There are situations in life when I could believe that a person only needs two tools: WD-40 to make things go and duct tape to make them stop. Neither of which apply to my blood pumping gizmo situation.
On Friday I experienced a procedure that I can only describe as mild torture performed in the name of medical treatment. One is expected to say that they wouldn't wish that kind of experience upon anyone. However if I were completely honest with myself I would admit there are a number of people on my sh*t list that I would love to torture in just such a way.(You know who you are.) But I digress...
I spent three+ hours in the operating room with only a smidgen of lidocaine for the incision feeling like I was hooked up for surround sound with buttons and superglue-laden patches everywhere except my ass (practically). The assumed experts controlled my heart like a reckless, hormonally brain damaged 16 year old boy joy riding in his dad's muscle car with law enforcement in hot pursuit. (Crazy I tell you!) And just when I thought there were no brakes on this runaway car, they would slam them to the floor board without warning... stopping my heart 3 times in less than 30 minutes.
Finally they put my heart in park (guess they finally found the duct tape or ran out of WD-40) and told me the news.
Let me add here that I would never want to go through that procedure again unless I was guaranteed it would once and for all fix my heart. Of course in the world of medicine there are no guarantees. Even though the cardiac surgeon was 90% certain that he could stop my heart's electrical system from going haywire with this fairly straightforward procedure, once he got inside for a good look-see he decided that my heart symptoms were too risky for the "fix it" treatment.
I was broken and not just my heart. If I was going to have to go through that experience I by-golly felt that I deserved to be fixed... to mark that concern off my list. Instead I am destined to be on heart medications indefinitely and keep my fingers crossed that they work or at least don't cause even more heart problems. I haven't brought myself to start taking 'the big one' (or TBO for short) yet. It is sitting on top of my fridge... waiting. I am having a difficult time making myself go there. I am not ready to go through yet another round of the latest medication, the latest horrible list of possible side effects (which let's face historical precident, I will be good for at least a few of those dubious side effects), the latest... any of it! I keep telling myself tomorrow, tomorrow- tomorrow I will start that stuff. So since today is my birthday and who wants to start new meds on their birthday, I will plan to start them tomorrow... night.
For the record, this sucks big time by the way.