Tomorrow will be 9 years since my first heart procedure. As the years go by, I remember less and less of the details surrounding that time in my life. Each year, on October 24th, we talk about how it all went down, what might have been and how blessed we are now.
I was working at Converge, an eletronics brokerage and I was traveling to Amsterdam and Singapore for business. I called Adam a few times from Amsterdam to tell him that I just knew I was going to die. I hadn't slept in five nights, my heart was racing out of control, I was constantly dizzy and I no matter what I did, I couldn't "rest". He was leaving for England with his family and would not be reachable for the remainder of my trip. I was SO scared. I didn't think I'd ever make it back alive. I was picturing how my body would have to be flown back to the states in the bottom of some commercial airline. I stayed awake all night long, I read everything I could get my hands on in the hotel, I ironed every single article of clothing in my suitcase (somehow it provided a distraction) and I phoned my friend Tina back in the states since they were 12 hours behind, we could chat during my "middle of the night" and her "middle of the day". She talked me through some severe anxiety.... I'll never forget that. She had NO idea then how much she was doing for me. Prior to this trip, I was diagnosed with "Graves Disease", an autoimmune disease that was said to be causing my thyroid to malfunction. I was also being "treated" for anxiety with a drug called "Celexa". As many times as I visited my primary doctor to complain of heart racing, sweating, insomnia, times when my heart felt like it was skipping, he NEVER EVER ONCE did an EKG..... so hear I am, on the other side of the world, thinking it must all be in my head.
The day finally arrived for me to make my 24 hour journey home.... I sat in first class (still not sure how that one happened) with my eyes looking a little like a deer in headlights. My hands were sweating but I still managed a tight grip on the armrests and I wondered how long it would be until someone could offer me a baileys on the rocks to calm my nerves? Since I'm not even remotely shy, I decided to tell the tall-foreign-not-so-friendly looking dude sitting next to me that I "was scared to fly"..... this man might have saved my life. He asked me a bunch of questions about my "fear of flying" and ended up getting me to tell him all about my symptoms. Turned out he was a chinese doctor who proceeded to perform accupressure on my hands, wrists and arms for quite some time after. I ended up falling asleep and woke up with only a few hours left on the flight. Who knows? Maybe he stabbed me with a sedative know but it was the best sleep I've ever had in my entire life.
Shortly after my return home, I continued having these crazy symptoms... one of the most vivid memories I still have was just as I was about to fall asleep each night, I'd startle, almost like I had stopped breathing and I needed to catch my breath. This happened for weeks.....
My routine thyroid appointment in Boston was that day..... my friend Erin and I were trekking into Mass General Hospital together to have my quick appointment and then hit one of our faves - PF Changs for dinner. I was sitting with one of the best endocrinologists in the country, discussing how he was going to remove my thyroid, blah blah blah.... hurry up dude, lettuce wraps and my fat glass of red wine await me!!! He was examining me like he always did at the end of the appointment and held the stethoscope to my heart.... paused.... cleaned the stethoscope, listened again. And again. And again. He said (and I'll never forget) "WHAT is going on with your heart??" I didn't know but the look of fear in his eyes and the serious manner in which he went over to his desk, scribbled on a piece of paper and said to me "GO DOWN TO THE LAB NOW.... bring the results back to me immediately. Do not stop in between, do not come back without them. Wait for the sheet of paper and bring it back up to me".
Ok dude, reeeelax. I'm on my way. Had to grab Erin and tell her that we wouldn't be hitting PFC's as quickly as I thought, needed a quick "something" at the lab. They did an ekg, handed me the paper and we walked back up to Dr. Ross's office. Dr. Ross looked at the paper, put me in a wheelchair and I'm pretty sure speed-raced me down to the ER. Hmmm, I'm pretty sure this was when my heart hit a high note. Thank GOD I showered that day! She grabbed my wrist.. "pulse? 180." "180 is high, right?" I asked her.... "yeah, that's pretty high", she said without even looking at me. I was taken into the "trauma" section of the ER, not really sure of much after that, I was hooked up to a machine, they wheeled the crash cart in and several doctors were standing over me immediately asking me if I did "cocaine". Um, no? Why would you insult me like that??? I was starting to get scared... I asked the nurse "if you have to use that thing on me (the crash cart) is it going to hurt?" She said "yup, it's gonna hurt". Great..... I got a morphine injection after that and the rest is quite a blur...... I was in the hospital for 9 days, went through a series of tests that baffled the doctors. I was diagnosed with Ventricular Tachycardia and told it was also known as "sudden death syndrome". http://www.mayoclinicproceedings.com/content/84/3/289.abstract
Ok so I can strongly remember two distinct moments from that time in the hospital....(well, besides calling the nurse to say that I peed myself in the middle of the night) I remember Adam laying in my hospital bed with me, crying into my ear that I was going to be fine and he was going to be taking me home soon and that someday he promised to give me BEAUTIFUL babies..... (which he did). And I remember being prepped for surgery. I'm sure that they told me everything but I was on morphine the whole time so I can't remember any of it. I suppose that it wasn't REALLY surgery, they never cut my chest open..... it was a "catheter ablation" whereby they stuck 8 catheters into my groin and up my major arteries into my heart.... AND bonus - I got to be wide awake and watch the whole thing on a monitor while they cauterized pieces of muscle from my heart. They let Adam walk into the operating room with me, he kissed me goodbye and that was it. I think I was in that room for about 7 hours. I passed out a few times from the pain and then at one point they had to inject something into me that was going to "make me feel like I just ran a mile". Like this wasn't enough? The docs were baffled (they were looking for a focus point - the spot in the field surrounding my heart that was shooting out extra heartbeats - that's the spot they were trying to ablate). After 7 hours of not finding it, they closed me up and sent me on my way. "You'll have to come back in 3 months, after your catheter entrance wounds have healed... and we'll do it all over again". "Um, WWHHHHHHHAAAATTT?"
They sent me home with a bunch of medication (thus the various allergies I now have at this late age in life -Oh, the TOXINS!!!!!!) that were meant to sustain me for the next 3 months until "surgery/ablation #2).
I went back in in February of '03. I had done a couple of Reiki treatments in the hopes that I would be better relaxed on the table and brought in a few cd's for the nurses to play for me in the OR. It worked.... I was definitely more relaxed..... I think I was in that room for something like 13 hours and at one point, a different surgeon came in to take over. Still, they couldn't find it! They even brought in a SALESMAN who guided the surgeons through inserting a new kind of balloon into my heart to give them better vision. No really, EVERYONE.... come on in and take a look under the sheet - is nothing sacred??
They found that sucker... finally. And they found that it was resting on my coronary artery. This wasn't good news, according to Doc. He said something like.... "it's as if your electrical wires are wrapped around your water pipe"... and.... "you'll probably suffer a heart attack when we remove it...... so, Miss Pietrzykowski, do you want us to remove it?" Me - "Um, well... is it going to hurt? If I have a heart attack?" Him - "yes, it will hurt.... but don't worry...... we have all the necessary tools and equipment to cut you open if that happens". Me - "ok, then. do it". I just wanted it to be over with - no matter what it is. I couldn't lay there another second... and I certainly couldn't go home knowing that I'd have to come back AGAIN. Just do it. DOOOO ITTTTT!!!!!
They removed it. I didn't have a heart attack. It was a miracle. The rest is a long story for another day (dang this post got LONG) but that was just the most insane time of my life and I'm happy to be here, on the other side, blogging about it!
I do still worry from time to time that something "just doesn't feel right" but I've learned how to get through those moments of hypervigilance... hmmm, I think I'll have to post about hypervigilance someday... it's very interesting!!!
Until then.... I'll come up with something a little lighter to blog about! :)
Thanks for reading :) xoxo
*****DISCLAIMER!!!! I should report that Graves Disease did NOT cause the VT..... it merely triggered a congenital heart condition that I had all my life.....
I was working at Converge, an eletronics brokerage and I was traveling to Amsterdam and Singapore for business. I called Adam a few times from Amsterdam to tell him that I just knew I was going to die. I hadn't slept in five nights, my heart was racing out of control, I was constantly dizzy and I no matter what I did, I couldn't "rest". He was leaving for England with his family and would not be reachable for the remainder of my trip. I was SO scared. I didn't think I'd ever make it back alive. I was picturing how my body would have to be flown back to the states in the bottom of some commercial airline. I stayed awake all night long, I read everything I could get my hands on in the hotel, I ironed every single article of clothing in my suitcase (somehow it provided a distraction) and I phoned my friend Tina back in the states since they were 12 hours behind, we could chat during my "middle of the night" and her "middle of the day". She talked me through some severe anxiety.... I'll never forget that. She had NO idea then how much she was doing for me. Prior to this trip, I was diagnosed with "Graves Disease", an autoimmune disease that was said to be causing my thyroid to malfunction. I was also being "treated" for anxiety with a drug called "Celexa". As many times as I visited my primary doctor to complain of heart racing, sweating, insomnia, times when my heart felt like it was skipping, he NEVER EVER ONCE did an EKG..... so hear I am, on the other side of the world, thinking it must all be in my head.
The day finally arrived for me to make my 24 hour journey home.... I sat in first class (still not sure how that one happened) with my eyes looking a little like a deer in headlights. My hands were sweating but I still managed a tight grip on the armrests and I wondered how long it would be until someone could offer me a baileys on the rocks to calm my nerves? Since I'm not even remotely shy, I decided to tell the tall-foreign-not-so-friendly looking dude sitting next to me that I "was scared to fly"..... this man might have saved my life. He asked me a bunch of questions about my "fear of flying" and ended up getting me to tell him all about my symptoms. Turned out he was a chinese doctor who proceeded to perform accupressure on my hands, wrists and arms for quite some time after. I ended up falling asleep and woke up with only a few hours left on the flight. Who knows? Maybe he stabbed me with a sedative know but it was the best sleep I've ever had in my entire life.
Shortly after my return home, I continued having these crazy symptoms... one of the most vivid memories I still have was just as I was about to fall asleep each night, I'd startle, almost like I had stopped breathing and I needed to catch my breath. This happened for weeks.....
My routine thyroid appointment in Boston was that day..... my friend Erin and I were trekking into Mass General Hospital together to have my quick appointment and then hit one of our faves - PF Changs for dinner. I was sitting with one of the best endocrinologists in the country, discussing how he was going to remove my thyroid, blah blah blah.... hurry up dude, lettuce wraps and my fat glass of red wine await me!!! He was examining me like he always did at the end of the appointment and held the stethoscope to my heart.... paused.... cleaned the stethoscope, listened again. And again. And again. He said (and I'll never forget) "WHAT is going on with your heart??" I didn't know but the look of fear in his eyes and the serious manner in which he went over to his desk, scribbled on a piece of paper and said to me "GO DOWN TO THE LAB NOW.... bring the results back to me immediately. Do not stop in between, do not come back without them. Wait for the sheet of paper and bring it back up to me".
Ok dude, reeeelax. I'm on my way. Had to grab Erin and tell her that we wouldn't be hitting PFC's as quickly as I thought, needed a quick "something" at the lab. They did an ekg, handed me the paper and we walked back up to Dr. Ross's office. Dr. Ross looked at the paper, put me in a wheelchair and I'm pretty sure speed-raced me down to the ER. Hmmm, I'm pretty sure this was when my heart hit a high note. Thank GOD I showered that day! She grabbed my wrist.. "pulse? 180." "180 is high, right?" I asked her.... "yeah, that's pretty high", she said without even looking at me. I was taken into the "trauma" section of the ER, not really sure of much after that, I was hooked up to a machine, they wheeled the crash cart in and several doctors were standing over me immediately asking me if I did "cocaine". Um, no? Why would you insult me like that??? I was starting to get scared... I asked the nurse "if you have to use that thing on me (the crash cart) is it going to hurt?" She said "yup, it's gonna hurt". Great..... I got a morphine injection after that and the rest is quite a blur...... I was in the hospital for 9 days, went through a series of tests that baffled the doctors. I was diagnosed with Ventricular Tachycardia and told it was also known as "sudden death syndrome". http://www.mayoclinicproceedings.com/content/84/3/289.abstract
Ok so I can strongly remember two distinct moments from that time in the hospital....(well, besides calling the nurse to say that I peed myself in the middle of the night) I remember Adam laying in my hospital bed with me, crying into my ear that I was going to be fine and he was going to be taking me home soon and that someday he promised to give me BEAUTIFUL babies..... (which he did). And I remember being prepped for surgery. I'm sure that they told me everything but I was on morphine the whole time so I can't remember any of it. I suppose that it wasn't REALLY surgery, they never cut my chest open..... it was a "catheter ablation" whereby they stuck 8 catheters into my groin and up my major arteries into my heart.... AND bonus - I got to be wide awake and watch the whole thing on a monitor while they cauterized pieces of muscle from my heart. They let Adam walk into the operating room with me, he kissed me goodbye and that was it. I think I was in that room for about 7 hours. I passed out a few times from the pain and then at one point they had to inject something into me that was going to "make me feel like I just ran a mile". Like this wasn't enough? The docs were baffled (they were looking for a focus point - the spot in the field surrounding my heart that was shooting out extra heartbeats - that's the spot they were trying to ablate). After 7 hours of not finding it, they closed me up and sent me on my way. "You'll have to come back in 3 months, after your catheter entrance wounds have healed... and we'll do it all over again". "Um, WWHHHHHHHAAAATTT?"
They sent me home with a bunch of medication (thus the various allergies I now have at this late age in life -Oh, the TOXINS!!!!!!) that were meant to sustain me for the next 3 months until "surgery/ablation #2).
I went back in in February of '03. I had done a couple of Reiki treatments in the hopes that I would be better relaxed on the table and brought in a few cd's for the nurses to play for me in the OR. It worked.... I was definitely more relaxed..... I think I was in that room for something like 13 hours and at one point, a different surgeon came in to take over. Still, they couldn't find it! They even brought in a SALESMAN who guided the surgeons through inserting a new kind of balloon into my heart to give them better vision. No really, EVERYONE.... come on in and take a look under the sheet - is nothing sacred??
They found that sucker... finally. And they found that it was resting on my coronary artery. This wasn't good news, according to Doc. He said something like.... "it's as if your electrical wires are wrapped around your water pipe"... and.... "you'll probably suffer a heart attack when we remove it...... so, Miss Pietrzykowski, do you want us to remove it?" Me - "Um, well... is it going to hurt? If I have a heart attack?" Him - "yes, it will hurt.... but don't worry...... we have all the necessary tools and equipment to cut you open if that happens". Me - "ok, then. do it". I just wanted it to be over with - no matter what it is. I couldn't lay there another second... and I certainly couldn't go home knowing that I'd have to come back AGAIN. Just do it. DOOOO ITTTTT!!!!!
They removed it. I didn't have a heart attack. It was a miracle. The rest is a long story for another day (dang this post got LONG) but that was just the most insane time of my life and I'm happy to be here, on the other side, blogging about it!
I do still worry from time to time that something "just doesn't feel right" but I've learned how to get through those moments of hypervigilance... hmmm, I think I'll have to post about hypervigilance someday... it's very interesting!!!
Until then.... I'll come up with something a little lighter to blog about! :)
Thanks for reading :) xoxo
*****DISCLAIMER!!!! I should report that Graves Disease did NOT cause the VT..... it merely triggered a congenital heart condition that I had all my life.....
5 comments:
Wow. Unbelievable. I cannot believe you went through all of this. Just goes to show, always listen to your body and your heart. WHat an inspirational story:)
Wow! That's amazing! You are a strong little lady!
Wow... Nancy, you might have prepared us for a tear-jerker blog post. I'm so glad that story had a happy ending!!
Hi Nancy,
My mom went through Graves and was actually pregnant with me during her worst (she weighed just 100 pounds when full term with me.) The pix of her in that time look so scary and I know if they hadn't done surgery to remove her thyroid she probably wouldn't be here today. Funny thing is, I have the opposite of Graves, though I was born with a neonatal form of Graves because I was getting her meds in utero and then spent 6 weeks in Buffalo Children's hospital while they weaned me off her meds. So glad you got the treatment needed....I know ablations can be tough to fix, but thank the Lord for doctors who know how to keep probing til they find the right spot.
Hey Nancy,
There really are no words besides OMG...when I read that story. So thankful that you are ok and that your
heart is beating like a champ now. Keep writing this blog, you have the gift of gab.
Sending lots of love to FL!
Nicole
xo
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