Thursday, August 21, 2014

Day 229, Sorry about that

OK where did we leave off?

Right, I was cursing up a storm, vulgarizing my predicament. Being a smart-ass shock-jock (see photo)

As Maxwell Smart might say, 'Sorry about that.'

In my self defense, allow me to plead for some forgiveness and understanding.

It HAS been a frustrating 18 months. I have been unable to do many of the things that mirthfully contribute to my perception of quality of life. I have lost girlfriends, jobs, health, fitness, power, and my house.

All because of a genetic (partially) heart condition called Atrial Fibrillation, A-Fib for short. In the eighteen months since it was diagnosed we have tried everything known to medicine to cure. The latest was a procedure known as a catheter ablation (with a TEE). This consisted of ramming two catheters up my groin and into my heart along with another down my throat as a scoping monitor. They locate, map and then cauterize the nodes causing irregular heartbeats and the devastating resulting symptoms. Take my word it was NOT fun.

The procedure was two weeks ago. Week one I was in serious rehab, couldn't even lift a gallon of milk. But then, starting in week two I returned to spinning, indoor cycling and even pounded out a couple of 5Ks. I was feeling GREAT. I was in sinus rhythm and back at it.

And then, like a snap of lightning, I went back into A-Fib. This was confirmed by EKG yesterday. I was, excuse please, heart broken.

I came home, had time to consider, then did a 2x20 set at about 75% power. This was after our regular morning set of an hour of high intensity intervals at the club.

When I finally got home after that long day, I laid down and cried.

God dam it, I sobbed.

That lasted about three minutes.

Until I saw this new circumstance as just another pothole in the path.

I can give up. Cry like a baby. Feel sorry for myself. Drink into oblivion. Score some legal herb and zone out.

Or get back at it and experience the process. Because this, dear friends, is that.

Part of the process.

Nobody said it was going to be easy.

Or if they did I had the headphones on.

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