Two weeks ago, I went in for my first appointment with the cardiologist; he agreed with the diagnosis for the most part and prescribed an electrophysiology study, or EPS, the following week. That study was scheduled for this last Thursday, and was likely going to involve an ablation as well. Basically, an EPS is where they take a long catheter and, through an insertion point in the groin, snake a series of probes up the vena cava to the heart, where they then prod at various points on it to see how it reacts. An ablation is similar, but then they also snake up a small Tesla coil and burn portions of the heart to get rid of faulty nervous tissue causing any sort of loop or fibrillation.

Got to the hospital about half an hour before the scheduled time, but the appointment before mine was delayed significantly for an unknown reason; the hospital called me as I was leaving to see if I could make it there within the next ~15 minutes so they could perform my operation first, but as the drive there from my place is ~2.5 hours, there was no way. As a result, my own operation was delayed a grand total of six hours as we waited for the first patient's EPS to be completed. (There was a complication during the procedure, and as a result it took far longer than they'd anticipated.)

Now usually, for an EPS, they'll drug you, but only enough to numb you and maaaybe make you drowzy; they want you to be responsive so you can tell them if something they've done to the heart is either extremely painful or induces the problematic symptoms you'd been experiencing, to expedite the procedure. In my case, they opted to put me flat under. As a result, the ~seven hours of the operation were a mere blip to me. When I woke up, I was being wheeled back to my bay in the cardiology recovery wing, and they were giving the documentation of the procedure to my parents. (Someone had to be present to pick me up, and when my parents heard what needed to be done, they dropped everything and drove cross-country to be here.) It took me another hour to really become cognizant, at which point they informed me of what they'd found during the procedure and why my left arm was bound to my side.

The EPS turned up nothing in the way of induced tachycardia, the way the Holter monitor seemed to suggest; rather, they discovered that my left bundle branch block was serious enough to warrant a pacemaker. Because it was now after 10pm, my parents were sent back to my place, and I was rolled to a room in the hospital's inpatient wing for the night. They checked my vitals every four hours, and I was restricted from eating solid food until I was discharged the next day (and even the liquid diet was held off until roughly midnight) due to the anesthetics used during the procedure. At 5am, a woman came in to take an X-ray of my chest to make sure the pacemaker had been set properly and that the body's healing hadn't knocked it out of place; at 6, the doctor came in and gave me my directions on what I could and could not do for the next few weeks. There were many other tests performed to make sure my health was as good as it could be before I was finally discharged a little after noon.

My parents drove back down and picked me up; we had a light lunch in El Paso before trekking to Alamogordo for prescriptions (antibiotics and painkillers) and a few groceries. We'd also dropped my car off at the shop for an oil leak on the way to the hospital, which was repaired and ready to be picked up by the time we returned. I was still unfit to drive, so my dad drove it while my mom drove the rental car. When we got back, my parents dropped myself and my car off at my place, then drove up to where they were staying (another building on-site at the observatory I work at); after taking care of my cat and taking my pills, I walked over there with little issue. After dinner, I walked back home, where I promptly passed out.

Saturday, I was awoken by my cat standing, all four paws, directly on my pacemaker. The pain was indescribable. I suspect he noticed the lump in my chest and was planning on kneading it back down. Thankfully, my scream of anguish killed that plan.

Awake and about, and since my parents were in town, we all took the day and went into Cloudcroft for some good old-fashioned tourism. (I'd actually never been to Cloudcroft for that, but had been there many times for other things.) I did have to stop a few times, not to catch my breath (which is amazing, as Cloudcroft is ~9000 feet ABS and I did used to get winded walking around the observatory, being at 7200 feet), but because the hole in my groin was causing me mild discomfort. The painkillers were quite effective in that regard, and surprisingly have not caused excess drowsiness that I've noticed yet. I did pick up a copy of The Hunchback of Notre Dame and Les Miserables, both by Victor Hugo (and both books I'd been wanting to get my hands on for some time), from the local used book store, as well as a nice Mexican poncho from another shop. (I'd forgotten my coat, but also it was really nice. Looks to be made from a real rug!)

My parents left bright and early this morning; by the time I woke up, they were almost to Clovis, with plans to make it to Joplin by tonight. I've been recovering rather well, in spite of things. Now that my blood is being circulated more correctly, things feel warmer and colder than they used to. Also, wow do I bleed. But, at the same time, my skin is flush, and my body is starting to feel way better than it did even before the procedure. Still feeling exhausted upon waking, but I suspect that, too, will work itself out.

It's not all roses, of course; I mean, I do have a pacemaker in me. Every once in a while, I feel it jolt my chest (and sometimes it's a pretty serious jolt), and on occasion it causes me to hiccup. I also have to be careful in more situations now; going into stores, for example, I have to rush through the anti-theft security gates so the magnetic field doesn't disrupt the pacemaker. (Actually, one time I did try to linger, and I actually really felt it.) I can't keep my phone in a left breast pocket, and can't even hold it up to my left ear. Not allowed to go through metal detectors, either. (I even have a special card for airport and federal building use!) MRIs are, somehow, okay, but they're still fairly contraindicated unless it's a life-or-death situation. I also have to keep a very strict schedule with the cardiologist, to make sure the device is working properly and to make any changes to its programming that he might see fit. Still, all things considered, I'd rather be with it than without it.