Saturday, March 10, 2012

The heart of the matter.

I was going to title this post "attention whore" but I've recently been informed that some of my readers have a stick up their ass and more than likely wouldn't find the humor in that title (which, as an aside, did beg the question of well, then WHY are you reading this blog? But alas, I clearly don't care other than the fact that I'm softening what would be intended to be a humorous title. Aside from that, it's my forum, if you don't like it, don't read. And also: perhaps go look in a mirror at your own "perfections" before passing judgements along to people you don't know).

Moving on from that as this post is not even remotely about that crap.

So....

We had an exciting week in the Valente household and not of the excitement that mimics the excitement of getting married, going on vacation, or having a baby. No, no... this was more of the terrifying excitement that you never want to experience nor are you ever truly prepared to experience.

Wednesday around 11:30 am I met up with Justin briefly and was chatting ignorantly about my day when he sort of looked at me in a funny way and said, "I think I actually might go to the emergency room."

At which point I started shaking and thought "I think I actually might throw up." For anyone that knows my husband, you KNOW that he could be on his death bed before he actually says the words "I feel sort of bad." Trying to get any sort of read on him if he's sick is like trying to extract teeth out of a shark. Impossible (or at least I'd assume so). He's always "doing great." Doesn't complain, doesn't ever really consider feeling bad, doesn't really get sick.

Except for Wednesday. "I think I might go to the ER."

At which point I said, ok, GO. NOW.

After talking to him for a couple of minutes and asking whether we should go to urgent care or the ER, he tells me he's had a very rapid, erratic heartbeat for about 5 hours (since 7am that morning- REALLY?!), has chest pain and shortness of breath.

At which point I was really freaking out.

We drive to the ER (urgent care was out of the question at that point after I felt his pulse) and he got rushed in as soon as they saw him and he mentioned chest pain. He looked like hell. I have to admit, it was the first time I've never had to wait in an ER (and also the first time I've ever been really truly scared out of my mind that something truly bad is happening and there's absolutely ZERO I can do). They hooked him up to an EKG immediately. I was watching and saw his pulse and almost passed out. 172 beats a minute. ARE YOU KIDDING ME? That's almost my max heart rate on my hardest runs- at the point where you almost feel like you're going to puke. But he was just sitting there. No exertion, he wasn't working out when it happened, he was just sitting. And then sitting more and it. didn't. stop. 172+ beats a minute. Then the nurse literally said, "Oh shit you are in A-fib boy." Justin was pretty out of it at this point so I said, "What the hell is that?" (Atrial fibrillation SOUNDS scary). At this point, I was uncontrollably shaking.

We were promptly ushered back to a room where he got about a million more wires hooked to him, a nurse came in with an IV to get his heart to slow down and a doctor followed about 2.5 seconds later. They weren't messing around.

Apparently atrial fibrillation is actually the most common type of irregular heartbeat but Justin's case was more serious as he had been in such a rapid, irregular rhythm for so long that morning (in fact they said it was like he had run the equivalent of TWO marathons). Their goal was to get his heart rate down and to get his rhythm back to normal via medicine and if that didn't work, they'd have to shock him. Obviously we were all hoping the meds worked.


Just after getting admitted, all hooked up and still looking sort of like hell but happier here than later (foreshadowing!)


Waiting for the IV drip to slow his heartrate down.

Eventually, the doctor came in and said tha the medicine wasn't working and we were going to have to go the shock route. I was given the option to stay or leave but of course, I opted to stay. What else was I going to do? Before it happened though, I walked out to the bathroom and cried a little bit (who WANTS to see their husband shocked? At this point I am thinking the paddles like in movies) and they start prepping to do the treatment.  After we'd been there for about 2.5 hours and Justin had a semi-shaved chest and two pads on him where the shock would be delivered, we had 3 nurses and 2 doctors in the room to do the shot (we both thought in retrospect, wow, 5 medical professionals in the room- pretty serious stuff). First up was oxygen, then the doctor to administer the propinol (the drug that killed Michael Jackson- it sedates you/knocks you out for the shock), and then the doctor administering the shock.


Here Justin is right before getting the propinol.

The doctor administered the propinol and I have to say, not one person in the room could keep a straight face. He was HILARIOUS. I mean, granted, it was a serious and scary moment but I have not laughed harder in a long time than when he was going under. He kept saying (like an old sailor drunk) "WOW, those lights, those are just INCREDIBLE. I've never done ANYTHING like this. WOW." and then "That's my wife, she's 4 months pregnant. I love her. She trusts me." (All slurred, almost unintelligible). After about 10 minutes of laughing at our poor guy under the influence, they delivered the shock which about killed ME. It wasn't paddles like I imagined, just the pads and an electronic delivery of shock where the heart stops and tries to reset but watching him so out of it jolt, and then the expression on his face where you could tell it HURT was just pure torture. Luckily, the plus of the propinol is that he doesn't remember a thing other than feeling sore afterwards. Propinol causes you to wake up 5-10 minutes later so he started to come out of it (with his hands in the air, no one could figure that one out). He kept talking about "get the 15's" so we are convinced that he was training in his semi-consciousness. Pretty cute.


A picture of him as he was coming out of the shock/sedation. He'd finally put his arms down. Looking pretty unhappy here.. or just totally out of it. Probably a bit of both.

He woke up and was amazed that he'd only been out for 20 minutes or so...and that his heart finally felt normal. Unfortunately, the shock treatment didn't work and he went back into a-fib. They gave him medicine to get his heartrate down even further and consulted a cardiologist to see if he should get another shock. The cardiologist said "NO", monitor him for another couple of hours, then send him home with heart lowering medication and let the heart convert to a normal rhthmn on its own...oh, and also: come and see me as soon as possible (aka tomorrow).

So, we were there another couple of hours. We were released after another blood test revealed that there was no damage to his heart (which the doctors couldn't believe after being in a-fib for so long- they said if he wasn't in such great shape it could have been catastrophic). He still felt understandably beat up and out of it but eventually we headed home after a good 6 hours at the hospital. We stopped off to get his version of comfort food (gummy bears and ice cream) and the medicine for the night. We laid low at home that night and tried to get him comfortable and tried to relax despite all of the emotions of the day. Needless to say, it was a rough night with not much sleep.

The next day, we headed to the cardiologist where we found that his rhythm had gotten back to normal finally. We also talked in depth to the doctor about a-fib. Basically, like I said, it's the most common type of irregular heart beat and the "normal" causes are nothing that Justin does or has (overweight, smoking, alcoholism, drugs, old age). The cardiologist said that he would be testing him to rule out any other conditions that could cause it (like thyroid problems as well as doing an echocardiogram to ensure the heart itself is in good shape) but he doesn't expect to find anything based on all other results. Basically he said that in someone Justin's age and good physical health, it's usually just a freak one-off that is more of a nuisance than anything else and we just have to watch it to make sure it doesn't happen again. And, if it does, take the appropriate actions to slow the heart down and get it to convert. Bottom line: there is no cause. I think we're both still undecided on if this is a good or bad thing but I think it's mostly good... it COULD have been way worse. Justin's doing everything already that would "prevent" this (exercise, eating well, not smoking, not excessively drinking, etc) so it was weird that it happened but at least now we know what it is and that all is ok.

At the end of the day? Justin's humor was back, he was back...all was well. He joked he was jealous of my "two" heartbeats (mine and the baby) so he needed to get his as high as the baby's (160) to get some attention of his own... and quipped that "he just wanted to spend more time with me." (IE: the humorous original title of attention whore- all Justin's words). We laughed, we cried, we held each other and we realized that we are very lucky to have our health and each other. It was scary, it was humbling, and it added perspective to what's really important in life (sad that sometimes it takes moments that rock you to the core to bring you back to what matters most). At the end of the day, all that REALLY matters is who you love, how you show it, and that you tell them as often as you can. All the other crap is really just trivial. A good lesson to remember.

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