Monday, December 05, 2011

tomorrow...

Tomorrow I get to strap on some electrodes and hopefully get a little closer to figuring out what in the ever-loving-heck is happening with my heart. Physiologically speaking of course. It seems I am having some funky heart rhythms of late.

Interesting enough - my spiritual heart has also recently been torn up. Is it possible that all this cardiac trouble is rooted in love lost? I am the first to admit that your mind is mighty. Mighty enough to cause physical symptoms, and mighty enough help with healing.

The dysrhythmia started before I even knew my girlfriend was planning on leaving town, leaving me. Did my intuition pick up on her secret plans days before she told me? Because I would put money on the timing. I think she moment she gave up on us is the moment everything went to shit with my myocardium.

My doctor says things like "premature ventricular contractions" and "dysrhythmia" and "ectopic beats"...he says give up caffeine and get back on the treadmill. He throws meds at me and I dutifully give them a try. And it is getting incrementally better. Teeny, tiny little increments. But hey, I have been feeling so crappy I will take even teeny, tiny little bits of better.

The other day in the hospital I had a combative, confused, elderly woman as a patient. She punched me, bit me, and fought with every single staff member. I was tasked with keeping her in bed and trying my best to keep her safe. You'd be surprised how strong a demented 80-year old can be. Just a few hours into her care I was already exhausted. She couldn't communicate her needs at all, prior strokes had jumbled her brain. She spoke in angry, nonsensical phrases...words thrown together in ways only she understood.

I kept trying to reassure her. I spoke softly. Then was quiet. I even tried singing old songs she might remember from her childhood...nothing calmed her down. Then out of my mouth I started calling her "nanna". I have no idea why, it just seemed like the thing to do. She made eye contact with me for the first time all day and responded by calling me "grandpa". She became a different person from that moment on - calm, at peace, and a pleasure to be around. The nurses and support staff were shocked by the transition and I was very very very very happy we could remove the restraints.

Her daughter arrived from out-of-town much later that evening and when I retold the story she explained that all the grandchildren had always called her Nanna, and the patient's husband had been Grandpa. The daughter was overjoyed that I had made a connection with her mom...and didn't seem creeped out even though her mom continued to talk to me as if I was her long-dead husband ;)

So was I intuitive enough to find the one word that could pull my patient out of her panic? Or was "nanna" just a lucky guess? I don't know...but either way the result was the same. My patient was finally able to rest.

So maybe I am that sensitive. Because my suspicion about the cardiac monitor is that the physician will discover that I have lost the love of my life. And just as a first kiss will give your chest that wonderful flutter of hope - a broken heart can cause it to beat irregularly, without rhythm, and without purpose. If you are lucky enough to be as sensitive as me.

Which honestly I don't recommend.

On the plus side, if you tune in tomorrow I might just include a picture of my sexy self all wired up and transmitting live ;)