Yesterday came and went. Fairly uneventful, for all the anticipation I felt towards it.
Everything was fine, but it didn't really go as planned... we weren't able to do exactly what he was wanting to do. Prior to the procedure, it took seven seconds for my defibrillator to charge up to shock me. With the type of rhythm my heart does during an episode, seven seconds will have me completely passed out. He wanted to program the defibrillator so that it was using a lesser voltage to shock me, thus enabling it to fire more quickly.
He tried. He lowered it to the number he was hoping to get it to, sent my heart into ventricular fibrillation, and then waited for the defibrillator to shock it. It did... the first time. He then re-tested it, and the defibrillator failed to correct my heart. Dang. He bumped it up higher (but lower than it was) and was successful- but it barely is any faster. What used to take 7 seconds now takes 5.5, and he seemed to be under the impression (or I thought I gathered in my awaking-from-anesthesia-ness) that that amount of time would still cause me to pass out.
Oh well.
I'm just grateful that I have it- and even if I
do pass out, I'm still alive, right?
The most unfortunate part of yesterday was something I knew was coming but was hoping wasn't.
The doctor says that I should be doing no driving in this post-partum period. As in- NO DRIVING.
until Nora is 9 months old.
Which is 7 months from today, in case you were wondering.
SEVEN MONTHS!
That would be fine and well if.. you know... I had a horse and buggy. Or a personal chauffeur.
But alas... homeward bound I shall remain, I guess.
(Just a little reminder: I have three kids under age 4. A really busy husband. And a photography business. Who needs to leave the house. Ever. Right?!?!)
Okay, I'm being dramatic.
I know, it's not the end of the world.
Seriously now though... it really does bum me out.
.But- it'll be good, I suppose. I have dreams of finishing up home projects, planning and planting a serious garden, having flower beds, etc. It'll make way for more consistent routines, force me to get creative with the kids, eliminate unnecessary trips out, leave me no choice but to make meal plans and grocery lists. These things will be good, very good, for our family. We'll survive. :)
Also, my doctor had me start taking medicine a couple of weeks back. I thought that it would just be for this nine month postpartum period also, but he said after my procedure that he thought I'd need to be on it indefinitely. Not a huge deal, though. If Caters can take medicine (and not complain!) three times a day, surely I can handle it, too. :)
Okay. Enough heart talk. Happy Wednesday night to you!
