Celebrating a Change of Heart

Two years ago, the quality of my life was not great.  The core problem, the heart of the matter, the nitty-gritty of it all, was that my heart was not working properly.  I had developed a heart syndrome called tachy-brady. Sometimes, it is also called sick sinus syndrome.  The first time I heard my primary doctor say to me "I think you have sick sinus syndrome," I was clueless as to what it meant, but I knew it wasn't good.  In truth, she was the first to come up with this diagnosis, one that the nurse practitioner at my cardiologist's office dismissed.  By the time the GP, reading the same sleep study report that my cardiologist had received, made this observation, I already had an extensive file containing drugs tried, tests done, and procedures considered for troubling symptoms of arrhythmia.

A year before the final slump with a heart not functioning correctly, I had a heart ablation to correct tachycardia, a rhythm problem that the heart will sometimes develop that will cause the heart to beat too fast.  After the ablation, I felt wonderful and was able to carry on with my life until about six or eight months later when I again began to experience a wildly beating heart that would leave me exhausted and faint.  A sleep study was ordered to see if I was getting enough oxygen at night.  I wasn't, but adding oxygen at night didn't help my faintness and exhaustion.

 Diagnosing my problem was a process.  It wasn't enough to have a GP say that she thought I had sick sinus syndrome.  Diagnosis for me involved having a small device called a loop recorder implanted in my left breast. This miraculous little device allowed my doctor to see exactly what was going on in this heart of mine when it would decide not to beat properly.  I had the recorder fewer than two weeks before it was determined that I needed a pacemaker.  

Getting that pacemaker changed my heart, the way it beat, and it changed my life.  A pacemaker gave me my life back.  Today, two years ago the miracle of modern medicine allowed for a device to be implanted in my body which would monitor my heart and keep it from going too fast or too slow.  I can now walk longer distances, walk up hills, and I can go about the business of my life with few problems with my heart.  I am so grateful.

Two years ago, just before I received the pacemaker, I remember sitting in the my chair in the living room feeling quite sorry for myself as my husband went out for a long walk in the neighborhood with the dog and without me.  I remember that while he was gone my heart rate went down in the 30's and my blood pressure plummeted so low that I had to call the doctor.  He ordered me to get to the hospital.  It was Easter Sunday.  I did not want to go to the hospital with yet another heart episode, but I had no choice.  When my husband got back from his walk, he had to take me to the hospital.  They almost implanted the pacemaker that night, but finally determined I would be safe to wait a few days for the procedure.

I don't take being able to walk at the altitude where I live for granted.  I am grateful I am able to go for my daily walks and enjoy the beauty of the world around me.  Today, the sky was as blue as it could be.  I never tire of looking at the rock formations near my home.  They fascinate me.  They remind me just why I love to live where I do.  My marmalade cat rock (I love her) looks down on me as I walk by her, and seems to say, "I'm happy to see you out and about today."  (She is the rock formation on the top right.)  The table rock on the lower right is still waiting for one you to come and join me for a tea party on her flat surface.

I never could have made it through the bouts with my health that I have had without the guy by my side, my dear and greatly loved husband.  It is so good to walk through this life with him.  I so love when we go on walks together.  Today, I said, "I love where we live," as we sat on our patio after our walk.  With my camera, I captured this laugh on his face when he brought up my one complaint about where I live, "Except for crawlspace in the basement."  Hey, I'd probably live in crawlspace with the guy, but don't tell him that.  He keeps me laughing.  He keeps me keeping on.

I can't forget how much I love my other loyal companion.  He also is always at my side.  (Except when his master is home.  Then he is by his side.)  I love my Boston boy too.

Today, was such a beautiful day.  The sun was shining.  The sky was blue.  My man was by my side.  Even the daffodils I planted around our new patio last fall were blooming.

On this glorious spring day, I was able to walk 1.9 miles, gaining 137 feet in altitude at an altitude of over 6,600 feet.  My average heart rate was 115 BPM.  Look at this cool map that shows my route.  (Thank you Jim for my Apple watch which tracks such things.)  

I could do this because of that change of heart I had two years ago.  That is something to celebrate.  

A Change of Heart

I’ve had a change of heart.

The beating of my heart had become more and more erratic.

Now, I have a 

pacemaker

 to keep things a bit more 

steady.

I’m learning to align

my mind and emotions 

with my body 

while it acclimates to a new and different heart rhythm pattern,

one more orderly,

one not yet understood.

The medical notes from the recent X-ray read:

A left subclavian transvenous bipolar pacemaker has been inserted. 

Leads project over the region of the right atrium and right ventricle.

 The notes go on to say I have a new bipolar pacemaker.

It all seems a bit surreal.

I wonder at times how those notations became a part of my medical record.

The time had come when I knew things had to change.

I simply could not go on the way things were.

Some hearts found in my study: A pink heart from blogging friends Sandi & Deb, A big heart from Vashon Island, A colorful heart made by my granddaughter Hannah,  a heart from Deb from Catbirdscout, a found heart.

On March 24, after years of irregular heart beats that never seemed to get better, a loop recorder was implanted in a very simple procedure performed by my cardiologist.  Just before the procedure, I was told that this device gave the doctors very good results very quickly.  Basically, the tiny little device, implanted just under the skin over the heart, is set to record those irregular heart beats that occur throughout the day in my heart.  Every night, at midnight, the day’s recording was wirelessly sent from the implanted device to a receiver that situated near my bed.  I felt nothing.  I did nothing.  The device in my body just talked to the device by my bedside.  Amazing.

At 8:00 the next morning, these reports were read by my doctor’s office.  If there were any events that were life threatening, I would be notified.  Of course, if I felt any of these events, I would have notified them!

For some reason, from the end of March until Easter Sunday, my symptoms just kept getting worse and worse.  I had two reactions to allergy shots that caused my heart to go a bit crazy.  In the evening of the day day of the second allergic reaction, thinking I was going to black out, I took my blood pressure.  My heart rate was listed as 48 beats a minute.  “Surely, this is a mistake,” I thought.  I am the girl with the overly fast beating heart.  I don’t have slow beats.  As the night wore one, I became more and more faint and had readings of beats in the 30’s.  My husband insisted I get to the doctor the next day.

On Good Friday, I saw my doctor.  He said the reports were showing that I was having a lot of events, “a lot” he emphasized.  “You have beats in the 30’s,” he said.  Thats a relief, thought I.  I was just sure that suddenly my blood pressure machine was not working, or I was crazy.  “You are showing us that you now have Tachy-brady syndrome.  How do you feel?”    “I feel terrible,” was my response.  I can’t function. I feel faint. I am exhausted.  I’m afraid to drive.”  

He thought we should treat the symptoms systemically for a little while to see if we got positive results.  If not, I was told I’d need a pacemaker.   I was on the low-normal range on potassium.  Knowing the potassium might help sounded reasonable.  I’d try that.  I’m not one to jump to surgery, but to be honest, I’ve heard the pacemaker suggested for too many years, and I was beginning to think it was time.

On Easter Sunday, after going to church, and then to a lovely brunch with my dear husband at the fanciest place in town, The Broadmoor Hotel, I again was faint and nearly blacked out.  My blood pressure was very low.  The exertion of the day had done me in.  At 7:00 that evening, at the insistence of my doctor’s office, I was in the emergency room.  I had a total melt down.  Sobbing to the nurse, I said, “I can’t do this anymore.  I am done.  This has to stop.”  She then told me I must calm down because in that one minute my heart had skipped 30 beats!  I calmed down. I also made a decision.  I decided that I was having surgery for a pacemaker as soon as it could be scheduled.

On Friday, April 10, my good Dr. L., my cardiologist for the past ten years, the one to whom I trust the intricacies of my heart, implanted a pacemaker.  The procedure went well.  It seemed to go quickly.  I awoke to find my kind and supportive husband by my side.  I sent him to eat breakfast while I rested.   Soon, my dear high school girlfriend, KM, was holding my hand and kissing my check while she spoke encouraging words to my heart and prayed for me.  

I came home from the hospital the next day.  I thought I would walk into the hospital, get the pacemaker, walk out, and go on with life without a bit of interruption.  It hasn’t been quite that easy.  True to form, I overdid yesterday.  I attended a tension filled meeting for my HOA.  I’m the secretary.  I thought I HAD to be there.  Wrong.  I then visited for two hours at a friend’s house.  By the time I was home my anxiety levels and stress levels were off the charts.  

The nurse calls everyday.  She says the first week is a rough one for many.  Yesterday, she said a meeting might be good.  It would keep my mind occupied.  The meeting was too stressful.  I should have stayed home.  I’m not handling stress well right now.

I go to get a device check tomorrow.  I took today off.  I have done nothing all day.  I will do the same until I am feeling stronger.

Reflections

The heart is a sensitive organ, and mine appears to be especially sensitive.

Both doctors who have done invasive procedures have said my heart was particularly sensitive to the medical instruments used, more so than the normal patient.

I wonder if the doctors saw the broken part of my heart?

The part that keeps on beating through all the sorrow.

Does a broken heart become more sensitive?

Did they see my strong heart?

The part that is resilient, full of hope, that looks forward to the future.

Did they see that I have a survivor’s heart, one that wants to overcome the hurts of the past while remembering and holding on to the love that remains for the one who is no longer here?

Did they see my loving heart?

The one that is full of so much love for my husband and my children and grandchildren.

The one that is so full of love that I want it to beat strongly so I can fill my days with their joys and sorrows and accomplishments and laughter.

The one that wants to live as fully as possible.

Modern medicine is a miracle.

I now have a computer inside my body that regulates the beats of my heart.

I hope this does not make my heart mechanical.

I’m sure that will never happen.

That little computer will just help smooth things out for me and my heart.

It is hard to wrap one’s head around it all.

I still feel the skipped beats, and the new rhythm pattern is one I don’t quite understand.

Sometimes that makes me very anxious.

I must learn to trust

the device within my heart.

I must learn to trust more fully

 the One who made my heart.

Ultimately, He controls the span of my days.  

Each day I learn anew that I must trust.

Living life fully makes trust easier to come by.

My heart has been subject to an invasive procedure.

I know from experience that this means that I will suffer some emotional side effects.

My husband, my children, my friends have been so supportive as I have prepared for and gone through this procedure that I honestly don’t know what I would do with out them.

Healing is not a liner process.

Some days are better than others.

One must learn to listen the rhythms of the body and the heart and let them work together.

Healing takes time.

I am reminded of the lesson I learned with a head injury in 2012.

Adopt the pace of nature:

Her secret is patience.

~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

A rose from my rose garden:  Pope John Paul II

A lesson from Proverbs:

A joyful heart is good medicine…

Proverbs 17:22

A life verse written out that has been on my reading table for many years:

Be of good courage, and He will strengthen your heart, all you who hope in the Lord.

Psalm 31:24

I borrow a line from a poem by Emily Jane Bronte,

not because I feel that sadness of the poem, but because I think her advice speaks wisdom to me:

Me thinks this heart should rest awhile…

I will not push through life as I am prone to do.

I will give myself time to heal.

Soon,

I’ll be walking much faster and farther,

Soon,

I’ll be able to go over 8,000 feet in elevation again.

Soon,

I will be feeling better than I have for years.

I’ve needed a change of heart.

I think this this change will be wonderful.

I never was good at keeping a beat.

My rhythm has always been a bit off.

That has been changed.

The beat goes on.

Heart Procedure Update

University of Colorado Hospital

Good news is always good news.  I am so grateful to have good news to report.  

Morning came early the day of surgery.  I'm just not an early morning person, but I had an appointment to make, so around 5:00 a.m. I rolled out of bed at the Springhill Suites across the street from the hospital and got myself ready for my big day.  

The air felt crisp and cool as I gazed a the beautiful front range of the Rocky Mountains as we walked to the car.  Reflective thoughts soothed me as I gazed at towering outlines of mountains against a sky just beginning to lighten in the dawn of day.  The verses I meditated on before bed entered my heart:  I will lift my eyes until the hills, from whence cometh my help.  My help cometh from The Lord, which made heaven and earth. (Psalm 121:1-2)  That Psalm, my Psalm, always calms my heart and reminds me I am in God's hands.  The Lord shall preserve thy going out and thy coming in from this time forth, and even for evermore.  

Once we entered the hospital, there were moments of anxiety when I wanted to say,  "I've changed my mind.  I'm not doing this."  Did you ever feel that way before a medical procedure?  Thankfully, I was surrounded by a wonderful team of doctors and anesthesiologists.  This kept my fears at bay even when I entered the surgical room.  Talk about an intimidating place!  It was huge and full of all kinds of equipment and machines and people.  I barely could see the skinny little bed where I would lie as the procedure was performed.

Once I'd entered the surgical room, and just prior to the surgery, several ice cold, large disc shaped patches were attached to my back and front.  I had been warned that I was going into a very cold room where very cold patches would be placed on me.  I asked if we could take pictures and just use this experience as my ice bucket challenge.  These discs or magnets are actually defibrillators and magnets that allow for 3-D pictures of my heart.

This catheterization, was not, as the saying goes,  my first rodeo.  I'd had a heart catheterization a year ago.  This most recent one was much more intense to me, but I was told the other procedure was actually more tricky because of the side of the heart that is catherized for an artery study.  The procedure that I had on Friday was an electrical study.

The surgery itself ended up lasting four hours.  I think my dear husband was beside himself with worry.  I was out cold for it all since I was given propofol. Or, if I were awake, I have absolutely no memory of anything, thank heavens.  The doctor had to perform a heart ablation.   This ablation should have destroyed those places in my heart that were causing arrhythmias.  During the study, I did go into atrial fibrillation (aFib) with my heart beating 200 beats a minute.  The doctors were unable to slow down the rapid beat with medication while I was in surgery, so they had to shock my heart back into rhythm using those discs that been attached to my body prior to surgery.  I'd say it is handy to have a defibrillator attached to your body!

Because the procedure was done by a catheter being fed up to my heart via an entrance in the groin, I had to lie flat on my back another four hours after surgery.  I was constantly monitored so I wouldn't cross my legs or try to bend them, or attempt to get up.  I had exceptional care during the entire time I was in the hospital.  There are only three patients for every nurse on the cardiac recovery unit.    I felt very safe and cared for.

I spent the night after surgery in the hospital.  This is always done after an ablation.  Reportedly, I had no palpitations at all, and my heart rate was good the entire time.  I did have some bouts with low blood pressure during the morning hours on the day after surgery.  My readings were as low as 88/48.  I have problems with low blood pressure at times, so this was not a new thing.  Once I was up and moving around, my blood pressure improved.

The doctor put me on a diabetic diet while I was in the hospital.  Smart move on his part, and actually, the food I had while I was there was exceptional.  For lunch just before I left to go home, I had crab cakes, delicious crab cakes, arranged on a bed of romaine lettuce, and served with fresh asparagus spears grilled to perfection, and fresh steamed spinach.  I was even allowed one half of a slice of carrot cake.  It was all very good tasting and quite satisfying.

I'm so very grateful to have this procedure behind me.  For years, my doctor has discussed the possibility of doing such a procedure, but she never felt the time had come when I needed it.  I was referred to Dr. X. by way of my wonderful G.I. doctor at National Jewish.  (She referred me to a NJH cardiologist.  He went through my records.  During a consultation with the NJH cardiologist, he said I needed to go the University of Colorado Hospital to their electrophysiology doctors and even made sure I saw Dr. X.)  There were actually two doctors of cardiac electrophysiology who attended me during my surgery, and neither one expected to find what they did once they were able to do the electrical study of my heart.  The problems just were not showing up on the holter monitors that I have worn so often.  

I look forward to again being able to walk at longer distances, hike up some hills, and just live life without episodes of tachycardia (rapid heart beat) stopping me in my tracks.  I hope to no longer be bothered by constant palpitations.  I hope to have fewer dizzy spells.  I think my quality of life just got better, much better.  I am so grateful.

Thank you to all of you that sent me good wishes.  Soon, I will be back to being able to exercise and walk.  The next battle is with the weight I've put on.  Along with that battle, I'll be battling pre-diabetes.  Onward and upward…

**I am not a medical doctor, and I have limited understanding of all that took place during my surgery.  It has been explained to me.  One doctor even drew a picture for me.  My knowledge and understanding of the procedure remains quite limited.  I've only conveyed to you what I understand.  I'm sure there were wonderful technical things done of which I have no knowledge.  Thankfully, I can leave all that knowledge to my doctors while I remain the one who benefited from their education, skill, and expertise.  

A Weekend to Remember ~ Time With Blogging Friends

I began blogging in November of 2008.  I thought perhaps my mother would read my blog, but beyond that, I didn't think anyone else would ever read it.  I decided to blog because I wanted to practice the discipline of writing.  Little did I know the worlds that blogging would open to me.  Little did I know how important my blogging community would become to me.

My very first blog reader was Jann from Benchmark 60.  That's Jann, in the photo below.  She is dressed in green and sitting in the middle on the left side of the photo. Back in those early days of blogging,  Jann commented on my blog and then encouraged me to write more blogs.  I owe my blog presence to her.  In time, in the mystical way that is the way of the blogosphere, I began to read the blogs of many other bloggers and form friendships with the blog writers.  

A year ago, two of the ladies in photo below met and decided that the rest of us should meet and spend the weekend together.  We all rented a house on Vashon Island in Washington State and spent a fabulous weekend getting to know each other.  I wrote about it here:  Vashion Island 2012.  That weekend was so magical and special, that we talked of meeting again in a year.  We decided you can't improve on a perfect location, so this past weekend, we again met at our wonderful destination spot, Lavender Hill Farm on Vashon Island.  

Breakfast out on Vashon Island

I flew in from Colorado on Friday.  We spent Friday afternoon and evening, all day Saturday, and this morning together.  We talked, laughed, read, ate, walked, and just had a wonderful time catching up with each other.  This year the weather was cooler than last.  We spent a lot of time in front of the fireplace.

The "glow chair" was moved from its spot by the window 

so we could sit together in our new favorite spot.  

The sun did not shine on our wonderful yellow chair this year.

We could not see Mt. Rainier.

We did not see blue skies.
We saw fog and mist.
It was all beautiful.

We were also rewarded with beautiful fall foliage.

The view from the porch was stunning even if it did rain. 

The lavender bed are not blooming, but lavender is always beautiful in any season to me.

Orange is the color I will carry home with me.

It seemed to punctuate every landscape

as we visited the Farmers' Market,

walked down the main street,

and 

hiked in the woods.

I have wanted to store the colors of this fall in my heart this year. 

Since the leave just began to change, I've wanted to drink in the colors every chance I got.

I was especially blessed to see the rich colors of fall in the beautiful northwest this year.

I won't forget the red, the oranges, and the vibrancy I felt on this special weekend.

These two feed the soul and the body.

Deb, in pink, just saw some wonderful bird outside the kitchen window. I was able to capture the look of awe on her face.

DJan, the adventurer, in the sky and on the shore, led the walk we took along the shore, and took my arm and helped me walk up the steep hills.

There is so much more I want to write about, but I must get some rest.

Tomorrow, I fly home.

The doctor cleared me for this trip.

My friends said he had to let me come because the time would be

good for my heart in every way.

It was.  Indeed, it was.

Thank you dear Vashionistas for another wonderful time together.

I can't wait until next year.

I will arrive home Monday afternoon.

On Tuesday morning, at 7:30 a.m.,

I will be meeting my cardiologist at the hospital.
He gave me a reprieve, for a few days, but as soon as I get home,

he will be doing a heart catheterization on me.

I am worried about the procedure because no one like to have medical procedures.

I am reassured when I consider that the doctor did let me go on this trip, so he must not be too worried, just worried enough to check everything out.  

In the meantime, I will trying to take this advice:

Keep calm 

and

Dream On.