Part Two

We are never late, Gina and I. It is something I learned that either working in restaurants or in Aspen, showing up on time is half the job. I think Gina just has it in her genes. We showed up at the Dr. appointment exactly on time which is a little too close for me, it was okay this time for Gina, but we were on time so I shouldn't sweat it. This was the follow up appointment, post ablation procedure, with the great Dr. L at the UCH Heart Center. She was going to do, I guess, a routine checkup.

I had my list of questions to ask, mostly about my medications and such. I also had some paper work I needed Dr. signatures on so I could go back to work. That is really what I wanted to accomplish with this visit. If I got my return to work paper work signed I figured that all else was good.

I got about 3 hours of sleep the night before so I was felling less than 100%; damn that prednisone. My blood pressure was low but otherwise I felt okay. I would get the questions answered and the papers signed and all would be good. And it was. And I got the once over from the great Dr. L. Not to shabby. She is very thorough. She told us some interesting facts about sarcoid and vitamin D and calcium, that I will not bore you with. She also eluded to the fact that she is friends with my other sarcoid doctor at Nation Jewish. She is very impressive. So I leave with my paper work and a smile and we are off to the rest of the day: thanksgiving feast at Anna's school and then home for a nap. It was nice to go to school and see Anna in her learning environment.

It was also good to run into people that we knew there too. The part two of this whole crazy mother loving saga: the getting on with life, the running into people, the doing things with family, the standing in the playground talking about our kids. The part where people says "its good to see you" and ask you "how your doing". The part where I say its great to see you and the part where I have have an answer about how I am doing.

And the answer I am doing fine. Really, I feel well. I am still recovering from wasting away in the hospital for so long. That's been hard. Not having a lot of energy and not a lot of stamina. My muscles really atrophied while I was hooked up to the monitor and IV in the hospital and didn't feel like doing laps around the 10th floor. I remember that night before Halloween when I was taking the dog for a walk and wondered if it was the exercise that got the sarcoid angry. So I was weary about doing anything to strenuous. Not that laps around the 10th floor are all that difficult but that's how I felt. But I feel fine now, just wish I could sleep more (damn that prednisone) .

The part two is also getting past the fact that the ICD is gonna fire. It might, it might not. It shouldn't, at least not for quite some time, not until the sarcoid gets angry again, and that shouldn't be anytime soon. I know kind of what the signs are now if it is going to fire: shortness of breath, palpitations, feeling crappy. The ICD is programmed to provide alternate therapy (its ATP but I cannot remember what it stands for) before the ICD fires and the ATP will try for a period of time before it is decided it is not effective and then the ICD fires.

The part two is also getting past the fact that I feel like I should be on a tether. Like I shouldn't ever be too far from help. That's going to be hard. But that's what I have to do.

Sometimes, I don't know about you, but when crazy crap happens to you you look at life differently. Or life is different for you. You see things differently. Like the other night after they discharged me from the hospital, after the ablation, we were home watching Kung Fu Panda. And the panda/Dragon Warrior learns that there is no secret ingredient to the secret ingredient noodle soup. For some reason that spoke to me. The secret ingredient is nothing (dramatic pause, 5 seconds at least). The getting past this, getting into part two, following Dr. S instructions of "go live life", the secret to making all this happen is...nothing.

Okay, well here I go, boldly, head first into part two, with no secret to making it all happen. Just got to do it. I need to forget that the ICD will fire, I need to get off the tether. Part Two here I come.