10: The November Results

Going back to the cardiologist brought with it anxiety.

What will they say about the results? My perfusion is normal, and my ejection fraction is better, but will that be sufficient to say things are going well?

Yes, my results looked good on paper, but was everything going to be ok. Well, that was where I needed to let go and let God.

The main result I couldn't see before the visit was the result of my Echocardiogram. However, the perfusion test showed what the ejection fraction was, so the echo wouldn't have shown anything different. If anything, the echo would simply corroborate the perfusion results.

Despite thinking all of this, I was still quite apprehensive that day, but not as much as I had been before the loop monitor or the stress test. I prayed to Jesus to give me peace and claim things will be fine. As I've mentioned, your mind can be the devil's playground. Idle hands. There's nothing wrong with being rational, but too much of a good thing is just as bad as going off the deep in. You can rationalize yourself into a frenzy of uncertainty.

But on this day, I went for my visit alone. This was the first time I had been to my cardiologist for a visit alone since July. That showed confidence and poise despite how my mind might respond to things. When I weighed in, I was at 204 lbs, which was amazing! But my blood pressure was 140s/90s with a heart rate above 100 slightly because I was nervous. That day, the tech told me everyone's blood pressure was up when they saw the cardiologist. She and I exchanged some pleasantries that had us both laughing and then I was left in the room alone. Alone with my thoughts, just between me and God.

As I waited patiently for the nurse practitioner to come in, I thought that it was a good thing I was talking to the practitioner and not the doctor. The practitioner was the one that had cleared me for 2 years back in June before the Afib hit. Working in the same clinic, neither functions without the consent of the other, so I knew the practitioner had spoken to my cardiologist about the results of the tests. Having them come talk to me meant I was not in a bad place. I was in a very good place. I just needed to believe it for myself.

When she came in, we talked about how things had been the last few weeks. Of course, things had gone well, and I was able to tell her that I was doing something to help with my anxiety as well. All of these were good things from her perspective. She mentioned some of the very things I had thought about. Just like when another colleague I spoke with suggested that I know too much as a nurse, so did she. Nurses are trained to think of all the possibilities to be competent practicing clinicians and provide the best care possible. That also can make us some of the worst patients imaginable. As she spoke, the practitioner had one comment where she said, "Am I going to die?" reflecting on the anxiety-producing feelings heart irregularities can produce. That struck a chord with me as I had said these same words to my mother only two months earlier. This conversation did a lot to help me feel better about where my mindset was and how much anxiety was playing a factor. 

In fact, we discussed the cool sensations I sometimes had. These were not cool sensations like my body temperature dropping because my body still felt warm during them. These cool feelings permeated through my body, sometimes even elevating my heartbeat, but within seconds to minutes, it went away. My provider had already suggested this was anxiety, and my practitioner on this day confirmed that as well. Lexapro can cause anxiety sometimes, and these sensations did not start happening until after I began the drug. So, that meant the drug was working, and like my provider, the practitioner felt I should stay the course. It was building up and helping me to cope better with things.

But another big point of the visit was showing how Afib played a factor. At that point, I had experienced no Afib episodes since July 13. The loop monitor had not recorded any Afib since it was placed on September 20. My meds were helping both my heart and blood pressure, and there did not seem to be a reason to continue the Eloquis. 

What? I thought. I don't have to keep taking the blood thinner? That's magnificent!

Despite the joy I was currently being filled with, I was also apprehensive about not taking the blood thinner. I had read too much on the internet over the past few months and was concerned about the possibility of a blood clot. But that was my own fear attempting to take over. The fear of being deceived but the greatest of deceivers. No longer having to take the blood thinner was a blessing. That meant my body was doing well, and now I wouldn't have to return for 6 months to see how things were going. Simply keep letting the monitor watch over things and report anything unusual happening if it should.

When I left the cardiologist's office, I felt happy but cautious. I would still need to make sure my heart is okay, but this was a step in the right direction towards completely being healed. Covid had spawned this issue, but it had been short-lived. I now was taking every precaution to help myself move forward and things were getting better. My mindset had changed, and I was growing closer to the Lord than I ever had been before. These blessings were more than something to simply count. These blessings were to be cherished. I was thankful in the season of Thanksgiving that was approaching. 

Tune in for the next segment, 10: Thankful.