A Heart For The Bounty of Life

You may be wondering why you haven't heard from me for a few weeks. I just got out of the hospital, again, except this time I'd scheduled the procedure in advance. It wasn't an emergency like it often is.

My cardiologist at Abbott-Northwestern Heart Hospital performed an Electrophysiology Study and ablated (destroyed) some cells in my heart that were not behaving properly. These cells insisted on creating an extra loop of electrical conductivity which interfered with my heart's regular, consistent rate. It's called AV Nodal Reentrant Tachycardia. By itself, it's not serious, but living with it for forty plus years does put a strain on a person's heart. Back in the Dark Ages of Electrophysiology, I had an EP done to try to eliminate the problem, but they were unsuccessful. It was a good thing they didn't try again then, because if they had I'd have had a pacemaker all these years. Instead, I went on medication to control my heart rate.

Now, in 2019, it was a completely different experience. In fifteen years cardiologists have learned a great deal more about mapping the electrical conductivity and pathways of the heart. I am part of a small portion of the population that has this extra electrical loop. It's not easy to obliterate that loop without damaging the Atrioventricular Node, the bundle of nerve fibers that assists in keeping the heart beating at about eighty beats per minute, but my EP cardiologist--EP is his specialty--was able to do it. And he's a nice guy, to boot. He was very pleasant and informative to speak with, while also exhibiting compassion and care. He didn't arrogantly  build up my expectations of his work, nor did he cringe outwardly at the thought of what he knew might be a difficult procedure. He was just confident in his abilities. His confidence made me feel certain I was in good hands, though we didn't know exactly what the out come would be this time. We agreed he wouldn't do anything that would cause me to have a pacemaker.

My cardiologist was only one cog in the system. There were about fifteen people who were also members of the team that cared for me. Two anesthesiologists, three surgical nurses, transport aides, post-anesthesia recovery nurses, at least two nurses who cared for me during my overnight observatory stay, more aides, and we surely can't forget the staff who  cleaned and prepped the surgical suite and the room I slept in overnight. All were pleasant, efficient and cheerful in welcoming me to the various rooms and suites. Having worked at this hospital in the past, I know there is a high level of excellence expected from the staff, and they perform up to that level. The result of this is that the hospital is able to afford to choose its technology wisely. The surgical suite was well-equipped. Electrophysiological equipment is high-tech, so the suite used for EP's reminded me of  watching a show like Grey's Anatomy or The Good Doctor. Plus--get this--the surgical table had a layer of memory foam on it just for me, the patient, and my comfort. Discreet ties held my arms and legs down on the table, and the anesthesiologist put his head down close to my ear to speak to me, even offering to use saline wash to clean my eye when a tiny speck of lint from one of the warm blankets flew into it. I felt a bit pampered. I'm not deserving of this pampering. They did it because they care.

The result of all this, hopefully, will be that I will be able to race-walk a 5-K in five months or so without having to take any medication to slow my heart. That would be absolutely amazing and worth celebrating in a big way. What do you think I should do to celebrate? I think I'll just walk another 5-K, and another, and another...