Dancing to a Different Beat

So a few weeks ago I was in Chicago. It seemed like a nice city. I was there for a conference for work. And as I got off the plane with my coworkers, I noticed that my breathing seemed a bit labored. Mmm. So I took out the trusty inhaler.

I didn't notice much of an improvement. But I lugged my luggage (hah.. I wonder if that's where the word luggage came from..) to the rental car shuttle. I drove the frighteningly big SUV (that I got care of all the free upgrades) into the city, parked the massive thing in the garage, sat through orientation and got to dinner--all the while thinking--my lungs don't seem to be working properly.

Calling my mom, she advised to take my inhaler, drink fluids and see if it's better in the morning--and if not--"get yourself to an emergency room". Ok...that doesn't sound like fun.

But the next morning, despite having slept fine (and having avoided serious injury after slipping on the ridiculously slick bathroom floor in the dorm I was staying in) the breathing problem was worse. And when I tried to multitask--like sing and stand up and breathe--well.. I was rewarded with lightheadedness and slight palpitations. Needless to say, this was not normal.

But what to do? I'm at a strange college, in a strange city--and my coworkers are off giving seminars. A woman who was also there for the conference stopped to talk to me about something else, and when I imparted to her that I was having a bit of a time breathing, she prayed with me--and then she talked to the administration desk and found that there was a group of students who volunteer to take people to the hospital when they need it. So my new friend arranged for them to come get me.

Then this young guy shows up and takes us through the city at a break neck pace (if I wasn't already having breathing issues, I might have developed them) and eventually got us to the ER at Northwestern Memorial Hospital. My friend stayed with me until they got my name at the desk and then she left. It wasn't long until they took me aside for triage..and I got a red sticker. (which means I'm the most urgent of cases, which is slightly alarming and comforting at the same time).

They called my name soon after and took me upstairs to a pretty nice little room.
"you can put on this gown--take off everything to the waist..." which is easily done.. but trying to tie the dumb gown at the back while having shortness of breath? Not so much. I finally asked the nurse if she could help me out..which I seriously don't think I should have to ask.. but alas.. what can you do?

So after she grilled me about my asthma habits, I finally imparted the information that it really didn't feel like my normal asthma and there was pressure in my chest...so she put me on a heart monitor. And that's when the show started.

Apparently my heart was going from 85 beats a minute.. to 185 beats per minute. I had doctors in my room pretty quick after that. They told me they were going to try and figure it out. I felt like I was on an episode of "House" except less witty dialogue.

They did all kind of fun and not so fun tests. Gave me drugs (I mean meds) At one point I was hooked up to so many things--two IV tubes, a heart monitor, a blood pressure cuff, a pulse-ox cord..it was quite an ordeal just to go three feet to the bathroom, I can tell you.

They told me my potassium was low, so they were going to give me some--but apparently potassium is caustic, so they had to dilute it--I kept trying to tell them that they could have just fed me some bananas. I mean--they're rich in potassium and they would serve another purpose--I was starving..

Anywho..the checked everything--no blood clot in my lung...no hyperactive thyroid...no drugs in my system (apparently cocaine could have caused it)...and nothing wrong with the function of my heart (I should know, I got to watch it on the screen)

Turns out some of the signals in your heart can just go wacky... and send the wrong signals and cause your heart to beat irregularly. So I got to spend the night in the hospital (not reccommended) and eat really bad food (and have the food lady yell at me) just for them to tell me that it's one of those weird things that don't have any root cause, they just happen.

SO they told me to go straight home (much to my mother's relief who was going crazy back in PA; and much to my chagrin since I had planned on visiting friends) and go see an Electrophysiology Cardiologist and ask him what to do...apparently there's a procedure they can do, to go in and zap it. (sounds official, doesn't it?) But our guy back in Philly (one of these specialists actually goes to my church) gave me some meds first and I've been fine.

Just like that. So anyway...most of you know this particular misadventure already.. but for posterity. It was quite an ordeal--but I've been trying to process why God does stuff like this, you know? Minor irritations, really. Maybe it's to remind me that I can't do everything on my own--to ask for help more often.

But mainly I think it's just for me to trust God that he knows best. Even when things seem all out of sync.