I got cancelledThis morning, Chuck drove me up to St Joe for a scheduled ablation to try to get rid of my aFib. Turns out the universe had other plans for me today. Let me regale you with my tale… It was a quiet, warm morning in Niles, MI. I got up at 4 am to get ready for surgery. No coffee. No food. No water. We were out the door by 5:15 am to head to St Joe, which is about a 30 minute drive away. When we got to the hospital, it was eerily quiet. Not the usual buzz of people. The lights were low. Very peaceful. I got checked in and waited for them to call me back. At about 6:10 am, the nurses came and got me. The nurse said, “Strip down to just what God gave you, honey.” I smiled. I liked her right away. I stripped down and donned the luxury hospital gown they gave me. I asked about undies as I was on the last day of my period (this bit is important, lest I would have spared you the detail). She brought me the fancy mesh underwear. I got myself sorted and then I laid back and let them get to work. Three nurses buzzed in and got to it. One poked in two IVs, one in each arm. Another stuck sticky pads all over to do an EKG. And yet another was setting up my blood pressure cuff and oxygen monitor. Once all that was set my nurse with the fun personality said, “It’s time for me to get up close and personal.” meaning she needed to shave around my legs and groin since that’s where the catheter goes in to weave it’s way up to the heart for the zapping. She took care of business. While I was laying there she asked, “You’re young. Why are you doing this?” It almost felt like an acusation. I replied, “Because the doctors recommended it for better quality of life.” That answer seemed to please her, as she finished up and went on to her next patient. Next, the anesthesiologist came in and explained what he was going to do. He thoroughly talked through his steps and how I’d have a breathing tube as the surgery would take between 2 - 3 hours. I’d need to be totally knocked out. I was grateful for his explanation and was starting to get more nervous and scared. But I had just gone through a surgery a couple months ago for my bone spur, so I felt confident that I could be courageous enough to do this. The next visitor was the electrocardiologist who would be performing the surgery. His thick accent made it so that I had to really pay attention and listen to fully understand him. He explained what he would be doing and how long it would take. Then he did something unexpected. He said, “Okay, this it the last chance. Are you sure you want to do this?” I was slightly taken aback. I had discussed this procedure with him, my cardiologist and my primary care doctor. Everyone agreed that it was a good idea given my otherwise really good health. I said, “Yes, unless you think there’s any reason I shouldn’t do it.” He reiterated that I’m in the early stages of my disease and that though aFib isn’t going to kill me, doing this procedure would likely provide me with a better quality of life. I said that’s what I would like. We signed the consent form and then he departed. A few minutes later, a couple of nurses came to roll me down to the operating room. I kissed Chuck goodbye and started the trek down the long halls to the OR. It all started to get very real. Tears were streaming from my eyes. They always do that when I am flooded with emotion. I was feeling all the feels. Fear, Joy, Anxiety, Love, Gratitude, to name a few. We got into the operating room and a swarm of lovely humans all started talking at me at once. One face stood out. He was so warm and caring. He asked me about how my toe was doing from my recent surgery. His eyes smiled and conveyed so much care. And then suddenly it all stopped. The doctor came out of a room and said, “No, we must stop. Her blood is too low.” I was confused. The swarm was confused. He explained that he had just gotten to look at the bloodwork and saw that my hemoglobin was at 12 a couple of months ago (my usual) and that it was at 8 today. I looked at my caring nurse, confused at what was going on. He said, “You don’t have any blood to lose, and you’re sure to lose blood during the procedure. He’s very conservative. We can’t do the surgery today.” I asked, “What do I do about my blood?” but they were already wheeling me back out of the room and back to my prep room. So, that’s how I got cancelled. There was a lot of confusion. I assume this doesn’t happen often, as all the nurses and staff were whispering in the hall. “No, she’s cancelled. The doctor stopped it.” Everyone that interacted with me apologized and opined about how much of a bummer it was to get all prepped for nothing. Finally, the doctor came in and explained it better. He asked if anything was out of the usual with me. I told him that my periods had been heavy for the last two months, but I had just chalked that up to the blood thinners. Turns out, it probably is because of the meds, but I had lost a lot of blood. From 12 units of measure to 8. Apparently, that’s significant. So for now, no more blood thinners and back to the iron supplement. I’ll get my blood checked again in two weeks to see if I’m back to a more normal range. We’ll see what the future holds. But as it stands today, I feel like everything worked out the way it was supposed to, I guess. Love you, Jess
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