On Thursday I had a check-up with my cardiologist and the defibrillator clinic at RPAH, which is about a month after being discharged from hospital.
I got good news, really good news. There were no changes to my heart post the cardiac arrest and no incidents recorded on the defibrillator.
I've mentioned this news to a few close friends and my automatic declaration after sharing the news, is to let them know how relieved I am.
I was lying. I'm not relieved. I'm even more confused because "I'm (almost) back to normal" with nothing really wrong; with no solid reason as to why this incident happened; and still, with no certain answers. The reality is that I will never have any (certain) answers. It's the uncertainty that I have to come to terms and live with.
I'm scared that any moment I could have another cardiac arrest.
What if I'm walking and crossing the road with Zoe, when it happens?
What if I fall and hit my head?
What if....who knows?
In the waiting room at RPAH to see the defibrillator doctors, my husband got chatting to a gentleman who was also there for his check-up. He's in his early 60's and up to his third model of defibrillator. He's had 38 zaps.
I asked what happens when he gets zapped. He said he sees a white flash before his eyes then blacks out for some time, before coming to. He advised me if this happens, to sit down and remain seated in case there is an additional zap after several minutes. He told me that one time he was on the escalators at a shopping center when he got zapped and he collapsed. People walked past him without helping, without checking if he's OK. Until a bit later, when two tradies figured out what happened and called an ambulance. My heart broke when he told me the story. I was surprised I didn't cry when he was talking to me. He's really sick. He can no longer work, he can hardly do anything and he should have a constant carer, but he can't afford one. He could have died 38 times but the defibrillator saved him.
Chris asked me if I felt better speaking to him, if I was convinced the defibrillator works? Sure, technically yes, I felt a little more convinced that it does work. But I felt more sad that that man has had such a tough time, that he's so sick. That, in no way makes me feel better that in comparison, I'm not as sick. Everyone experiences their own level of suffering. I'm just sad that for whatever reason, there's so many people out there that are unwell.
Over six weeks after the cardiac arrest, I am still finding out slivers of new information about the event. The day of the arrest I was touch and go. A hospital counselor spoke to Chris when I was admitted into hospital in the ICU. My condition was uncertain. She advised him to ring our immediate family/friends to let them know what happened. They didn't know whether I would make it or not.
This piece of information came out when we were having lunch with some friends on Saturday. I was shocked to say the least. I knew the situation was severe, but I had somehow managed to downplay it in my mind so I could process it. I buried the severity deep down inside me so I wouldn't be terrified, but instead could function. And now, that terror is surfacing. I really don't want to have another cardiac arrest.
Chris' view has been interesting. He said I experienced the worse possible thing I could, and survived it. That may be the case but at this stage, it still doesn't mean that I'm not terrified it could happen again.
I got good news, really good news. There were no changes to my heart post the cardiac arrest and no incidents recorded on the defibrillator.
I've mentioned this news to a few close friends and my automatic declaration after sharing the news, is to let them know how relieved I am.
I was lying. I'm not relieved. I'm even more confused because "I'm (almost) back to normal" with nothing really wrong; with no solid reason as to why this incident happened; and still, with no certain answers. The reality is that I will never have any (certain) answers. It's the uncertainty that I have to come to terms and live with.
I'm scared that any moment I could have another cardiac arrest.
What if I'm walking and crossing the road with Zoe, when it happens?
What if I fall and hit my head?
What if....who knows?
In the waiting room at RPAH to see the defibrillator doctors, my husband got chatting to a gentleman who was also there for his check-up. He's in his early 60's and up to his third model of defibrillator. He's had 38 zaps.
I asked what happens when he gets zapped. He said he sees a white flash before his eyes then blacks out for some time, before coming to. He advised me if this happens, to sit down and remain seated in case there is an additional zap after several minutes. He told me that one time he was on the escalators at a shopping center when he got zapped and he collapsed. People walked past him without helping, without checking if he's OK. Until a bit later, when two tradies figured out what happened and called an ambulance. My heart broke when he told me the story. I was surprised I didn't cry when he was talking to me. He's really sick. He can no longer work, he can hardly do anything and he should have a constant carer, but he can't afford one. He could have died 38 times but the defibrillator saved him.
Chris asked me if I felt better speaking to him, if I was convinced the defibrillator works? Sure, technically yes, I felt a little more convinced that it does work. But I felt more sad that that man has had such a tough time, that he's so sick. That, in no way makes me feel better that in comparison, I'm not as sick. Everyone experiences their own level of suffering. I'm just sad that for whatever reason, there's so many people out there that are unwell.
Over six weeks after the cardiac arrest, I am still finding out slivers of new information about the event. The day of the arrest I was touch and go. A hospital counselor spoke to Chris when I was admitted into hospital in the ICU. My condition was uncertain. She advised him to ring our immediate family/friends to let them know what happened. They didn't know whether I would make it or not.
This piece of information came out when we were having lunch with some friends on Saturday. I was shocked to say the least. I knew the situation was severe, but I had somehow managed to downplay it in my mind so I could process it. I buried the severity deep down inside me so I wouldn't be terrified, but instead could function. And now, that terror is surfacing. I really don't want to have another cardiac arrest.
Chris' view has been interesting. He said I experienced the worse possible thing I could, and survived it. That may be the case but at this stage, it still doesn't mean that I'm not terrified it could happen again.
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