Ablation Nation

 Back in the summer, my atrial fibrillation returned.  There weren't a lot of symptoms, aside from a little more sweatiness, and it being summer, I didn't think much of it, until I went to my cardiologist for a regular appointment, and he announced that I was indeed in atrial fibrillation again.

My cardiologist.  I guess I should say that in quotes, since the man I have thought of as my cardiologist since my trouble started in 2022 has left that pratice, and despite getting a referreal to his new practice, I haven't been able to jump over with him.  So, I've met my new cardiologist for a few minutes, and the rest of the work has been done by a nurse practicioner.  

Well, an EKG here, and a futuristic heart monitor that pulled out chest hairs there, and a meeting with a specialist, and then a transfer to a different specialist owing to that the first specialist's being out of network....

I got to go to Parkridge Hospital in Chattanooga on Wednesday.  There, I got to have my groin shaved, and I got to be put to sleep, and have probes run up veins so that they can dampen one or two of the centers of my heart that were sending errant signals.  

As of right now, my heart's beating normally again.  It may revert back and forth in the next couple months.  If it continues to go back and forth, they may send me for a cardioversion in 3 months.

Anesthesia was an interesting experience.  Apparently, as I wandered up out of unconsciousness, I took to talking to everybody who would listen about which dinosaur was their favorite.

It's nice to know that even groggy from anesthesia, I stay on benignly goofy brand.

It was a mostly routine procedure.  No issues.

Still.  It was scary.  

I wish I had words to elaborate on that.  On why it's scary.  It just is.  Knowing that I'm not immortal.  That I'm not as healthy as I've bullshitted myself to believe.

I've been losing weight.  About 30 pounds since the end of July.  I don't have a target weight.  Maybe a target shirt size.  Maybe I can get down to a 2xl.  Get one of those nice Cubs starter jackets that pop across my suggested ads every year or two.

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Healthy food talk aside, I think I'm gonna have to wander out toward Middle Tennessee at some point after the initial furor dies down.  But In n Out Buter has opened franchises out there, and I'd like ot get my Lebowski on after visiting Larry Sellers about some homework.....