Oh Black Water

Black Water got me. It was approximately 40 minutes into the morning class I was subbing, which is my old slot at 0530, when I felt the now familiar glug, plop and throb in my heart. It feels like what pumping air into an inner tube and watching it expand irregularly looks like. You can feel the potential for the building pressure to find the tubes weak point and burst through it. This is obviously problematic and the main reason anticoagulants are so common these days. The thinner the blood’s viscosity the less likely the chance of clotting. 

I am dealing with all of this as we power through this morning’s protocol. In it, 30 second sprints are always lurking in the very near future, and despite the 90 seconds of recovery earned as a result of high intensity, today it appears that I suffered a (another?) bout of exercise induced atrial fibrillation. I silently curse the crazy 0-225 heart rate readings on my heads up display, pathetically trying to assign blame to the data and not myself, and try to work through it by leveling off the intervals and keeping steady output. I drink and I try to relax but my legs are heavy from yesterdays 2 hour session and I am sinking fast. I silently curse louder to express my frustration and decide to ride it out, keeping resistance lower than the protocol requirement. We call this fakin' it and I plead the fifth. 

This has been happening way to often. My last visit to the cardiology department at UW in July was interesting in as much as my favorite electro-cardiologist, after translating the downloaded data from the pacer into layman’s English announced that if I could live with (nice phraseology doc) going into A-Fib just 4 times in a year (as was the actuality) then no additional ablation work would be necessary. I said sure not a problem, done deal. 

I have, according to my notes and this log, gone in twice that in the last 2 weeks alone. I would never say this to her, but I will to you, WTF?

As if that wasn’t enough torture for one day, my second class allowed less than an hour to recover and head back to the club. All the way I considered the option of teaching out of the saddle, something I almost dislike to the point of hatred. So I fessed up with the class announcing that we might try something completely different today so be ready for change and a challenge. Oohs and aahs erupt. The plan was to go as long as I could and then bail for the relative safety of the floor. 

Off we go in set number 2, my heart still ping-ponging like a tweaking chimpanzee. I pledge to keep a handle on the intensity and ride a smooth and groovy hour leading the class in the same protocol as the earlier session. I get through warm up and we begin. And even though I can see the numbers bound and rebound, it is OK. Sure I feel terrible and a little light headed, but we are getting through. 

And we make it. I had to ask for help a couple of times as to where were were in the progression, but we rode it out. Nobody died, there were no 911 calls and no one was required to preform CPR. 

And I am here talking about it. 

My treatment has been to lay down in that safe, quiet and warm place and relax into deep meditation. Essentially to STOP THE MONKEY GO ROUND powered by the pair of cohorts in crime responsible for this felony, my head and my heart, and allow the pacer to kick-in at 70 beats per minute as programmed. The idea being that once that rate is reached the pacer simply emits an electronic pulse to re-establish sinus rhythm. 

Oh black water keep on rollin. Wish me luck.