It’s no lie: I’ve got AFib
Here’s a tale of the heart (monkey’s paw version)
One common improv bit is when people from the audience yell things, then the performers combine the suggestions and do a skit. Take these four:
My heart’s aflutter (great! Perfect for Valentine’s Day!)
Pulsing through my groin (oooooh!).
An Apple Watch (OK … a little kinky, maybe).
Kareem Abdul-Jabbar (ummm …).
Yes, and … What all this means is I have atrial fibrillation, an irregular heartbeat that increases your risk of stroke and is generally a pain in the ass. Diet and exercise help fight it, but sometimes even well-conditioned people like Abdul-Jabbar get it. That’s why he’s the spokesman for No Time To Wait, describing the symptoms and risks.
Over 10 million Americans have AFib, and I’m guessing more than 300 million of us have denial, looking the other way instead of facing up to our flaws and foibles: at work, in relationships, in health (physical and mental).
As we get older, our aches and pains multiply like rabbits, and it’s easy to think that feeling tired is just part of the aging process. I would imagine a former basketball star like Abdul-Jabbar, now 77, probably heard things like “no pain, no gain” a million times, so he was used to fighting back when his body told him “no.”
Even for armchair athletes, it’s difficult to tell the difference between being tired and being injured. His heart, like mine, was injured.
The good news: On the grand scale of heart procedures, AFib treatment is — in the words of halftime entertainer and Drake disser Kendrick Lamar — “probably A Minor.”
Well, OK, you have to look past that ol’ pulsing through your groin thing, but an ablation is almost always an outpatient procedure. And a jolt through your groin still beats having your chest ripped open (Happy Valentine’s Day!).
The crucial elements are catching it in time and not being in denial — two areas where I had a technological advantage over Abdul-Jabbar.
Decrepit? Not on my watch
I remember standing in my Aunt Barbara’s kitchen eons ago, and how she dismissed the idea of ever owning a microwave oven. Don’t need it. Don’t want it. Several years later we were in that same kitchen, complete with a microwave — and the unspoken acknowledgment of an eternal truth:
Two months after I wrote that, my heart woke up one morning and decided that instead of doing its usual 60 or so beats a minute, it would try for 140. Not constantly, but enough to scare the crap out of its owner.
Although there were no heart attack symptoms like shortness of breath, chest pain or light-headedness, it was still weird enough that I called my cardiologist the next day. When I saw him a couple of days later, all was relatively normal, including my EKG. We tried a heart monitor for two weeks. Still normal.
The scare did lead me to upgrade my Apple Watch, getting one that could detect AFib and do an EKG. The following summer, I started wearing it to bed as an extra precaution.
And, of course, nothing happened.
Things changed just after Thanksgiving. “Your heart has shown signs of an irregular rhythm suggestive of atrial fibrillation,” a message from my watch said. “If you have not been diagnosed with AFib by a physician, you should discuss this with your doctor.”
I did a few EKGs on the watch over several days that showed signs of AFib. Hello, cardiologist.
The doctor’s EKG did show an atrial flutter — not as serious as AFib, but still needing treatment. He prescribed stronger meds to slow my heartbeat and a more heavy duty blood thinner, hoping they would heal my not-quite-achy, breaky heart.
He eventually sent me to a high priestess of groin zappery, known officially as a cardiologist who specializes in electrophysiology. My ablation is set for late March.
Yes, and … Here are four things I’ve learned from this whole adventure that might help you or a loved one:
Kareem Abdul-Jabbar is a brilliant man who could have ruined his life with a dumb mistake. Listen to your body. And, for that matter, your technology.
Once they upgraded my meds, neither doctor was concerned if my pulse soared past 150 while exercising, as long as I felt OK otherwise. As my watch tracked my pulse, I often saw it go from 95 one minute to 140 the next.
With my permission, the electrophysiology specialist looked at those Apple Watch EKGs and trusted them enough to confirm that I had AFib, not just a flutter.
My heart is like my blog: It doesn’t right itself.
Murphy Slaw
Something old: Since we seem to be particularly morbid today, let’s throw in this one, too.
Something new: If you’re like me, this Nike Super Bowl ad will remind you of a great scene from “Barbie.” In any case, Just. Watch. It.
Something borrowed: Threads is liable to get lost in the social media morass, but it might be worth discovering, especially if you’re lonely or an introvert. Some messages are from those mourning a loved one while others are celebrating milestones, from finding a job to falling in love to staying sober.
Something blue: Some lessons need a different approach.
My husband has a-fib too, Dave. The odd thing is he never noticed it. The only way we found out is that he went to have a colonoscopy and his heartbeat was really high and irregular. He's had a couple of the procedures where they have had to shock his heart to get it back into regular rhythm. He didn't notice the heartbeat as much as he noticed shortness of breath getting worse, even just walking from the house to the garage. We knew it was time for another jolt when that happened. My thoughts for you AND Cathy, who I know will be patiently waiting in the waiting room. Been there, done that A LOT.