DAY 3: An unwelcomed guest...

Well I now know what an acute atrial fibrillation feels like. We spent all day (from morning until about 6pm) trying to quiet a racing and abnormal heartbeat in my chest. I felt some anxiety yesterday, as I was getting the Rituxan, and figured it would pass. When I woke up this morning feeling an erradic punching in my chest, I knew something wasn't quite right. I told a nurse tech in passing that it felt like I had an aggressive and awkward heartbeat. She reacted by telling the nurse, who quickly told the hemato-oncologist who is covering me in the absence of Dr. Flowers this week. She came in and took a listen with her stethoscope and immediately said it was most likely an atrial fibrillation http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Atrial_fibrillation).

They quickly called in a team of cardiologists who performed an EKG which revealed an elevated heart rate (~140 bpm) and a severe atrial fibrillation which meant that the top part of my heart was not consistently pumping blood into the lower half, which would lead to blood clotting and increased discomfort if left unattended. They also called in a radiologist to x-ray my port catheter to ensure that it was not interfering with the walls of my heart. (They ended up seeing that the catheter was too close for comfort, but since I have a port-a-cath, the catheter length is fixed and could not be shortened). The goal became to trigger a cardioversion, either electronically or chemically, whereby they would shock the heart with the hope of getting it back into proper rhythym. First, they had to slow the pulse which was accomplished by two oral pills, one a beta blocker and another a calcium channel blocker. Once the pulse came down, the team decided to try a chemical cardioversion which would take place by injecting a 500ml bolus of ibutilide directly into my heart to try to shock it back. This was preceded by a dose of heparin, a blood thinner, as we didn't want any clots that may have formed to be disloged. With a team of 3 cardiologists and 5 oncology nurses in the room, the moment of truth came. I was pretty stressed out, to be honest. I just clutched a small crucifix and told myself over and over that Jesus is the Prince of Peace and that He was right here in the room with us. The cardiologist was wathcing the heart monitor as he injected the solution and we were nearly compete-- yet the fibrillation persisted. Once he pushed in the very last drop, the fibrillation ceased and we reverted to a normal, stable heart rate. I was so grateful. The heparin will continue for another 48 hours. I have 5 wires attached to my chest that are sending telemetry data a few floors away for remote monitoring. I must say, it does feel great to have a pulse around 70 and no knocking under the hood.

I think I must've held my breath the entire day. It was pretty stressful. I was thankful for a team of knowledgeable Emory staff, and also some very kind guests who came to wish me well throughout the long day.

In the morning, before all of this unfolded, I had a tender moment where I put on my iPod and listened to a song called 'Cry Out to Jesus' by a band of a dear friend of mine. Like clockwork, the tears flowed copiously and I was literally doing as the song called me to do. It was a healing moment over which I had no control. I stared intently at this little crucifix I have been clutching this week and realized at that very moment just how much I love Jesus. Not because of the depth of my need for him in that moment of crisis, but more so out of a realization of just how much He has already done in love for me, for you, for those who have preceded us, and for those yet to come to Him. His promises will never come up empty.

The truth of who He is has become more real to me than gravity. More real that night following day, and day following night. I've said this before, but I will reiterate it again: life will never be the same for me. I've come to know my savior with an intimacy that I've never known possible. He is everything to me. I love Jesus, my Lord, my Creator -- the Creator of the universe -- with every ounce of my being.

Thanks for reading. Today was rough, but in the end I'd call it a landslide victory.