Personal Essay

It’s a Wednesday night during Winter break. A few of my girlfriends and I decide to go

out to the club since we haven’t really been able to since school started.  I’m having a grand old

time on the dance floor when suddenly I feel as if I’ve been kicked in the chest by a horse. My

 whole body jerks. I don’t even know what just happened. I’m scared. I’ve never felt anything

like this before. Less than a minute later it happens again, and then two more times. I realize I

have been shocked by my defibrillator so I head straight for the hospital where I stay for the

next two days just to be told I’ve been shocked when I shouldn’t have been. I wonder if I should

have even agreed to getting this device. Is it even worth it?

After a long day at school I walk into the house to see my mother’s eyes filled with tears.

She realizes I’m home and looks at me with tears rolling down her cheeks and says “Your

cardiologist called with the results, you tested positive for Arrhythmogenic Right Ventricular

Dysplasia, a heart condition that cannot be cured”.  After going through tons of EKG’S, MRI’s,

cardiac ultrasounds, and wearing multiple heart monitors, I finally got an answer from a blood

sample. This disease, along with the ICD I will need, will change my life in many ways.

            Arrythmogenic Right Ventricular Dysplasia  is a genetic, progressive heart condition that

causes abnormal heart rhythms called arrhythmias which can increase the risk of sudden

cardiac arrest and sudden death. Patients with this disease have a right ventrical that is

replaced with fat and/or fiborous. This ventrical is dilated and contracts poorly which weakens

the hearts ability to pump blood the way it should. Some symptoms include palpitations,

dizziness, lightheadedness, fainting, and heart failure. Heart failure includes shortness of breath

and the inability to do normal activities without feeling fatigue. Patients with ARVD are usually

treated with medications that help prevent arrhythmias and sudden death. If these medications

don’t seem to work, there’s a procedure known as an ablation in which the abnormal spots that

are causing the arrhythmias are burned off. This is not always successful, and is usually only a

temporary cure as the spots can come back. Patients that are thought to be at risk for sudden

death usually get treated with an Implantable Cardioverter Defibrillator. This is a small battery

operated device implanted in the chest that will send electrical pulses or shocks to help control

life threatening arrhythmias.

            Although I’m told by my cardiologist that they’ve done everything they could, and that

it’s time to think about an ICD, I’m not sure if I want to go through with it. Sure, it’s to protect

me and save my life if ever necessary but what if it never comes to that? Do I really want to go

through another surgery? Do I really want a scar on my chest for the rest of my life? What

about all the complications that come along with an ICD? Is it worth it?

 I guess it is worth it, I’ll just have to deal with the inconveniences, restrictions, and

hospital visits it brings because if some day I go into cardiac arrest, I’ll still have my life. I’m

going to tell my mother and my  cardiologist that I’ve decided to go through with it and get the

device. We have set up an appointment at Dartmouth Hitchcock Lebanon to undergo the

procedure on November 16, 2011.

            Time goes by and November 16^th rolls around. I get packed up for a two night stay and

get in the car with my family to drive two hours away to the hospital. I’m about to feel the

 worst pain I’ve ever had to feel in my life and I’m nervous. Not only is it going to be painful,

but there are so many restrictions after surgery. For six weeks I won’t be able to lift my right

arm above my head, or carry anything heavier than a gallon of milk for risk that the wire

running from the device to my heart might come unattached. I won’t be able to drive, I won’t

be able to work, and I won’t even be able to carry my own backpack to class. This will be a very

challenging six weeks for me, but at least everything will be back to normal after that.

           

The surgery is done and I’m in more pain than I have ever been in, and the scar is bigger

 than I was told it would be. It’s not attractive whatsoever and it’s going to be an annoyance to

explain what the scar is every time someone asks.  There’s a bulge where the device is but I’m

hoping it’s mostly swelling and will go  away with time. The doctor’s gave me some papers

about ICD’s to read and there’s a lot more in here than what I was told about. “When you have

an ICD, it is important to avoid electrical devices that can stop your ICD from working right.

Check with your doctor about what you need to stay away from, what you need to use with

care and what is okay to use. You will need to stay away from things with strong electrical fields

such as MRI machines, welding equipment, and power generators. You can use a cell phone,

but keep it at least 6 inches away from your device. You can use most household appliances

 safely.” Really? I have to keep my phone away 6 inches from my chest at all times? Can I even

go tanning anymore? What about microwaves and metal detectors?

 My cardiologist has some answers for me. He’s not sure If I’ll be able to tan anymore

but he doesn’t suggest it anyways because the scar won’t tan the same color. He wants me

to leave the room if someone is using a microwave and if I want to use one myself he advises to
have someone else do it for me. He also tells me the worst news I’ve heard all day: The battery

life of an ICD is about 7 years. This means I’ll be going through all of this again! I’ll probably  go

through this surgery 6-8 more times in my life.

            It hasn’t even been a whole three months since the surgery and I’ve been in the

 emergency room several times because of the device. I’ve been getting unbearable sharp pains

where the device was implanted and I’ve even been shocked when I shouldn’t have been, five

times in a row. So far, the ICD has done more wrong than it has done right but I’m hoping all of

the complications and restrictions will be worth it if it ever comes time for the defibrillator to

do its job and save my precious life.

Material isn't Everything.

            I was spoiled as a child. Although my family was far from wealthy my dad seemed to get my sisters and I everything we wanted. We were all about materialistic things and didn’t know what it was like to not be able to have the things we wanted. We always had the latest and greatest toys. The big doll houses and the life size Barbies. We were living the dream and took it for granted. We weren’t very appreciative, nor did we take into consideration what he went through to get us those toys.

            I believe that money and materialistic things blind people making them unable to see what is really important in life. When you’re fortunate enough to get the things you want when you want it, you’re apt to take the little things for granted and worry more about what you want to buy next. That’s not how life is should be lived. Money and material should not be the center of somebody’s life, nor should it be what makes a person happy.

            Growing up I took my Dad for granted. I loved all the things he bought me, but never realized what he had to go through to buy those things. What I didn’t understand was everything he bought costs money which was something my parents didn’t have much of. While my mother was always complaining about money, he would pick up extra shifts at work and find a second job during the holiday season just to be able to make our wishes come true. He made sure Santa brought us everything that was on our Christmas list, but that’s what we expected.  As bad as it may seem, if I asked my mom for something and she said no, I would go straight to my Dad knowing he would get it for me. I understand now that he did all this just to see his little girls smile. He thought if he said no, we would be upset which was the last thing he wanted. I wish I could have understood that then and thanked him for everything he did.

I was blinded by materialistic things and it made me take my Dad for granted.  I regret it immensely till this day. I wish I was able to see what was important which would have been spending quality time with him rather than worry about the next toy he was going to buy me.