Try saying that five times fast.
I mentioned in the post I wrote about the day Robbie was born, that I have a heart condition (which is why we did a c-section). Well, I actually have two heart conditions. The first I was born with, and it’s called Supra Ventricular Tachycardia. We’ll just call it SVT. It’s an arrhythmia, and it causes my heart rate to become elevated when I get scared, have too much caffeine, too much excitement, or for just no reason at all. I had a radio frequency ablation for it when I was about seven. Basically, they stick some wires in your legs and they use those wires to go up to your heart and they shock it a few times. It’s kinda cool because they control the wires like a remote controlled car. Any way, they told us it would solve the problem for now but I would more than likely have to have it done again once I was an adult. So a couple years ago when my heart started acting up again, I figured “Hey no problem! I’ll just get the surgery again and go on to live a happy, care free life!” right? Wrong. I went to a cardiologist last year while I was pregnant with Robbie just to check over things, make sure everything was OK, and see if I could handle labor. They put me on yet another heart monitor (those darn sticky pads always eat my skin up, even the “hypoallergenic” ones), and after a few weeks it was decided that it wasn’t my SVT that was acting up. I had developed Sinus Tachycardia. It’s basically the same thing as SVT, except it’s more activity induced IE; walking up stairs or a hill, running, lifting heavy things, and so on. They sent me to a specialist on ST, who told me that I could either continue working out to try and build a resistance to it, or I could take a lot of drugs that might help it. Basically, this wasn’t something that could be “fixed”. There was no surgery for this. I opted to try and build a resistance to it. For the last year I’ve tried to remain as active as possible. I always take the stairs, I even run up them most days even though I feel like I’m going to die doing it. I walk, I run around with my dog, etc. Nothing has changed. It’s just gotten worse. I'm worried. Some days, I feel like my heart is just giving up. Like it’s struggling to beat. It really makes me worry. What if it shortens my life? What if I’m not here to answer Robbie’s questions when he is older? What if my heart makes it impossible to have another child? It’s part of why I keep a journal, and this blog. If something happens to me, I want him to be able read my/our story, in my words. Even still, I feel like it’s not enough.
Eh, perhaps I’ll try the meds :-/