Good Medicine Part 2

Continued from yesterday.

It started out with a phone call from my Mom.

"I don't feel good," says my Mom. "My heart's racing, like before."

My Mom has had a few episodes like this, two I believe, not counting yesterday. I went with her to see her cardiologist about a month ago. Dr. Heart diagnosed her as having an electrical, or rhythmic problem with her heart, as opposed to what he calls a plumbing issue, typically known as blockages.

Basically, there's an electrical circuit in my Mom's heart that goes haywire. Instead of going in a straight line, the circuit goes around and around in a circle causing the heart to beat rapidly. The symptoms she's been experiencing include shortness of breath, strong pressure on the throat, headaches, and chest pressure.

"Of course, there's a chance I'm wrong," admits Dr. Heart.

Yeah, we get it. There are no guarantees in life, Doc.

Dr. Heart prescribed the smallest dosage of a medicine to keep her heart from beating out of control. When I say beating out of control, I mean beating over 160 beats per minute. The normal heart rate is between 60-80 beats per minute, at rest. Dr. Heart also warned her to avoid caffeine because it can trigger these types of episodes.

"What about dehydration?" I ask Dr Heart. "She doesn't drink enough water."

"Yes, dehydration can exacerbate electrical matters of the heart," answers Dr. Heart.

In light of that doctor visit a month ago, when I got the call from my Mom yesterday, I wasn't sure what to think.

"What do you want to do?" I ask my Mom.

"I need to finish up with my client," answers my Mom, not sounding great. "I called Dr. Heart he's supposed to call me back. I gotta go (click)."

And now I wasn't sure what to do? I was supposed to get a massage at two it was already eleven. Hmmmmm.

I text this info to my Mom.

"Should I cancel my appointment," I text.

"No, I can manage," texts my Mom.

Right.

I cancel my massage, "Dude, my Mom's having some heart issues, I think I need to cancel."

"Yeah, you do," says Mr. CMT. "You've got to take care of the head and the heart, my friend."

Next I call my Mom back, "Can your client drop you off at ER and I'll meet you there?"

"Yeah," says my Mom (click).

If I hadn't spent my whole life being hung up on, by my Mom, this probably would have been upsetting. But I have, so it wasn't. I've learned to accept her for who she is, but I really was worried about her.

I take a quick shower, and as I'm walking out the door my Mom's friend calls, "I just dropped your Mom off at ER."

"Thanks, I'm on my way," I say.

I got to the ER after my Mom, expecting to find her in the waiting room. But she had already been admitted. Apparently the ER takes matters of the heart, to heart.

I quickly got an escort back to ER. Not that I needed one. I know that place like the back of my hand. Did I mention this was my second trip to the ER in 22 days, and my fourth trip since December? Did I?

I walk in on my Mom telling Dr. ER, "I don't have time for this. I have stuff to do! Will I be able to do my docent duties at Point Lobos tomorrow??????"

And on and on she went, while the Universe and Dr. ER along with the nurses chuckled. Because when the Universe says, "STOP!" you have no choice but to listen.

As opposed to when the Universe says, "SLOW DOWN," or "Heed my warnings or else," or flashes you a yellow light. One can still move about, albeit with varying degrees of pain and discomfort.

"We're just about to do some stuff, here, but have a seat," says Dr. ER, motioning me to chair.

Then Dr. ER turns back to my Mom and says, "since the breathing didn't work, we're going to have to give you this medicine intravenously. It's going to make you feel really bad for a second or two. I mean terrible. As in awful. But only for a few seconds. It's really short, but terrible."

Is he serious?

Then all the nurses proceeded to repeat what Dr. ER had just said.

Are they serious?

They were.

Now, I was scared.

Apparently, Dr. ER could tell and reassuringly says, "this is safe, and it works really fast."

My Mom incorrectly thought she needlessly came to the ER, but this medicine can only be administered at a hospital where, if there are complications, they're equipped to deal with them.

Her heart was beating over 160 beats per minute. And this had been going on for nearly two hours. Oh Father Neptune.

(Side note: Though I missed the "breathing thing, basically Dr. ER instructed my mom to take a deep breath in, hold it and then bare down, like you're trying to poop. But don't." Dr. Heart later explained to us the Breathing Faux-Pooping Technique stimulates the parasympathetic nervous system inducing the relaxation response, which slows down the heart and respiratory rates.)

Back to the scary good medicine.

"Okay, are you ready?" asks Dr. ER. "Here it comes......."

"Oh my, it's really bad," agrees my Mom.

And then we all watched her heart rate go down to normal in less than a minute. Woah! Amazing Grace!

"Do you feel better?" asks Dr. ER.

"Yeah, but that felt like a bomb went off inside of me," answers my Mom. "It was as if someone was gripping me by the throat and lifting me up! Whew!"

It was smooth sailing from there, with a follow-up EKG, which looked great according to Dr. Heart, "You're heart is strong. And that's a good thing. There's no damage."

And, of course, some blood work.

"Can you tell if she's dehydrated from any of the tests?" I ask Dr. ER.

"Yeah, we can get a good idea," says Dr. ER.

Later on Dr. ER babbled about something or other being elevated in my my Mom's blood, "indicating slight dehydration."

Aha! I knew it! My Mom doesn't drink enough water.

Dr. Heart felt the episode, Friday, confirmed his previous diagnosis that my Mom's heart issue is a rhythmic, electrical malfunction, and not a plumbing problem.

"It's exactly what I thought!" exclaims Dr. Heart. "This proves it."

I agree with Dr. Heart. But mainly I'm just glad my Mom's okay. For now, Dr. Heart is going to increase the dosage of the medication he originally put her on, since she "broke through the lower dose."

This will REQUIRE careful daily monitoring of her blood pressure which shouldn't go below 100/whatever, Dr. Heart's words not mine. And her heart rate which shouldn't go below 50 beats per minute.

And she'll be drinking plenty of water.

"When was the last time you drank water?" I ask.

"I don't know?" answers my Mom.

Wrong answer. Oh Father Neptune. But somehow I know we'll get through this. We always do.