Well, this morning I was putting on a jacket after breakfast. I then got lightheaded, then again, then BANG. My implanted defibrillator went off. Then again. Then again. After this bit of unpleasantness—it’s like being kicked by a horse—I lost consciousness. When I came to, my dad’s wife was talking to me, but her voice sounded like she had breathed helium. Things got weird.
The ambulance came, and off to the ER I went. To cut the story short: it wasn’t a heart attack. I have cardiomyopathy, and therefore I’m prone to electrophysiological anomalies. In this case it was ventricular-tachycardia, where the heart is beating so fast, it’s doing nothing. I have been asymptomatic for 26 years, so it was time.
A heart-rhythm specialist I spoke with said this is commonly—for folks like me—a once-in-a-lifetime event. We’ll see. There are multiple conversations in my near future.
So, quite a morning. As I lay there on the kitchen floor waiting for the paramedics, I was thinking today was the day. I was scared, but not about dying; all I could think about was leaving my friend Leah. I therefore left her what I thought was a farewell video message, but in my disorientation, deleted it? It’s been lost to history—which is fine. It wasn’t my best work.
The photo is of me in recovery. I went in for an angiogram, as they wished to rule out the possibility of blockage creating the anomalous rhythms. It turns out my arteries are clear as a newborn baby’s. I therefore see a lot of bacon in my future.
