I resisted the default 'fine, still standing or not-bad', with more of an accurate assessment.
For the record it went something like this:
The mechanical, technical and medical components surrounding the pacemaker install are all good. They do their jobs and there hasn't been any further incidents of arrhythmia since the procedure in October. I am back to working-out very hard in preparation for a half-Ironman race in June. My mental state is immeasurably improved and I feel good. All good. The bad is that the medications tasked with maintaining all this cause some rather ugly side-effects. I could list them but I don't want to bore you. It is sufficient to say that there is currently a 50/50 split between what I envision to be the experimental time necessary for dosage correction and my adaptation to the chemicals and their demands.
I can manage most of the big uglies. The one that is a caged (and pissed-off) Godzilla is the horrific nightmares that stalk me in my sleep. Only the acronym OMG can adequately classify. Sometimes I don't want to go there (sleep) because I am terrified of another round with this nasty fire-breathing heavyweight.
BUT, it is getting better. Last night I told Mr Zilla to get the heck out of my dream. Just turn around and scurry your scaly butt up those stairs and out of my head. NOW.
And it worked. At 0312 I was wide awake trying to decide whether or not it was real. For some reason I had my iPhone in hand and I saw the clock as well as Stella (the dog I am sitting) looking at me from the foot of the bed with eyes as big as neon hubcaps. I know what she must have been thinking.
I feel empowered today. We have another session this evening where I will hammer again to partially prepare for my A race and partially to induce fatigue so I can sleep. Earn it, we like to say.
And if that SOB shows up again, I now know the value of looking your fear in the eyes.
Just turn around and scurry your scaly butt up those stairs and out of my head. NOW.
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