Well, fellow travellers. I haven’t posted for a long while , but I have been lurking. Like many others, I tend to “forget” about the forum while I am too busy enjoying life and return when things are not so rosy.
I am at loss to explain the purpose of this missive as it’s not particular uplifting nor is it a plea for help. It’s just something I needed to do and I hope it will in time be an uplifting tale of knock backs and rising from the ashes. Fingers crossed.
First of all I am truly grateful that my “big end” didn’t start wearing out until in my 60’s and feel so much sympathy for alll those living with any kind of life-limiting condition from their youth or for all their lives.
But, it’s a human condition to always want more and to feel “I did all I could and still this happened. I tend to forget that my body wasn’t exactly a temple for the first 60 years and my family history will repeat however much I protest “ I am not my mother or grandmother and definitely not my father or grandfather!” Tell that to my genes!
Anyway here’s what knocked my off my pedestal of clean living this week.
I had my first “annual” bloodtest since being diagnosed in June 2020. All was ok apparently. Couple of weeks later I had an invitation for an “annual” (yes that too was rather an elastic concept) phone health check with my GP. I told her that I have been well, learned to cope with my Afib and haven’t had an episode since last November. I did also mention that I find it really hard to keep walking briskly for more than 30min or so and that going uphill was not an option. Could this be my 10mg of Bisoprolol slowing me down perhaps? I also seem to have more and more troublesome abdominal bloating which I put down to my usually tricksy digestion.
It was decided to take some more bloods and to start slowly bringing my dosage of Bisoprolol down to see if that helps ( I haven’t started that yet and probably won’t now).
Next thing I know I have a message to contact the surgery and that’s easier said than done just now. The government may well have decided that the pandemic is over, but NHS begs to differ. They are all having their second attacks of the pesky virus, so I was told the doctor needs to talk to me quite urgently, but the first available phone appointment is over a week’s time.
So now, here I suppose is the educational element of this rambling post. Do not, at any circumstance check your test results on line through Patient Access if you don’t have access to your doctor and if you already made that mistake, then at least avoid typing Heart Failure in your search engine. I would now be planning my funeral, if I hadn’t decided a long time ago to have a direct cremation instead.
The blood test results where abnormal in so many different levels, including sodium, potassium, hemoglobin and that magic PN-Pro BNP (I never heard of it either) and in the notes “Indications of heart failure” recommend echocardiogram and specialist consultation within 6 weeks.
Sooo, not the end of the world perhaps, but the returns on the 5 year inflation busting investment made this year might not be enjoyed by me after all.
I was also disappointed by the “promise” that you will not die of Afib, I didn’t think that well managed paroxysmal atrial fibrillation would bring heart failure to the party so soon.
I tried to contact my lovely Arrythmia nurse, but she is on her well deserved annual leave.
In the mean time I will perhaps do a bit of cleaning to calm my nerves and plant some annuals instead of the birch tree glade I had in mind.
If you are still reading, I promise to keep you updated. Perhaps there was a mix up with the tests, perhaps my heart is failing just a little bit, perhaps one day I will actually see a doctor face to face (sorry, that last “perhapsl is probably slightly too over optimistic)