a heart-stopping moment

Sitting here this morning in waiting mode. A bit in the limbo department. A liminal space between before-the-procedure (been a bit ropey) to the rest-of-my-life (hopefully cured).

I've been waiting for this simple heart procedure (DCCV -Direct Current Cardioversion) to attempt to sort out the Atrial Fibrillation I've been living with since last June, when one day my heart just suddenly went into 'athlete performing at the very top of his physical capability on a track in front of a packed house' rate, when actually I was just weeding in between the tomato plants in the greenhouse.

Recently my blood pressure has been a concern on top of this, but mostly the now doubled dosage beta blockers - also on blood thinners to decrease the possibility of clotting and having another stroke - have at least got me this far relatively unscathed.

The heart rate has now slowed to close to normal, but the rhythm is still tik-tok--tik---tok----tik-tok-tiktoktiktok-------ticking.
Not what you'd call metronomic.

Now, on the fourth attempt to get my blood tests clear for the procedure to go ahead, I've managed to pass, and it is finally set for tomorrow.

My wife asked me yesterday how I feel about it all, now it's definitely happening, and I answered "Great. Looking forward to feeling better." Am I worried? "What about?"

The chances of anything going wrong are probably in low single digit percentages. In fact the procedure itself, basically an electric shock, takes seconds. And I explained that the way I see it is, if there were to be any problem, then being already asleep under a general anaesthetic on an operating table, in a hospital surrounded by doctors with cardiac expertise, is a pretty good place to be if anything further untoward happens with my heart.

Of course, last night's sleep was then interrupted with me trying to work out what actually could go wrong. Even though my logical brain was telling my unconscious it would all be fine, some curious scenes about power cuts, lightening strikes, and something odd to do with a drunken and angry orangutan breaking in to the operating room with an axe, a la Jack Nicholson, bubbled up. 

This last one was obviously a vestige of the Terry Pratchett I'd been reading before going to sleep. I woke up after telling it "Piss off, monkey!", which is probably for the best.

So today is just a use it up and take it easy day. There's nothing in particular I have to do for preparation now. I'll walk the dog later, have lunch, and enjoy a peaceful snooze in the afternoon. Maybe joke about a bit on the socials, then prepare and eat an evening meal with Mrs S. Very simple. 

I'll be leaving doing anything shocking until tomorrow.