A Short Organ Recital

This is a recap of my visit to the cardiologist yesterday morning, so if you’re not interested, you won’t hurt my feelings if you move on. Some of you won’t like what I have to say anyway, and that’s fine.

Short report: I am well.

Full report: Back on Memorial Day, I ended up in the ER with a heart arrhythmia that turned out to be atrial flutter. Atrial flutter is the less dramatic version of atrial fibrillation. but it’s still darned unpleasant. Ultimately, after a series of unsuccessful interventions, I had to be knocked out briefly while my heart was shocked back into a normal rhythm. I was put on a temporary course of an anti-platelet medication and on a very low dose of a beta blocker (metoprolol) to help regulate my heart rate. I was scheduled for a visit with a cardiologist in July.

I do not do well with doctors, at least in professional settings. I have had a myriad of unpleasant, invasive medical procedures in my lifetime. I gave birth to a baby born without a brain after a 12-hour induced labor. I was diagnosed with leukemia and had six months of chemo, multiple bone marrow biopsies, and, finally, four holes drilled into my pelvis to harvest bone marrow for storage. I ended up on a ventilator for a week in the ICU. It matters not how calm I may be before a doctor’s visit—as soon as I walk into the office, some instinctive fight or flight mechanism kicks in and my blood pressure shoots through the roof. It is virtually impossible to get an accurate BP reading on me. Unfortunately, as soon as the nurse sees the numbers, I get a lecture about my high BP and how dangerous that is and how it needs to be treated. If I say, “It is normal at home. I have white coat hypertension,” then I am told that that is a myth. Naturally, that kind of condescending response has only served to strengthen the negative feedback loop as I anticipate the unpleasant lecture I am going to get when someone takes my blood pressure.

I went to see the cardiologist in July. The nurse looked askance at my ridiculously high BP reading but said only, “We’ll let the doctor talk to you about that.” I was all ready to recite my extensive medical history to him as the reason my BP is high at doctor visits, but he had already looked at my chart. “Well,” he said, “you have ample reason to dislike hospitals and doctors, and white coat hypertension certainly is a possibility.” He went on to say that he wanted to see an echocardiogram in any case, and that if I did have high blood pressure outside of medical settings, it would show up on the echo as a thickening of the walls of my heart. “The echo doesn’t lie,” he said. I also had to wear a heart monitor for a week. We talked about a possible ablation.

I had the echocardiogram about three weeks ago, and met with the cardiologist yesterday morning to review the results. The nurse said, as she was taking my BP, “The doctor put a note in your chart about possible white coat hypertension.” It was elevated again, but not nearly as much as it had been in July. I waited a few minutes and the doctor came in.

“I believe you when you say you don’t have high blood pressure,” he said. “There is no thickening of the heart muscle on your echo. There was nothing worrying on your Holter monitor readout, either.” I asked about an ablation, and he said that he was not inclined to rush to one right now. He said that if I end up in the ER again or have any other problems, I am to contact him immediately and we’ll reconsider. Otherwise, he’ll see me in a year. A year after that, if I still have no issues, he’ll discharge me from care.

And then I asked the 65-million-dollar question. I had the first Pfizer vaccine on May 11. Three weeks later, I ended up in the ER needing to be cardioverted. I was told by the doc there to hold off getting the second dose. I have not had it yet because I wanted the cardiologist’s opinion and because I have seen so many reports of heart problems after the vaccine. I went into the appointment yesterday already having decided against the second dose, but I asked my cardiologist for his opinion. He did not argue with my reasoning, nor could he assure me that the dose I got in May didn’t precipitate the arrhythmia I experienced. He is fine with me foregoing the second dose. I do have some protection from the first dose.

That MTHFR mutation that I carry has caused no end of problems for me. (It was directly responsible for our first baby’s birth defect.) I’ve belonged to some MTHFR support groups where vaccine injuries have been overrepresented compared to the rest of the population. You can call that anecdotal, but a cluster of anecdotes points to a need for further research. Classically-trained physicians have been no help in figuring out how to deal with that mutation. My naturopath has done some research, but most of what I know about that mutation has been ferreted out by me through lots of effort. I am a clinical trial of one, and the only results—THE ONLY RESULTS—I am concerned about are the ones that impact me. I don’t care if the covid vaccines are “safe” for the majority of people if they aren’t “safe” for me. And if you think that calling someone selfish for not wanting to put themselves at risk to protect you makes you the more virtuous person, then perhaps you need a good dictionary. The selfish person in that equation might not be the person you think it is.

You cannot imagine how angry it makes me to hear people demanding that everyone be vaccinated, no exceptions. I had reservations about the first dose given my medical history. However, I was between a rock and a hard place because I know what it’s like to end up on a ventilator in the ICU. I know people who have had covid. I was about to travel to a location with a documented outbreak. I was also getting pressure from other people.

I am putting this here for full disclosure. I am not “fully vaccinated.” I do not intend to become so. I have run the numbers through my personal risk matrix and the risk of getting sick from covid is not as big as the risk of heart damage from an experimental vaccine. If this means that you don’t want to be around me, then so be it. I will understand your decision just as I hope you can understand mine. And I hope that if you’re currently one of the hardliners who wants 100% compliance with the vaccine, perhaps you can develop some sorely-needed compassion for people who have legitimate reasons to hesitate. Then again, if you’re someone who can only view the world in terms of black and white, yes or no, good and evil, and who believes that only the people who agree with you have a sound moral compass, you’re not someone who is likely to remain in my circle of friends.

I am not anti-vaxx. I get a tetanus booster every ten years. I’ll be getting a flu shot sometime in the next couple of weeks. This is no different from me reacting badly to morphine (I am allergic to it). Morphine may be safe for the majority of people, but it’s not safe FOR ME.

Here endeth my sermon. Be civil in your comments.

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One by one, I am getting these big events out of the way. The Ritzville sale is this weekend. The pigs go to the processor on October 11, and we’re working on getting a chicken butchering day scheduled.

I am having a fair bit of fun making hexies. I can do a couple every evening, and they’re beginning to stack up:

I am not yet sure what I want to do with them but they make great handwork.

The tomatoes have to come out today. I didn’t get to them Monday because I had Ali’s little guy here. He helped me pick all the Honeycrisp apples off the tree, which was great fun. I let him climb the ladder. I’ll see how much garden cleanup I can get done today.