🎶My Neck, My Back, My Mini Heart Attack🎶

Good morning, kats and kittens!
Today is the day of my 2nd “procedure”.
Relax. They are just going to stick 3 needles in my spinal nerves.
Funny story; I was awake for the 1st “procedure”. Unbeknownst to me, you have to not eat or drink for 8 hours prior to receiving anesthesia. I hadn’t had anything for 6 hours prior, but No, No, the magic number is 8.
So, they gave me the option to either reschedule or super woman it out.
Me being me, I said, “Bring it on!”.
I about flew off that table like super woman!
Today I have opted to not eat or drink for 8 hours prior.
Hmm… I guess that story wasn’t really that funny, but I know it was entertaining.

The cut off point was literally 2 minutes ago. I spent those precious last minutes walking my dog. She insisted that she had to go at that exact moment, and gave 0 shits that I hadn’t finished my breakfast.
I fully intend to write a blog post about my dog. She absolutely deserves a blog post dedicated solely about her.
I just now decided that that shall be tomorrow’s blog.
Today is about me.

So, back to ME!
I honestly don’t have many friends. Tons of acquaintances, but friends, nuh uh.
I have maybe 5 people I consider real friends, and unfortunately for me, they live all over this friggin country!
Seriously, guys! Let’s all just go in together on a big piece of property and start our own commune.
We can raise pigmy goats and make our own pesticide free granola.
Where was I going with that… Oh yeah! Friends.
So, I have 1 friend who offered to drive me to and from my procedure. He works, like most “normies” do, so I decided to ask my neighbor to drive me.
I live in a retirement community, thusly my neighbor is retired-ish. He still mows lawns for extra income, but today It Gon Rain!

I just reread all that and noticed I say So a lot.
That is how I speak in real life, so… deal wit it.

Back to my back.
I have to have a total of 3 of these specific procedures done before insurance will cover the actual Procedure, which is called an ablation.
For those of you curious as to what an ablation is I’m about to drop some knowledge on your ass.

Radiofrequency ablation, also called rhizotomy, is a nonsurgical, minimally invasive procedure that uses heat to reduce or stop the transmission of pain. Radiofrequency waves ablate, or “burn,” the nerve that is causing the pain, essentially eliminating the transmission of pain signals to the brain.

Thank you Google for making me sound intelligent for a moment.
Now back to our regularly scheduled idiot-syncrasies.

I have had an ablation of the heart before. That particular experience was not pleasant.
I think I’m going to share that story with you. Not only is the story humorous, it was also very traumatic for me, so I feel compelled to share.

It began long ago, in a little town far far away, (Like 2.5 hrs away).
I had what is called Supra Ventricular Tachycardia. That is where your heart creates an improper loop of sorts. When my heart beat got caught in this loop, it would beat up to 200 beats per minute.
I hate to break it to you all with panic attacks who believe you can relate to that particular experience but panic attacks, which I get sometimes and which have lasted me 9 hours before, only get up to about 115-120 beats per minute.
I only use that as an example, not to diminish the severity of a panic attack, but to give you an idea of what 200 beats per minute feels like.
I would have to go to the Emergency Room and they would have to stop and restart my heart via injections to get my heart out of that loop.
Now that you all are on the same page as me, let’s move on to the humorous parts.

So, I get there for the procedure and they bring me back into the surgery room. I am completely nakkid at this point. They move me onto the table, proceeded to add restraints to my wrists and ankles, and then had the audacity to shave my pubes into a mow hawk!
At first I thought it was for their own amusement, but found out later that it was to prep the area for the surgery.
I know you all must be thinking, “How does her pubic area have anything to do with her heart?”.
Well, that is where the blah, blah, blah vein in your groin starts and leads up to your heart.
So anyways, here I am, restrained and now with a pube mow hawk, trying to figure out my plan of escape.
I tested the restraints and they would not budge.
I then tested the restraints more vigorously and still they would not budge.
My fear soon became known to the surgical staff, who then kindly offered to play me whatever music I wanted. I chose Rasputina. This part will come back later in the story.
They turned on Rasputina, set the phone playing the music as far away from me as humanly possible, and disappeared once more.
I should state at this point that we were ALL waiting on the surgeon, who ended up being 2 hours late for the surgery.
The surgeon eventually arrived and it was immediately, “Let’s get this show on the road”.
They gave me 50ccs of fentanyl, so as to relax me, but not enough to knock me out, because; you see, Doctors are sadists at heart.
He then made an incision in my groin.
I said, “I can feel that”, to which the doctor replied, “50ccs of fentanyl.”
He then inserted the catheter into my vein and began to lead it to my heart.
I said, “I can feel that.”
This time the doctor’s response was more of a challenging statement then a concerned one.
“No you can’t.” Was his response.
Challenge accepted.
My response was, “Dude, I can feel myself bleeding every time you push that thing further up my vein”.
This shocked and awed him as he had never witnessed a patient on 100ccs of fentanyl being able to feel much of anything. I could tell he was a little impressed by this as his next response was, “50ccs of fentanyl”.
Honestly, at this point, I was feeling a bit more shall we say “relaxed”.
That is until he started zapping my heart.
I will hand it to the guy, he found the improper loop right away.
The zap triggered my heart into the 200 beat per minute loop.
I feel my next response was totally warranted and not dramatic at all.
I yelled at the top of my lungs, “My Heart!!!”, and started testing the restraints once more, only this time it was out of extreme panic, so I was a bit more successful.
I was able to get one wrist free before the doctor yelled, “50ccs of fentanyl!!!”.
After that it was lights out.

Not sure how long after, but I was awoken from my heavily induced fentanyl coma by a sweet nurse who asked me if I wanted anything.
“Coffee”, was all I managed to say.
“Cream, sugar?”, she asked.
“Lots of cream.”, I replied.
She was back in what seemed like an instant. She handed me my coffee, with lots of cream, and gave me a huge smile.
I greedily took 3 huge gulps.
What happened next was a bit of a shock to myself and the nurse.
I totally Exorsist style, projectile vomited the coffee across the room.
To my memory, this is about the time my dad walked in and said,

“The staff wanted me to know you have a very “interesting” taste in music.”

One more thing I would like you all to know before I concluded this story is this all took place on Valentines Day.
Oh, the irony is just delicious!

I am confident that the spinal ablation will go a lot more smoothly, at least from what I’ve read about it, but this is ME we are talking about, after all.