Back home but with Demons!

   So I am now home from my little excursion to the house of pain. They left all the little sticky snaps on me, and OMG! What kind of super glue do they use on those things?  They peel a layer of skin off when you take them off. Not to mention, what kind of sadistic people do not shave the hair off before sticking them on you? Is there a real need to have 23 of them stuck on your chest and abdomen? I think they are evil people, so we went to the store to get my prescription filled. Three months of Sotalol for $20.00 without the insurance is not a bad price, I can live with that. The stuff slows you down bigger than life however, and I thought the Metoprolol was bad. With the Metoprolol, a 20 yard walk to the car seemed like a mile. Now with the Sotalol, a 20 yard walk seems like weeks. I don't think I am going to make it back to the car without a nap or two. Yes I do nap quite often now that I am on the Sotalol, along with the Metoprolol and the low dose Aspirin. I almost forgot, Prozac as well as a Flintstones vitamin, yes the chewables. So that is what my breakfast consists of every day. 80mg Sotalol, 12.5mg Metoprolol, Prozac, Aspirin and a Flintstones chewable vitamin. Yummmm, its like bacon and eggs! OK I lied, its like cardboard and chalk for breakfast every day. But it does keep my ICD at a distance so far. I have to have labs done every 6 months because the Sotalol is very hard on the liver.

   After taking my pills it is time for me to shower and get ready for the day. OK, I suppose I will need to get up earlier now as I spend 45 minutes on the crapper now. This is one of the fantastic side effects that I was certainly happier without. I used to be regular any way, but 4 am is stupid I think. I can set my watch by it, and I still do not understand why it takes 45 minutes first thing in the morning. Aside from that, the nightmares are worse than before. A lot worse, I can even have the nightmares while I am in the middle of doing something. Again its like being in the theater, Extremely loud and in Hi Definition. My mind is super sensitive to my heart rate and it makes me panic often. I have difficulties doing the simplest of things, as I stated before and it is all because of my mind. I cant tell if I am in reality or in a dream, it is that vivid. I have to learn how to get this under control, maybe I have lost my mind! Ventricular Fibrillation is no joke!, it is deadly serious and it comes out of nowhere and tries to kill you. Most of the time it succeeds, if IT doesn't you get the nifty Implantable Cardiac Defibrillator will. I know electronics and other man made things are definitely flawed, but I wish they would have these a little more refined. My Doc really wants me to see a psychiatrist now to help me with the PTSD. 

     

   I am not made of money, and I don't quite understand how a lot of people can go see a Dr. over every little thing. I have never had that luxury, and now its being forced upon me. Well Doc, I am fresh out of $50.00 co pays! Daammmmitttt! So the General health Doc, and the phone Psychiatrist keep suggesting that I get a dog. They said a dog would help calm me down and get me through the PTSD moments. I think PTSD Attacks is more appropriate. I cant even walk a few blocks to the in-laws house as I think my heart will explode. But I sure can eat a bunch of Popsicle's! They help keep the sweats to a minimum. I find out my sister has a couple of puppies that she would like to keep together if at all possible. They are Boston Terrier Miniature Pincer mix. One is the runt and had to be cared for by hand and the other is normal size. I finally ask the wife and she agrees to one. And in my infinite wisdom I committed to both. Two is better than one! Right?!  So the day comes when the arrive on a plane from Texas with my Sister Tara and her family. They are so cute and they are so small. I am normally a big dog kind of guy, but what the heck. So my wife only stays mad at me for a couple of days, and she wasn't too mad because they do make me smile. I am able to sleep better almost immediately. 

   So Toph, the black pup, and Agnes the brindle color are the little ladies that are to help me through my PTSD. They are almost always on me when I am home. They greet me with excitement, and they even wait at the bottom of the stairs and cry for me to come back. When they are on me I can sleep pretty well, and they can tell when I am having a bad dream and they know how to give that nudge to make me feel better. I know for some reason that it is only a dream when they are with me. The big problem with them is they are so excited when we try to have them sleep with us a night they cant lay down. So they have their own accommodations at night. They are wonderful dogs, they are about half the size of my cats and they have their own personalities. I call the black one Foody most of the time because she is always trying to mooch food. The brindle one I swear has brain damage, so we call her Noodle most of the time. They are incredibly special animals to me. The comfort they provide is beyond expression, and has been worth every minute of aggravating training we have been through. 

   So the pups coupled with some hobbies, like making Giraffe, Pig and other assorted mailboxes and bird houses have really forced my mind to back off. I am finding it easier to cope with the day to day routine and easier to cope with the bad dreams as well. They are still frequent, but I am at a point where I can tell reality from dreams now, and when it is really bad I can always go downstairs and play with my pups. I have done this often and am grateful they are there. The problems with people still remain however. There is a certain stigma that goes hand in hand with an "illness" and people do in fact treat you different. Some treat you better then they ever had before, but most treat you like you are diseased. Its like they are afraid that they can catch it. Yes, in light of this I have wished it on several people. Some claim to be your friends and then they run and stab you in the back over every little thing they can think of. Its gone to the point that my work has become a burden to me, and I dread going in every day. It physically makes me ill to know I have to go in and take the snide remarks and comments, and I can feel the eyes upon me every moment I am with those I work with. It is quite unnerving, and I hate the prying eyes. I know since I have returned to work that I am a liability to the shop, and it is only a matter of time before they find something to be able to kick me to the curb. I do not have many personal relationships outside of work, and I am unable to speak with my wife about this, as it will make her worry. Seconds seem like hours at the shop, I do enjoy what I do but I am so cautious of not screwing up it becomes inevitable. All of this is brought on because of an electrical malfunction in my heart. It is beyond my control and I will try my best until they find a way to relieve me of my position. The stress is not good for me..

 Ha ha ha! I wonder if these really work? I need a few! They are probably like a stress ball, they make you feel better because you can imagine you are poking someone who has pissed you off or stressed you out! Well it has been one year and a couple of weeks since my last trip to the ER. I have not had any episodes since then, and I am still terrified of when it happens again. I am doing plenty of exercise, and I am staying hydrated and trying to remain stress free. There is a lot more to blog about with my experiences. There are things to say about how I feel, and how I react to things and there is a lot more information on ICD's and Pace makers to be shared. I will continue to post about my experiences and try to let you all in on what I go through. If this even helps one person become more comfortable with their device it is worth the effort it takes. 

 Keep Coming back! There is really a wealth of useful and useless information to come!