small subgroup of ablation patients, but the good news is I don’t need another ablation and this procedure is a lot less invasive or time-consuming. By this point things have been shoved up my nose more often than cocaine straws up Richard Pryor’s.
What he did do is put me back on one of the heart meds I was on before the ablation, at a much higher dosage than before, to keep things calm until I have the cardio version next Thursday. Afterwards, I’ll be gradually weaned off that med over time instead of it simply being yanked from my drug menu.
But I have to admit this isn’t nearly as much fun as it seems.
In the meantime, for those of you who are as sick of hearing about my health as I am of discussing it, the next few blog entries will be addressing totally different issues - the good Lord willin’ and the creek don’t rise.
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