End of June marks three months since the cardiac arrest.
Apart from the mental which I've started to delve into, there is a series of physical afflictions I've been dealing with in relation to the arrest. I have only felt comfortable sharing these now and I do so with some hesitation, but feel that I need to in order to continue on the path of healing.
I saw my chiropractor Luke on Saturday and finally had a long overdue adjustment. Based on Luke's advice, I couldn't get my left side adjusted earlier than eight weeks after the ICD insertion, but didn't feel comfortable, mentally or physically ready to get any adjustments done until now. I've been feeling stiff and sore in different locations in my body, particularly after laying in bed and sitting around for three weeks after getting the ICD put in (which was approximately one week after the arrest). The cardiac rehabilitation program with the physiotherapist has helped, but new injuries/issues arose (e.g. hips out of whack, so kept getting a sore knee when training). I really needed an adjustment and now feel so much better for it! There were a lot of blockages, particularly (and not surprisingly!) on my left side and top half of my body.
The ICD was inserted in the left sub mammary pocket. It's usually inserted underneath the left collarbone and noticeably protrudes under the skin, but since I have a zipper scar running down the middle of my chest; and my left breast plate protrudes more than the right (both from my open heart surgery in 1988), I wanted to avoid bringing even more attention to my chest.
For the first six weeks after the ICD insertion, I wasn't allowed to lift my left arm above shoulder height. Even if I wanted to I couldn't, because there was a lot of soreness from the operation and felt the strange sensation of the ICD leads pulling with any sudden or lifting movement. They needed time to fuse with the tissue and this takes about six weeks.
Apart from the internal stuff, I have two external scars from the surgical incisions: one close to my left collarbone where the leads were inserted; and one underneath my left breast where the ICD was inserted. Also, I have a significant scar on the left side of my neck (looks like a massive pimple) where the IV was inserted while I was in intensive care.
The whole underneath of my left breast was severely bruised from the operation and because of this and the incision underneath it, I couldn't wear a bra for four weeks.
My chest was constantly sore from the CPR, which had caused me to have fractured ribs. These can take at least six weeks to heal. Every time I breathed in I would experience sharp pains. So I got used to a shallow, half breathing type of constant state to minimise the pain.
I couldn't sleep on my front (it's my preferred go-to-sleep position) or left side, so it was impossible to get comfortable and often to fall asleep.
I had bruising and track marks like a junkie, running up and down my arms from the IVs in hospital and daily blood tests I had for two weeks while I was admitted.
I had (and still have, but somewhat slightly calmer now) pimples on mainly my neck, but also my face, back and backside from the stress from the whole event. I feel like I'm going through puberty...again. It wasn't fun the first time and it's not fun a subsequent one.
Most importantly, from being bed-ridden for a month, apart from the stiffness, I became totally unfit and struggled to even go down the twelve stairs in our building to get to the ground level. Not to mention the constant tiredness and low energy levels.
On Friday I graduated from the Cardiac Rehabilitation/Heart Failure Program at St George Hospital. I got quite emotional and upon reflection, realised what a massive milestone it is for me, particularly taking all the physical afflictions listed above into consideration. It feels like a massive achievement because I've come so far from being a fragile post operative and cardiac arrest patient, to being well on my way to feeling strong, fit and energetic again.
The visit to Luke and a couple of things he said got me thinking a lot about all these physical afflictions and how I feel about the ICD. I was hugging Chris the other night and could feel it there between us. I feel it every night I lie in bed on my left side to go to sleep. It still feels so foreign and strange, a part that doesn't belong to me but yet is connected and vital. It's such a strange duality to experience and with time, one that I need to accept as being part of me.
I've come a long way but now realise that it's just the beginning. There's still a lot of work to do and these things can't be rushed, particularly the mental aspects. I'm just taking it one day and one milestone at a time; and practicing my deep breathing.
