This is not my usual kind of post, but I am not in my usual state of mind. I had an appointment at my pacemaker clinic this week. These appointments are usually happy, upbeat meetings with some of my favorite people at my cardiology office. Sarah, my usual tech, was not there. In all fairness, the lady who took care of me was kind and professional. She can't help but report what she sees. However, she's not Sarah. Sarah has become the cardiological equivolent of my bartender. I have cried with her and rejoiced with her. I feel comfortable admitting to being terrified in her presence, and she has been strong for me when I was a hot mess. She even lent me a book written by another of her patients that really helped me through the acceptance of my diagnosis. Everyone should be so lucky to have a Sarah. She works somewhere else now. So will my favorite cardiologist. And I'm just a little lost without them.
So anyway, I made friendly chitchat with the new tech while she worked her magic. This includes her manipulating my heart rate with her computer to make sure my device will pace when my heart rate dips below 40 beats per minute. Yes, it is exactly as it sounds. She types in codes that slow my heart rate then makes sure the pacemaker speeds it up. Real science fiction, this machine in my chest! She tells me I haven't been shocked lately. I knew this. I would notice. It's like a Chuck Norris kick to the chest while you grab the electric fence. My elbows would still be vibrating, and my mouth would taste metallic. I guarantee I would notice. Nope, no shocks here! I should be happy. I should feel lucky. I do.
But I'm so angry!
I watch my heart beat on the monitor, and I see how sloppy my rhythm is. I know what this means, I can feel it. Most days I just ignore it, or put on my happy face, or plunge myself into the necessary tasks of raising my kids at home, and enjoying the company of my grown ones. Looking at the monitor, I can't just pretend I don't see it. The tech and I discuss the possible therapies that could make my rhythm more comfortable (but will put extra stress on my ventricles.) I should be thankful that these options exist, and I am....
But today I'm angry. Why?
BECAUSE I HAVE FRIGGIN HEART DISEASE!!! I AM TERRIBLE AT HAVING A GOOD HEART RHYTHM! BECAUSE I'M SCARED! BECAUSE I WANT TO LIVE PAST 50!!! BECAUSE I DON'T WANT TO BE A BURDEN OR A PITY CASE! BECAUSE I DON'T WANT TO BREAK MY FAMILY MEMBER'S HEARTS WHEN I DIE! BECAUSE I WANT TO MAKE THIS WORLD A BETTER PLACE AND I DON'T KNOW HOW! BECAUSE I WOULD LIKE MY EXISTENCE TO MATTER! BECAUSE I DON'T KNOW HOW TO FIX THIS! BECAUSE I AM STILL HERE WHEN IT FELT SO NICE TO BE IN GOD'S ARMS! BECAUSE I'M TRYING TO DO WHATEVER IT IS I'M STILL HERE FOR, BUT I DON'T HAVE A CLUE WHAT THAT IS!!! BECAUSE NO ONE HAS A WAND THEY CAN WAVE TO MAKE THIS ALL GO AWAY! BECAUSE I SHOULD BE THANKFUL, AND I AM ANGRY. BECAUSE SOME DAYS IT JUST SUCKS.
Whew. It feels good to get that out. I'm just a real live person with real live fears. I know I have it better than some, and worse than others. I try to keep it all together and handled, but we all have our moments of weakness. Thank you for allowing mine.
Want to know why I should feel thankful? Here's why:
Read more: http://www.hrsonline.org/News/Fact-Sheets/SCA-Facts#ixzz2s87LkcnA