1:16am. Wednesday, 18 July.
The high heart rate is Atrial Fibrillation.
The nurse seems in a bit of a panic but it could also be that I’ve just come out of a very long sleep.
Nurse: Your heart rate is very erratic!
N: Can’t you feel it?
Me: Er, no.
I try and control my breathing to get my heart under control. No luck! It’s bouncing around 120-130 bpm.
Having never been in this situation before I begin to wonder how serious this is. The nurse is acting like it is very serious.
I wonder: is this the time they bring the family in to say goodbye?
Matt Mullenweg, the founder of WordPress, has a blog at ma.tt.
He doesn’t post often but I like what he does post and I thought this was worth re-posting, especially when you are going through “stuff”.
So I’m just gonna leave this here. Hope it helps.
Seneca on Friendship
If heart surgery wasn’t enough, I’m booked in for a sleep study. This is to see if I have sleep apnea, which could also affect my heart so may as well get everything looked at.
(Quite) a few forms to fill in.
(Quite) a few: are you allergic to anything? What is your name and date of birth?
Then all the wires being attached while the nurse makes small talk. Pleasant enough.
Not sure how I’m going to sleep wired up like the bionic man!
Next morning: apparently I did sleep, but not too well according to the results.
Monday, July 9 was my son’s birthday. Friday is the FBH’s. We plan a dinner at La Capannina’s in Scarborough.
Dinners with the family are one of my favourite events, whether it’s a birthday or not. So, after the couple of week’s we’ve had, we are looking forward to this more than ever.
It’s a wonderful night celebrating Her birthday. She is spoilt for gifts. The kids throw love at Her like it’s going out of fashion.
We stay overnight at the Rendezvous Hotel. A great way to end the week and chill before the week ahead.
Friday, 13 July
There’s another person involved in this journey… the FBH!
I have to deal with the physical, emotional and mental side but she has to deal with the emotional and mental side.
That makes it harder for her in a way. She has to stand by and watch and “make do”. She’ll need support as well and, while I’m recovering, I’m not sure I’ll be the one to supply it.
We discuss this as we head into this change in our lives and tell her how much I feel for her.
I apologise for putting her in this situation.
Back at work waiting for the call from the Cardiologist.
I get 3 or 4 random calls between Thursday and Friday! I never get random calls!
I have to leave meetings just in case it’s … the call!
To say I was a little on edge would be putting it mildly.
Eventually the call came mid afternoon Friday.
“Yes, the recommendation is open heart surgery.”
“I have a good surgeon for you, probably the best in Perth. He does the heart transplants at Fiona Stanley Hospital!”
“You have an appointment with him on Monday!”
Friday, July 6
*”And so here I am, waiting in the lobby, sweating bullets in this stupid old suit …” to have this angiogram done.
They wheel me in, slip the needle into my wrist to send the dye through to the heart. The specialist sees my tattoo and comments about running marathons.
“Quite a few ultra runners have heart disease issues.”
I’m lying on the gurney as he starts sending the dye through.
“Hmmm, we have a major, a serious and a minor blockage.” Or something to that effect.
He walks me through what he sees and, really, for the first time, I know I have some shit to deal with.
Try as I may, I can’t stop the tear running down my face.
*”I don’t want to be alone” – Billy Joel