It will be three years this April since I had heart surgery. I know. I AM a Wild Rider, but I had a problem with PVST’s which cramped my style. After the last one left me reeling for days, I made an appointment with a cardiologist to get the dang thing fixed.
Dr. Oza peeked into my room twice before coming in.
“Are you Susan Lindau?”
“Yep, that’s me.”
“Really! I looked at your birth date and was looking for someone much older-looking.”
What a charming man. An intelligent man. A man whose judgment I could trust.
He explained that most people have an electric system in their heart like fingers on a hand. A normal pulse starts at the palm and runs out to the fingertips. In my case, one of the pathways was linked. Think of the tip of my thumb and forefinger touching like I am giving you the “okay” sign, only it was not okay. In fact, it really sucked. Every so often the beat would leap into that circular pathway and my rhythmic heart rate would soar. It was like house music on speed with a gigantic woofer. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Continue reading