The Litany Against Fear

I will not fear. Fear is the mind killer. Fear is the little death that brings total obliteration. (Frank Herbert)

Friday, November 17, 2006

Oh, My Poor Heart!

I've hit another snag treatment wise. My heart is not taking Herceptin well. It was a risk when I started treatment. The susceptibility of my heart (due to sickness as a baby) was one of the major reasons why we chose Taxotere over Avastin. Now that my heart is struggling we'll be watching that very closely. If it gets too bad I'll have to stop Herceptin for a time until my heart can recover.

What happened was I was rushing from the bus stop to the hospital for an appointment with Dr. Lee. It's a long walk and I was late so I was moving as fast as my tired ass self could go. I was out of breath, flushed, and hot but to me it seemed perfectly normal considering I hadn't moved that fast for that long in quite awhile. Dr. Lee and his nurse, Peggy, were taking my heart rate every 5 minutes. It was not going down. I was fine to the naked eye but my heart was definatly not fine. I was sent to the ER to get me hooked up to heart monitors. Everyone was rushing around me like it was a code or something. It might have been now that I think about it.

I got a lot of questions from different people and none of them like my answers. How do I feel? Fine. Is my heart racing? No. Am I out of breath? No. There were a lot of concerned looks and murmurs then they all left the room like a flock of birds squaking at one another. I was bored so I got out the crossword puzzle book I carried for bus rides and started working away. Occasionally the monitors I was hooked with would go off and the birds would all come back. Fluttering around and asking questions. Are you sure you feel okay? Yes....should I be?

The answer was no. I should definately not be working on a crossword puzzle in the ER while hooked up to heart montiors that keep beeping in alarm. Okay, I said, now I don't feel well.

I was in Ventricular Tachicardia, V-Tach. My heart was beating fast and irratically. I should have noticed. I should have felt light headed, out of breath, and I definately should have noticed that my heart was beating way too fast and way too hard. I didn't, which means I have a-symptomatic V-Tach and that is a very bad thing because my body should be trying to warn me that I might be dying.

I spent the night in the hospital and met a lovely cardiologist, Dr. Hall. She's my height and has a warm smile. I had an ultrasound of my heart. The tech said I had a pretty heart. She explained that most of the hearts she looked at were damaged and didn't light up the screen so much. My heart lit up the screen so much she had to turn the light down. Dr. Hall came in with her diagnosis. My heart was weak from the chemo and Herceptin. It was having to work overtime to pump the blood out of it.

The medication they gave me keeps my heart fairly consistant when I'm at rest, but any exercise can cause my heart to beat even harder, so hard that it might stop. The only way to be sure that doesn't happen is not to exercise. Not a good thing for my ass that's for sure. Nothing more than a casual walk for me if I want my heart to be "Zen-like." That's what Dr. Hall told me I needed to be.

We also learned that my original heart capacity was likely at the extreme end of normal. I probably had a heart capacity closer to Lance Armstrong than the average person. It's all speculation, but I should have had symptoms long before now unless my heart was pretty strong to begin with. For a woman who had life-threatening heart problems as a baby this was remarkable to hear.

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