It's Day 4 of our two weeks in Snowmass, and we've decided to skip skiing today. We normally ski every day possible, but the conditions this year are just, frankly, horrible. The base is around 30", officially, but I don't really see that. They haven't had any snow, other than the 8 inches they received on the day we flew in, and I think they've tried to move the little snow they do have around on the mountain to cover up the brown spots. It's still skiing, and we still have beautiful wide open spaces and blue skies, and as J says, it's like a really good day skiing in Vermont, so I don't want to complain. But we are so spoiled to the Colorado powder that we usually get this time of year that it's definitely taking some getting used to. I'm seriously thinking about renting skis, because every time my skis go over the rocks and trees that are scattered around on every single run, I cringe. There are deep scratches on the bottom of them, and that's only after skiing two days. They were hoping to get snow last night, the only night that snow is forecast between now and when we go home, but the light dusting that actually happened didn't even register as any accumulation. Oh well.
But we still absolutely love it here. It is so beautiful, the air is so crisp and clean, there is much to do besides skiing, the summers are beyond belief, and once we get acclimated to the altitude it just feels like home to us. Yesterday we relaxed in the morning, did a little business over coffee, and headed out to Snowmass to get in a few runs. It was a beautiful day, and the temps at the top of the mountain were in the low 20's, so it almost seemed like spring skiing, except for the lack of snow. But we tried out my new Christmas present...goggles with a video camera built in, so you can see for yourself. Watch for the little trees that stick out of the snow every now and then, and the bumps as we ski over little rocks. But it's all good!
Enjoy this footage of Big Burn and Sheer Bliss, two blue runs that weren't too bad yesterday, along with Train's new single, "Drive By"
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
Wednesday, January 04, 2012
Here's to letting go of the Routine!
It's 3:20 on a Wednesday and I haven't worked out yet. I have no idea what's for dinner and I just had lunch. I slept in until 8 a.m....something I haven't done in ages. I'm starting to get glimpses of what it will be like when H leaves for college. For the last 18 years, my life has been defined by the routines and schedules that come with being a mom. My schedule was her schedule. Bedtime, awake time, meal time, study time, cuddle time, worry time. Ah yes, the worry. Worrying about whether she was hungry, tired, warm, healthy, safe, happy...that is a constant, but the worries have progressed over the years to worrying about whether she was doing enough, doing too much, getting where she needed to be on time, doing her assignments on time, driving safely, making smart choices, not texting while driving-it never stops. It became so entrenched that I don't really remember what I did or even worried about before she was born.
H is in France. Her school has a Winterim program every January, where the 9th and 10th graders take special interest classes instead of their regular classes (Women and Finance, Music of the 60's, sewing, The Beatles, The Kennedys, etc.), and the 11th and 12th graders go off campus-to internships or travel programs either in town or out of town. H is in France doing a combination tour and home stay. She will live with a French family for 9 days in southern France, learn about their food, schools, routines, and hopefully, polish her French. It's an incredible opportunity for her, and I am thrilled she gets to do it.
She has traveled a lot in the last couple of years without us; Colorado, California, Massachusetts, Rhode Island, Vermont, Pennsylvania, Baltimore, Washington and China. Each time was a little less worrisome. At this age she is like a sponge, learning what to do and not to do when traveling (make sure her phone is charged, don't leave her computer on the plane), and at this point it has become much easier. As her parent, I always worry (probably always will), but I know she has the maturity and wisdom to take care of herself. It's also made it easier for me each time to let her go. When she was a little girl I spent the entire time she was gone writing her letters, checking the camp website for photos, worrying and thinking about her almost constantly. But the last couple of years I've begun to appreciate the unscheduled days. The time with my dear husband for late, long, leisurely meals or hiking with the dogs, sleeping in, staying out late, eating popcorn for lunch, and even increasing the times I can volunteer is growing on me.
I could write a million pages about how difficult it's been for me to "let go" (and I actually have!)...I know that part of parenting is to let her make her own decisions and mistakes...but knowing and doing are two completely different things. J tells me I "micromanage". So lately, when I think I need to stay up late to pack HER suitcase, or make sure she submits HER college applications, I have to literally make myself STOP. I didn't pack her suitcase for France. I didn't go to Walgreens to buy the toiletries and things we didn't already have. As difficult as it was, I didn't stay up late to look over her shoulder while she wrote her college essays. And you know what? It all got done. SHE packed, SHE shopped, SHE stayed up late and got the apps in on time. It's very liberating. Not easy, but it's a good feeling.
Last night we went to sleep while she was still in the air on a flight to Paris (something I wouldn't have been able to do a couple of years ago). The world didn't cave in. I woke up this morning with a really good night's sleep and had a text from her that she was there. I know the day that I take her to college, move her into her dorm room, and drive away will probably be the hardest thing I ever do. But I know she will be OK. Even more, I know that I will be OK. Eventually.
H is in France. Her school has a Winterim program every January, where the 9th and 10th graders take special interest classes instead of their regular classes (Women and Finance, Music of the 60's, sewing, The Beatles, The Kennedys, etc.), and the 11th and 12th graders go off campus-to internships or travel programs either in town or out of town. H is in France doing a combination tour and home stay. She will live with a French family for 9 days in southern France, learn about their food, schools, routines, and hopefully, polish her French. It's an incredible opportunity for her, and I am thrilled she gets to do it.
She has traveled a lot in the last couple of years without us; Colorado, California, Massachusetts, Rhode Island, Vermont, Pennsylvania, Baltimore, Washington and China. Each time was a little less worrisome. At this age she is like a sponge, learning what to do and not to do when traveling (make sure her phone is charged, don't leave her computer on the plane), and at this point it has become much easier. As her parent, I always worry (probably always will), but I know she has the maturity and wisdom to take care of herself. It's also made it easier for me each time to let her go. When she was a little girl I spent the entire time she was gone writing her letters, checking the camp website for photos, worrying and thinking about her almost constantly. But the last couple of years I've begun to appreciate the unscheduled days. The time with my dear husband for late, long, leisurely meals or hiking with the dogs, sleeping in, staying out late, eating popcorn for lunch, and even increasing the times I can volunteer is growing on me.
I could write a million pages about how difficult it's been for me to "let go" (and I actually have!)...I know that part of parenting is to let her make her own decisions and mistakes...but knowing and doing are two completely different things. J tells me I "micromanage". So lately, when I think I need to stay up late to pack HER suitcase, or make sure she submits HER college applications, I have to literally make myself STOP. I didn't pack her suitcase for France. I didn't go to Walgreens to buy the toiletries and things we didn't already have. As difficult as it was, I didn't stay up late to look over her shoulder while she wrote her college essays. And you know what? It all got done. SHE packed, SHE shopped, SHE stayed up late and got the apps in on time. It's very liberating. Not easy, but it's a good feeling.
 |
| Halfway across the world, in a tunnel under the street in Paris, she ran into our neighbor and childhood friend! |
Sunday, October 23, 2011
Focusing on "Firsts", not "Lasts"
Last week we spent fall break in California, looking at colleges. At this point in H's college search, we're narrowing the list down, instead of adding to it. There were six colleges she was strongly interested in before the trip, and afterwards, there were only two.
One thing I learned about California...specifically the Los Angeles and San Francisco areas. They don't have enough roads for all the cars. Seriously. Driving the 45 miles from Santa Clara to San Francisco took almost three hours. The last 90 minutes were spent crawling the last 10 miles. Luckily, we finished up our marathon driving with a day and a half to relax (aka: shop) in San Francisco, and fit in a couple of nice meals.
Since we realized the last three times we were in San Francisco we ate at the same places (Boulevard, Slanted Door, Bix), we tried a couple of new places. Chaya, a French-Japanese brasserie at the Embarkadero, that we loved. Warm and intimate, with amazing sushi and a nice wine list. It was a really nice evening. The fact that we were able to stay awake throughout a leisurely dinner made it even better, since that morning we started in Los Angeles, then toured U.C. Davis, Santa Clara University, and survived the marathon drive to San Francisco, so we were exhausted.
The next night we walked around the block to Fish and Farm, which although it didn't have the ambiance we felt at Chaya, had unbelievable food. Even the salted butter for the warm rolls was superb! Fish and Farm serves locally sourced Seafood, Meat and Produce, sourcing most from within a 100 mile radius.
Even though neither of these places were on the "top 100" list of San Francisco restaurants, they would have topped most restaurants in Nashville. The Nashville restaurant scene is getting better, don't get me wrong, but I think there are only a small handful here that serve consistently good, unique, and local or organic food.
But back to the college search process. It's all very exciting, looking at great schools, in great cities, with great academics...but it's a nerve-wracking process for all of us. With the common app, it's a little bit easier to apply to multiple schools, but when the pool of possible colleges and universities gets so big, it gets overwhelming. H really wants a school with smaller class sizes. She loves being able to get to know her teachers, and doesn't relish the thought of being in a class with 150-400 students. But on the other hand, the small schools often don't have the breadth of opportunities, and since she changes her mind about what she wants to study about once a month, she would like to have multiple choices, in case her first choice doesn't end up being her passion.
I've been impressed with how thoroughly she has researched her possibilites, and her enthusiasm for exploring all aspects of the decision. She has narrowed her list from 14-15 to 7 schools. From Washington, DC to California, she has pretty much covered the United States with choices. Anything but in the south, or close to home, which I'm O.K. with. I don't know if it's because she's an only child, or because she has traveled extensively, and lived in the same city her whole life, but she is ready to fly. When the applications finally get sent, and the acceptance/rejection letters arrive, it will definitely get interesting. Right now, even though I am trying not to be a helicopter mom and let her drive through the application process, I know I will be relieved when the last "submit" button is pushed.
But I am trying to relish these days. Everything is the "last time". Her last "first day of school", her last Friday night football game, her last ACT test, her last homecoming, etc. She's decided to do senior spring break with her friends this year, so for the first time, we'll do spring break separately. That means we had our last "family spring break" last year without even knowing it! When J and I hiked Little Green Mountain in North Carolina this morning, we realized the next time we hike and play the alphabet game (a tradition we had with H for years) will probably be with our grandchildren. But instead of focusing on "last", I'm trying to focus on "firsts". The first time we let her stay home overnight alone, the first time she makes her own meals, the first time she moves away, the first time she comes home for the holidays. We will have many "firsts" ahead. The first time she brings a boy home will be exciting (hopefully!), the first time we drive away and leave her in her dorm room will be...I don't know? Sad? Exciting? Both?
Last night we met a few new couples whose children are out of college: working, volunteering, or attending graduate school. Listening to the pride they had in what their children are doing made me realize that we are not going to be finished parenting our daughter when she goes to college. Her choices and her possibilites are endless, and it will be so much fun to experience all her "firsts", even if from afar. There is no way to explain how fast the years feel like they've gone, and I'm sure one day when she has her own family she'll understand why I am so melancholy these days, but I feel so blessed and fortunate to be experiencing it all.
One thing I learned about California...specifically the Los Angeles and San Francisco areas. They don't have enough roads for all the cars. Seriously. Driving the 45 miles from Santa Clara to San Francisco took almost three hours. The last 90 minutes were spent crawling the last 10 miles. Luckily, we finished up our marathon driving with a day and a half to relax (aka: shop) in San Francisco, and fit in a couple of nice meals.
Since we realized the last three times we were in San Francisco we ate at the same places (Boulevard, Slanted Door, Bix), we tried a couple of new places. Chaya, a French-Japanese brasserie at the Embarkadero, that we loved. Warm and intimate, with amazing sushi and a nice wine list. It was a really nice evening. The fact that we were able to stay awake throughout a leisurely dinner made it even better, since that morning we started in Los Angeles, then toured U.C. Davis, Santa Clara University, and survived the marathon drive to San Francisco, so we were exhausted.
 |
| Crunchy Tuna at Chaya... bad photo, incredible dish! |
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| Pan Seared halibut with heirloom tomatoes at Fish and Farm |
But back to the college search process. It's all very exciting, looking at great schools, in great cities, with great academics...but it's a nerve-wracking process for all of us. With the common app, it's a little bit easier to apply to multiple schools, but when the pool of possible colleges and universities gets so big, it gets overwhelming. H really wants a school with smaller class sizes. She loves being able to get to know her teachers, and doesn't relish the thought of being in a class with 150-400 students. But on the other hand, the small schools often don't have the breadth of opportunities, and since she changes her mind about what she wants to study about once a month, she would like to have multiple choices, in case her first choice doesn't end up being her passion.
I've been impressed with how thoroughly she has researched her possibilites, and her enthusiasm for exploring all aspects of the decision. She has narrowed her list from 14-15 to 7 schools. From Washington, DC to California, she has pretty much covered the United States with choices. Anything but in the south, or close to home, which I'm O.K. with. I don't know if it's because she's an only child, or because she has traveled extensively, and lived in the same city her whole life, but she is ready to fly. When the applications finally get sent, and the acceptance/rejection letters arrive, it will definitely get interesting. Right now, even though I am trying not to be a helicopter mom and let her drive through the application process, I know I will be relieved when the last "submit" button is pushed.
But I am trying to relish these days. Everything is the "last time". Her last "first day of school", her last Friday night football game, her last ACT test, her last homecoming, etc. She's decided to do senior spring break with her friends this year, so for the first time, we'll do spring break separately. That means we had our last "family spring break" last year without even knowing it! When J and I hiked Little Green Mountain in North Carolina this morning, we realized the next time we hike and play the alphabet game (a tradition we had with H for years) will probably be with our grandchildren. But instead of focusing on "last", I'm trying to focus on "firsts". The first time we let her stay home overnight alone, the first time she makes her own meals, the first time she moves away, the first time she comes home for the holidays. We will have many "firsts" ahead. The first time she brings a boy home will be exciting (hopefully!), the first time we drive away and leave her in her dorm room will be...I don't know? Sad? Exciting? Both?
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| Preschool graduation |
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| senior photo |
Saturday, October 08, 2011
Exercising after Ablation...YES!
I am 12 days past ablation, and I am absolutely amazed at the difference! Not only do I sleep like a baby since the PVCs have disappeared, but from the minute I began to exercise again I am back up to the intensity I was doing before this all started, almost three years ago. The only disappointment is that since I couldn't run, but wanted a similar calorie burn, I was walking on a treadmill for 90 minutes at 15% incline. Probably the dumbest thing I could have done, because I have done something to my hip. Doing high impact things like running really hurts my hip, so I can't run right now, but at least it's not because I can't breathe! So now I'm stretching like crazy, and still doing the elliptical and stair machine, and today J and I biked the mountains here. It's a relatively short ride...about 10 miles, but the first hill is constant uphill for 3.5 miles (about 1200 feet rise in elevation), then we go off road on a gravel cut through for another couple of miles that seems like 20, and another huge steep hill that seems to go forever. But it's a beautiful ride and with the leaves changing the views just blow my mind. Last time I biked with J I had to stop about every five minutes, in tears, because I physically could not do what I had done a million times before, and ended up having to turn around. That resulted in my trekking to NYC to get tested, which uncovered the V tach, so it was all good, I guess.
Who knew that a simple catheterization could cure me? I feel so lucky that the problem was finally discovered and it was completely fixable. I probably should wait until I say "completely", because it's still early, and these things do sometimes fail, but so far, I feel like I traded in an old model for a brand spanking new heart! J read a statistic somewhere that up to 40% of medical conditions are misdiagnosed every year. In my case, I was lucky. My condition wasn't life threatening...I had no underlying heart disease. In fact, if I wasn't an athlete, I might never have even known I had it! But it was definitely changing my quality of life. When I think that three doctors (a cardiologist and two pulmonologists) missed it, and that I spent tons of money on asthma medications that didn't work ($300/month!), it's a little frustrating. But the end justifies the means. I am just so thankful that I am able to continue to run and bike. Sure, I'm still 50 years old, with 50 year old joints and the aches and pains that come with that, but my heart is not going to stop me!
Now I just have to pick a marathon for 2012!
Sunday, October 02, 2011
My Ablation Adventures...
Whew...what a crazy few months it's been. Updating this blog has had to take a backseat to family stuff, and some health stuff. Hopefully things are settling down now so I can write more regularly. I've had so many people ask about my health I thought I should just explain it all here...
Two and a half years ago, I started having trouble running. One day I would run 9 miles with no problems, and the next I would have to stop several times to catch my breath. The first time it happened I thought I just must have been having a bad day...maybe I didn't eat right, was dehydrated, was getting old, or just in a funk. But when it started to happen on a regular basis I knew something wasn't right. We had a trip planned to Colorado and I started getting a little nervous about going to high altitude if there was something health-wise going on, so I decided to get checked out. My doc sent me to a cardiologist, who ordered a stress treadmill/echo cardiogram. I passed with flying colors, except for some little thing the doctor wanted to take a closer look at. (He told J it might be a Myxoma, a common tumor inside the cavities of the heart, no big deal). Luckily, it was nothing, and he said I was fine to go skiing.
But in the following weeks my "exercise intolerance" continued, so we were referred to a pulmonologist who said I had "exercise-induced asthma". I began a $300.00/month regimen of inhaled corticosteroids as well as albuteral as needed, and was hopeful I'd get it under control. J didn't believe I actually had asthma, because after running 9 marathons and doing several triathlons over the years, I had never had so much as a cough or wheezing episode. And I wasn't wheezing then, either. It was hard to really describe the sensation, but I felt my chest tightening, so I couldn't get a good breath. It felt sometimes like my heart was beating outside my chest. The only thing I could say for certainty was that a few minutes into a run, I HAD to STOP! I mean, had to stop. I couldn't go on. But I never had to gasp for breath. My doctor told me that asthma doesn't always present itself the way you see it on TV, and he was certain that if I continued the medication it would help.
Fast forward about two years to the beginning of this past summer, and it was worse than ever. It happened every single time I exercised, no matter what kind of exercise I did. Swimming, biking, running, stairmaster, elliptical, hiking, etc., all gave me the same symptoms. As addicted to exercise as I am, I continued to exercise through it. In pain, but way slower and less intense than usual. I would just go twice as long. J finally got frustrated with the whole situation when we were on a bike ride. It was our loop around the neighborhood in North Carolina, very hilly and a great workout. Typically I would loop him on the long uphills, but that day I couldn't go five minutes without having to stop to catch my breath. I was in tears. So he called his cousin, who is the head of NYU hospital in New York. He put us in touch with Dr. Frances Adams, one of the top asthma specialists in New York. We decided to fly up for a quick visit with him.
I loved him. He was very kind and understanding, even when I cried and blubbered through the whole consultation explaining how much I missed running. He said we would figure it out and felt sure we could find a treatment that worked. Heck, there was a list a mile long of olympic athletes with exercise-induced asthma, so if they could do it, surely I could. So he ordered another battery of tests, which weren't conclusive, so he sent me for another treadmill test, even though I told him I had passed one a couple of years before.
I had to go back to New York to drop H off at the airport for her trip to China this summer, so we scheduled it for that time. J wasn't with me. I was hooked up to an echo, and started walking on the treadmill, which increased the incline and speed every 3 minutes. I could see the EKG while I was walking, and it looked like a normal heartbeat to me. I have lasted over 20 minutes in the past during this test, but about eleven minutes in, my EKG started going crazy! It looked like someone took the needle and started scribbling up and down. As soon as I got the words out, "Hey, what is THAT?", he stopped the test and had me lay down really quickly.
Long story short, I had a bout of Ventricular Tachycardia, where my heart rate went from 110 to 200 and started beating very erratically, originating in the ventricular area, not the atrium, where it normally does. The doctor explained to me that that is likely what caused my exercise intolerance.
"Wait, WHAT? I don't have asthma?" were the first words out of my mouth. The next, "Can we fix it?" The answers were yes and yes. I probably didn't have asthma, and there was a fix, a cardiac ablation, where they go into your heart with tiny catheters, induce the arrythmia so they can map it, and then cauterize the electrical pathway that causes the irregular beats.
I was referred to a cardiologist in Nashville, at Vanderbilt, who ordered a zillion more tests to rule out the presence of heart disease: MRI, calcium screening, cat scan, and a short cardiac catheterization to check out my pulmonary artery. Then he told me, "Well, I'm the plumber, and you need an electrician." So I was referred to an EP, who had me take a week of verapamil, then re-do my stress test. The medication did not do anything, and my v-tach and PVCs showed up easily during the test.
The cardiac ablation is nothing short of miraculous, at least to me. I had to spend one night in the hospital, but they didn't have to completely put me to sleep, went in through my groin so they didn't have to cut me open, went into my heart and found the short circuit and fixed it! I was groggy during the procedure so I don't remember much of it, but I do remember feeling a couple of the burns when they cauterized. I was kind of moaning and I heard them say, "She's feeling that," and I don't remember anything afterwards so they must have given me more sedative. I woke up and they were ecstatic that they were easily able to induce the V tach, and fix it, and when they tried to induce it again they couldn't! I'm sure a lot of it was the medication, but I cried like a baby when they told me that.
I had it done on Monday, came home from the hospital on Tuesday, walked a little bit Wednesday-Friday, and yesterday I test-drove my newly ablated heart by going on a 3 mile run. With NO issures at all!! I felt like I could have run longer, but I wasn't supposed to so I walked the rest of the six mile loop. It's now six days post-op and I am so optimistic that they really did fix it. I didn't realize that the almost constant palpitations I was experiencing, even at rest, weren't normal, but now that I don't have them it's an amazing feeling. I will have to wear a monitor before my follow up with the surgeon in a couple of weeks, so they will know for sure, but I'm keeping my fingers crossed.
I've spent too much time on the internet, reading about other people's experiences with ablation, which is not a great idea. There are lots of failed ablations out there, but I think the people who have good results probably aren't on the forums looking for answers. It's a very common procedure, and I am going to stay positive that I'll be back running marathons in 2012!
Two and a half years ago, I started having trouble running. One day I would run 9 miles with no problems, and the next I would have to stop several times to catch my breath. The first time it happened I thought I just must have been having a bad day...maybe I didn't eat right, was dehydrated, was getting old, or just in a funk. But when it started to happen on a regular basis I knew something wasn't right. We had a trip planned to Colorado and I started getting a little nervous about going to high altitude if there was something health-wise going on, so I decided to get checked out. My doc sent me to a cardiologist, who ordered a stress treadmill/echo cardiogram. I passed with flying colors, except for some little thing the doctor wanted to take a closer look at. (He told J it might be a Myxoma, a common tumor inside the cavities of the heart, no big deal). Luckily, it was nothing, and he said I was fine to go skiing.
But in the following weeks my "exercise intolerance" continued, so we were referred to a pulmonologist who said I had "exercise-induced asthma". I began a $300.00/month regimen of inhaled corticosteroids as well as albuteral as needed, and was hopeful I'd get it under control. J didn't believe I actually had asthma, because after running 9 marathons and doing several triathlons over the years, I had never had so much as a cough or wheezing episode. And I wasn't wheezing then, either. It was hard to really describe the sensation, but I felt my chest tightening, so I couldn't get a good breath. It felt sometimes like my heart was beating outside my chest. The only thing I could say for certainty was that a few minutes into a run, I HAD to STOP! I mean, had to stop. I couldn't go on. But I never had to gasp for breath. My doctor told me that asthma doesn't always present itself the way you see it on TV, and he was certain that if I continued the medication it would help.
Fast forward about two years to the beginning of this past summer, and it was worse than ever. It happened every single time I exercised, no matter what kind of exercise I did. Swimming, biking, running, stairmaster, elliptical, hiking, etc., all gave me the same symptoms. As addicted to exercise as I am, I continued to exercise through it. In pain, but way slower and less intense than usual. I would just go twice as long. J finally got frustrated with the whole situation when we were on a bike ride. It was our loop around the neighborhood in North Carolina, very hilly and a great workout. Typically I would loop him on the long uphills, but that day I couldn't go five minutes without having to stop to catch my breath. I was in tears. So he called his cousin, who is the head of NYU hospital in New York. He put us in touch with Dr. Frances Adams, one of the top asthma specialists in New York. We decided to fly up for a quick visit with him.
I loved him. He was very kind and understanding, even when I cried and blubbered through the whole consultation explaining how much I missed running. He said we would figure it out and felt sure we could find a treatment that worked. Heck, there was a list a mile long of olympic athletes with exercise-induced asthma, so if they could do it, surely I could. So he ordered another battery of tests, which weren't conclusive, so he sent me for another treadmill test, even though I told him I had passed one a couple of years before.
I had to go back to New York to drop H off at the airport for her trip to China this summer, so we scheduled it for that time. J wasn't with me. I was hooked up to an echo, and started walking on the treadmill, which increased the incline and speed every 3 minutes. I could see the EKG while I was walking, and it looked like a normal heartbeat to me. I have lasted over 20 minutes in the past during this test, but about eleven minutes in, my EKG started going crazy! It looked like someone took the needle and started scribbling up and down. As soon as I got the words out, "Hey, what is THAT?", he stopped the test and had me lay down really quickly.
Long story short, I had a bout of Ventricular Tachycardia, where my heart rate went from 110 to 200 and started beating very erratically, originating in the ventricular area, not the atrium, where it normally does. The doctor explained to me that that is likely what caused my exercise intolerance.
"Wait, WHAT? I don't have asthma?" were the first words out of my mouth. The next, "Can we fix it?" The answers were yes and yes. I probably didn't have asthma, and there was a fix, a cardiac ablation, where they go into your heart with tiny catheters, induce the arrythmia so they can map it, and then cauterize the electrical pathway that causes the irregular beats.
I was referred to a cardiologist in Nashville, at Vanderbilt, who ordered a zillion more tests to rule out the presence of heart disease: MRI, calcium screening, cat scan, and a short cardiac catheterization to check out my pulmonary artery. Then he told me, "Well, I'm the plumber, and you need an electrician." So I was referred to an EP, who had me take a week of verapamil, then re-do my stress test. The medication did not do anything, and my v-tach and PVCs showed up easily during the test.
The cardiac ablation is nothing short of miraculous, at least to me. I had to spend one night in the hospital, but they didn't have to completely put me to sleep, went in through my groin so they didn't have to cut me open, went into my heart and found the short circuit and fixed it! I was groggy during the procedure so I don't remember much of it, but I do remember feeling a couple of the burns when they cauterized. I was kind of moaning and I heard them say, "She's feeling that," and I don't remember anything afterwards so they must have given me more sedative. I woke up and they were ecstatic that they were easily able to induce the V tach, and fix it, and when they tried to induce it again they couldn't! I'm sure a lot of it was the medication, but I cried like a baby when they told me that.
I had it done on Monday, came home from the hospital on Tuesday, walked a little bit Wednesday-Friday, and yesterday I test-drove my newly ablated heart by going on a 3 mile run. With NO issures at all!! I felt like I could have run longer, but I wasn't supposed to so I walked the rest of the six mile loop. It's now six days post-op and I am so optimistic that they really did fix it. I didn't realize that the almost constant palpitations I was experiencing, even at rest, weren't normal, but now that I don't have them it's an amazing feeling. I will have to wear a monitor before my follow up with the surgeon in a couple of weeks, so they will know for sure, but I'm keeping my fingers crossed.
I've spent too much time on the internet, reading about other people's experiences with ablation, which is not a great idea. There are lots of failed ablations out there, but I think the people who have good results probably aren't on the forums looking for answers. It's a very common procedure, and I am going to stay positive that I'll be back running marathons in 2012!
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