My family heritage is that of mostly German influence. Physically, I am a statuesque woman, who lately has put on some weight in the middle. However, my whole life I have always been a very strong individual, lifting more than a lot of males I knew. Growing up on a farm sets a standard of labor and hard work basically for the rest of your life. That life gave me purpose and values that now that I say it, gives my a topic for another article. But back to my present subject.
Over the years, I have been a very healthy person, rarely catching cold or anything else. My family doctor would tell my that I was healthy as a horse. Not an image I was fond of, but since I love horses, I let is go as a compliment. I always had mostly physically challenging jobs, standing and lifting, carrying and pushing. Working myself above and beyond because I knew what needed to be done and I got it done. But three years ago it caught up with me. The doctor referred to it as "walking heart failure". I never realized what was happening when it happened.
It was Christmas 2004 and I was walking back from my boyfriend's mom's house which is just two houses over from us. My heart started racing and I got hot and dizzy and my eyesight sort of went dark, then it went away. This happened three times on that short trip, each incident only lasting 5 to 10 seconds each. So when I got in our house, I sat down and rested but remained tired. Which wasn't anything new, I was always tired. My position as a Kitchen Manager at a local restaurant was very demanding. I was the one who my boss rode constantly even though I tried to make everything perfect. I was the one who stayed late because the Front Manager was late again, for whatever reason. I was the one who worked the shift if one of my employees called out sick. I was working almost 70 hours every week and my "Boss" still wasn't happy or helping me. But that dedication to my job took its toll on me.
Again at Christmas time, but in 2006, I ended up in the hospital 2 days before Christmas Eve. I was having Congestive Heart Failure. I had been sick with a chest cold for a week, and it wasn't getting any better. I could only get a few hours sleep at a time before the coughing would rack my body. On the night in question, I was able to lay down for some sleep and felt that maybe I would be able to sleep at least half way thought the night. But that was not to be. I woke up with a little tickle in my throat so I got some lovely hot tea, with honey and lemon. It didn't help. The cough got worse and worse and I started spitting up a little bloody mucus each time. After coughing for an hour, I woke up my boyfriend and told him it was time to go to the hospital. His mother drove us and I got in the back seat of her Jeep. I couldn't sit in the seat, I had to be on my knees and hang over the back because if I sat down, I couldn't breathe and felt like I was suffocating. This was not a very dignified way to make my way there, but at least it was night time and no one really saw me.
After much attention from the medical staff in our local emergency room, I stabilized and was able to breathe again. I even got some sleep. The cardiologist I had seen once before visited me the next morning before letting me leave the hospital. He prescribed some medication and scheduled me with an appointment in his office in a week, and I went home. Stopping by the pharmacy on the way home was a shock though. The prescription medicine costs were off the charts!! I could feed my boyfriend and I for a month with the money I spent on what the two prescriptions cost. I "felt" better and you can't see your heart, and I didn't have any more problems so I didn't keep taking the medicine and I didn't go see the doctor the following week. No money to spend on that anyway. I had just been downsized from the company I was working for and unemployment didn't pay that well.
So this brings up to January 2008. Again, I had a cold, or I guess what I thought was a cold. I was fatigued and coughing, with a slight fever. Again, sleeping was at a premium. I couldn't walk from one room of my home to the next without having to sit down and catch my breath. It hit me that this was the same as a year ago, give or take two weeks. My boyfriend was at his mother's and I called him and told him I needed to go to the hospital, because it was happening again. So off we go. In the ER, I was sent for an X-ray and then a CT scan. Neither of them could show anything. My cardiologist came the next morning and ordered what is referred to as a MUGA scan. This test finally confirmed what was really wrong with my heart. My heart only pumps half the necessary blood through the heart with each beat than what is needed. This explained the extreme fatigue and shortness of breath I had been suffering while working as a Catering Chef in the months previous to this. This is also complicated by a Left Bundle Branch Blockage. A left bundle branch block indicates that one of the electrical pathways in my heart is not functioning normally. By definition, it does not mean that there is a blockage in one of my coronary vessels.
So, at age 43 my heart is mad at me. It wants me to start taking better care of myself. I won't deny being scared to death when all these words came flying at me. My cardiologist's prognosis is not the most uplifting at this time. His clinical notes included terms like "pacemaker", "defibrillator" and "could die suddenly at any moment". These are not terms that have settled very well with me. I am taking my prescription medication as directed now. Since the first incident, the medication has gone generic and I can now get them for $4 each at a certain pharmacy. Why couldn't they have that price a year ago?? Go figure. I am restricted from working and my doctor instructed me to apply for disability. That has been a nightmare. But like everyone else I need to make a living and am seeking employment form home to supplement what my boyfriend is bring in.
It's been a very frustrating 3 months, not being able to do the physical activity I took so much for granted. I play with my dog in the yard for aerobic style exercise. I want to start walking short distances and do some mild exercises at the house. I admit I am still scared of having my heart fail on me. I don't want to end up having to be confined to a bed or wheelchair. I'm not necessarily afraid to die, I'm just not ready to yet.
