Yesterday I had to go to the cardiologist again. For the second time, I had a nuclear stress test performed. For the fourth time, a doctor attached a Holter monitor.
I woke up at 6:30 in the morning so I could begrudgingly chomp on a couple of granola bars before taking my morning medications. Once I did that, all food and drink were prohibited until the physician permitted me to eat. This means that my precious morning coffee and all other caffeine were not allowed. Being a hater of mornings, I went back to bed afterward. My faithful alarm rang at 8:30, and I was, again begrudgingly, awake for the day. Thankfully, the man guy was home "studying," so I took a long shower to wake up. I left the house as the children ate their warm cinnamon oatmeal at the table and talked about what goals they wanted to accomplish for the day. My oldest, 12, ran to me as I opened the car door.
"Bye, mom. Love you. Good luck." She gave me a quick hug in her awkward, teenager-like manner.
"Yeah, yeah. Help out with the littles. I should be back around 2, maybe." I gave her a brief peck on the forehead, grateful that she still puts up with my mothering ways.
Having heart issues that the doctors cannot figure out is not fun. Some doctors have told me: "This is just the way it is for the rest of your life." "I am only prescribing you these medications to make you feel better. I don't think you need them at all." "Sometimes there isn't an answer. Your body just decided to do this." "I wouldn't count on finding a cause or even a solution." "I've seen worse, so you'll be fine." While those might be good enough reasons for some people to "just deal with it," it has not been "good enough" for me.
In July 2021, I went to the emergency room with reoccurring heart palpitations, chest pains, dizziness, and weakness on my left side. After sticking a footlong cotton swab through my nose to my brain, it was quickly determined through testing and ultrasounds that I was NOT having a heart attack. YAY me! Sound the trumpets! So.... what were the heart attack-like episodes that were progressively getting more frequent and intense?
Additional testing and ultrasounds ruled out stroke and blood clots - a possibility due to spraining my ankle a few months previously. Vials and vials of blood were drawn. Ultrasounds, EKGs, Echoes, and X-rays were all performed within a few short hours. Oh, and through it all, I was alone (thank you, COVID). With heart attack-like episodes. In a hospital. In a foreign country. Whose language I did not speak at a professional level. Yeah... The good news is that the doctors were fluent in English, but the nurses - not so much.
On day 2, the doctor confirmed premature ventricular contractions occurring at a rate of 20% along with swelling and inflammation on the left side of my heart. Not clear on his explanation of this diagnosis, I turned to our lovely internet friend, Google. I learned that premature ventricular contractions, or PVCs, are when extra heartbeats are in one of the lower chambers of the heart that interfere with the heart's natural rhythm. Most people who have PVCs don't know it. It feels like a skipped beat or a flutter in the chest - the kind of thing we pass off as too much caffeine or nerves. Typically, when PVCs occur at a rate of 20% or higher, it is due to heart disease or scarring in the heart. Typical recreational stimulants such as drugs, alcohol, and caffeine can also be culprits. These weren't the cause for me. Additional testing commenced. Heart disease was ruled out. Scarring was ruled out - though they did find a small hole in my heart between the top two chambers. I saw the ultrasound and pressure testing with my own two eyes. To this day there is absolutely nothing in any of my medical records about that.
Anyways, I did a gambit of genetic tests and was asked odd questions like "Are you a bodybuilder?" and "Do you drink a lot of protein shakes?" At the end of day 3, the doctor was completely baffled as to why I suddenly had these PVCs and why they were increasing. Medications to control the arrhythmia and blood pressure were administered and the waiting game started again.
The medications were able to slow down the PVCs and I was released on day 4 with instructions to follow up in two days. This led to a whole other gambit of tests including Holter monitors, exercise tests, more blood tests, EKGs, and Echoes. I was referred to Rheumatology for possible autoimmune diseases, Fitness Physician for weight loss, and Gynecology for possible perimenopause. Funny thing - I have never heard back from that last one.
Answers never came and most doctors threw their hands up and told me that I may never have an answer. And that is the life I am living in now. I have been my own advocate by writing down what I observe and when episodes happen. I watch my caffeine intake and monitor my food because I noticed a correlation. I read research papers and recently published studies on 40somethings with PVCs. If I take my medications faithfully, 95% of the time, I am PVC-free.
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