I am sitting in a hospital room in Boston. We came here 8 days ago.
I have slept in a Holiday Inn, on the couch-bed in a hospital room, and in a quaint little inn.
I have used almost all of a tube of travel-sized toothpaste.
We are on a first-name basis with the residents and an attending or two. The cleaning staff stops to chat with me in the hall.
We have claimed the corner of a shelf in the fridge.
The shift manager of the coffee shop downstairs recognizes me now.
I have been away from home too long.
A couple days ago I asked my 9-year-old if he would please stop eating so he wouldn’t grow any more while we’re away. He laughed and told me, “No way!”
The cardiovascular center at Brigham and Women’s Hospital in Boston is the best in the world – or so I am told. I am comforted by that thought.
The electrophysiologists here did an ablation procedure on my husband’s right ventricle last Tuesday. They assure us it went well. They found on major source of arrhythmia, and they ablated that. He does still have several other areas misfiring crazy little beats here and there (PVCs or premature ventricular contractions). There was no way to ablate all of those now. We will just have to wait and see if they get worse and cause vtach (ventricular tachycardia). Then they could be ablated.
We came to Boston because the doctors in FL do not do this procedure.
After the ablation, the electrophysiologists and heart failure specialists told us that my husband’s initial diagnosis may be wrong. This could be good news! I can explain more of that later, but -for now- I’ll say that I feel like I have been living in an episode of House for the past week.
Right now, my husband is having a heart biopsy. The doctors can then examine this tiny bit of his heart and -we hope- learn exactly what is causing the arrhythmias and heart function decline.
In the meantime, I wait — and chat with the cleaning staff and the coffee shop manager.