Appointment at the cardiologist was pretty uneventful. Dr. Mendelson seemed surprised I’m doing so well with such a diverse and staggering quantity of heart defects. She asked me a couple times who referred me, and why I was there, but my answer never wavered: I want a Cardiologist familiar with, and who has seen many other adult congenital heart patients. And here’s the funny part: she more than proved my point.
Luna is back from the vet, and she’s been diagnosed with severe hypertrophic cardiomyopathy. Her left ventricle is enlarged and there was a clot forming in her left atrium. She’s been prescribed Lasix, Enalapril (what I take, ironically enough), Plavix, and Aspirin. Basically, they’re throwing everything they have at her in an effort to keep her from forming clots, ease her heart’s workload, and clear any fluid that backs up into her lungs.
Luna is spending the night at an animal hospital tonight.
When I got home from work on Monday, Luna didn’t greet me with her usual persistent demand to sit on my lap. In fact, she looked rather miserable sprawled on a plastic shopping bag. A couple hours later, she relocated to the corner behind the toilet. Since then, she has wandered about the apartment as though addled, refraining from eating or drinking.
Well, I found out why I’m hitting a wall with my DDR skills, and why I simply can’t do hard 10-footers or the nasty level 11s, 12s, and 13s of ITG. I long believed this to be the case, but I ran into a study by the American Heart Association that specifically covers patients with a corrected transposition by the Mustard procedure, congenitally corrected transposition, and a similar group having undergone a revised Fontan.
Not sure how I forgot to post this, but last Friday, I went to local TLC Laser Eye Center and practically got laughed out of the office. Their multi-million dollar machinery couldn’t even diagnose my prescription because it was too high. You’d think if a company manufactured something worth several million dollars, they’d go for broke and design the thing to recognize some patently absurd level seen only in Mr. Magoo or possibly a blind mole rat.
