i got rhythm
by Bella Rum
I just had to post that cute batman costume.
Isn’t he the best Batman you ever laid eyeballs on?
I sincerely thank all of you for your wonderful and kind comments, your good wishes and prayers. I appreciate them more than you know. I love the community of blogging, and I’ve gotten so much from it over the years. It’s impossible to explain it to those who haven’t experienced it. You’re the best! I’ll be popping around to visit all your blogs very soon.
I’m feeling great. So very happy to have this cardioversion thing behind me and thrilled that it was successful. I know that I may have to do it again because it’s common for the heart to slip back into A-Fib, but today is a very good day. It’s a little hard to believe that they can shock your heart in the morning and send you home in the afternoon, or is that just me? But they will get no argument from me. I’m glad to be home.
My doctor told me that I’ll have to stay on the Coumadin for the rest of my life. Even though the heart is back in rhythm, the vascular wall is damaged and I’m still at risk for a stroke. So, there you have it. Stroke or Coumadin? I’ll take the Coumadin.
Everyone was very nice. I had the best nurses and anesthesiologist. They allowed H and my friend to come back to my small room where they hooked me up to monitors, drew blood, took an EKG, and asked millions of questions about everything from my social security number to how much I weigh. You know I hate that last question even now.
I was less nervous because H and Patsy were telling stories and keeping me laughing. It was a relaxed atmosphere.
Eventually they shooed H and Patsy out of the room. They went to the cafeteria while we got down to serious business. Well, the cardiologist and anesthesiologist and nurses did. When the anesthesiologist released the drug that was made famous by Michael Jackson (propofol) into my vein, I went to a happy place of which I have no recollection. I can’t recall one single thing.
About an hour earlier she had assured me that this time the drug and patient would be in good and capable hands. She also calmed my concerns about experiencing nausea after the procedure, telling me that I would wake “clean.” She was right. I came out of it without struggle and experienced almost no aftereffects or side effects.
When I woke, the doctor said, “You were a lot of fun. You talked through the entire thing.” Then he winked and saluted me and said, “Yes, you are a Southern girl.” Apparently I announced to all of them that I was a Southern girl as if it was a very important point.
Then the nurse came in and started laughing. She told me I kept them in stitches and that at some point I exclaimed, “I do love good drugs.” She said this cracked up the anesthesiologist. I told H that I can’t help myself. Whenever there are more than two people in the room, I feel obliged to entertain them – even when I’m getting my heart jump started.
I promptly went to sleep when I got home, woke for dinner and went back to sleep after watching a little television. My skin was a little sensitive where the peel and stick pads had been placed over my heart and on my back. When I breathed deeply, I felt a sharp pain in my top right rib, but it was gone by this morning. H and I took a walk this morning, and then I started sweeping the porch and doing a few things outside because it felt so good to be outside, but H made me stop and told me to take it easy for one day.
It’s a beautiful fall day here. The air has just the right kind of sharpness to it and H raked leaves. It smells so earthy and full. A huge pot of navy beans with a ham hock is simmering on the stove, and I’m wearing my most comfortable sweats. I have an audio book to listen to now and H to hang out with when he wakes from his nap. It’s not a spectacular day in any way in the cul-de-sac, and that’s a good thing.