I do not want to over-dramatise things by saying this has been the worst month of my life as it would be an insult to the memory of my dear mother and my beloved nephew Jason and niece Tammy.
However it has been an absolutely horrendous year so far health-wise and my cycling career has had to be ended prematurely by the post-traumatic stress caused by a recent ‘accident’.
I was cycling to Crawley Hospital on the morning of 11 August to have a heart rate monitor fitted to record the Supra Ventricular Tachycardia I was diagnosed with a while back with a view to ablation.
I almost made it but was hit from behind on the dual carriageway near the hospital and suffered multiple fractures, some of which were displaced - so annoyingly painful and tricky to repair.
The good news is my ablation op was postponed until last Friday 9th September and although they were reluctant to perform the procedure due to doubt about my ability to lie flat on an operating table for several hours with broken bones whilst having catheters inserted into my heart, the magic man, Dr Gandhi, agreed to give it a go.
Dr Gandhi, Tom, Sam and the rest of his team were brilliant. They made me as comfortable as possible before commencing and the whole operation was like a well-oiled machine. They simulated (stimulated in this instance works perfectly as well) my tachycardia by infusing adrenalin into my veins and waited until my SVTs began. Fortunately this worked like a dream and Dr Gandhi found the offending area of my heart in less than an hour and immediately informed me. The team then took down the catheter through the main artery in my groin and replaced it with the ablation wire. It is a strange feeling as you lie there and sense the confidence of the crew although knowing the risks of the operation. I must admit I was forearmed with numerous family and friends praying for me and felt totally confident of a successful outcome, although naturally a little apprehensive of failure.
Ironically, I only plucked up the courage to have the op as I wanted to have one final fling on my bike as I have not done myself justice in recent years due to the onset of what I call ‘palpitations’. Subsequently of course I have decided to sell my bikes and give up cycling as I have been left traumatised by the events of 11 August as I really feel I should not have walked away from such an horrific accident. When the police informed me of the damage to the lady’s car last week it really made me think even more how lucky I was. My bike is apparently almost unmarked and yet her windows were smashed on the side closest to the kerb and her wing mirror was knocked off and smashed and the side panels were scratched and dented. This means I must have absorbed much of the impact myself! Apparently she saw me (well I was wearing bright luminous yellow Asic cycling clothes from top to toe), indicated to overtake me but then found she could not complete the manoeuvre because of traffic in the fast lane and cut back in. All I know is I thought I was a goner and expected to see my brains splattered all over the highway. Shoulder, Collarbone, Hip and Finger injury seems a small price to pay although the collarbone is displaced in four areas and is a work in progress at the moment.
It was an absolute work of art how the cardiac team not only found the area of the heart to zap but also synchronised the timing to ensure the most effective job possible. It took time to co-ordinate but when they finally moved in with all guns blazing their action was swift and sure.
“I’ve got it Trevor” was music to my ears, as Dr Gandhi explained he had burnt that offending piece of my heart (the sinus node) that had caused me so much grief since birth. Yes Dr Gandhi was quick to tell me that I have had the problem since birth (57 years) and now it was gone. All my young years of feeling less than normal as I had to drag myself off cricket pitches or away from playing children. All my teenage years when I gained a reputation of either winning races or dropping out. All my recent years when I have held up my cycling team as I lay prone on the ground desperately trying to shock my heart into its regular rhythm.
All those times that blighted my life in secret denial of being different from others - now gone - hopefully forever.
I felt euphoric of course and I can vouch that the team seemed equally pleased that it all came together so well.
I have to admit the next 24 hours were a little grim as I found it impossible to sleep in the hospital bed as my heart was thumping all night and by the morning I was in a right state and repeatedly had to walk out of the hospital as anxiety took over. Fortunately the friend who picked me up from the Royal Sussex the next day was given a paper “what to expect post-op” and also the registrar came down to the ward to explain to me that it was perfectly normal for the thudding beats to get worse than ever for up to three months before the new rhythm settles. This was music to my ears and made me feel much better about my predicament – and even as I write this blog the sainted Dr Gandhi has just telephoned me to enquire as to my health and implored me to take it easy as he knows I am a very active man. Fortunately I have no choice anyway until my bones heal.
It is truly an awe-inspiring feeling to have had a problem that at various times in my life had impinged on my enjoyment to the point that I had to give up my schools running career and then my cycling career earlier this year – and now it is more than likely to have gone. It actually seems too good to be true which is why the mind plays these tricks and you actually find yourself doing all the stressful things that induced the SVTs in the first place, only now it is impossible for them to occur.
I’ve sometimes, very unfairly, been called a genius when in fact I have no skills at all to mention, but a man like Dr Gandhi has a skill honed and perfected across 14 years – a skill that literally can change the quality of life of a poor undeserving wretch such as myself – this is genius.
Even the month of pain and agony I have suffered pales into insignificance today as I lay on my bed with hope of a brighter future without the inconvenience of having to bear the cross of fear of attack.
To be honest, even if I were to be among those small minority of people who sometimes found their symptoms return (I somehow feel confident I shall not be) I know that the team performed their best and I would come to terms with that horror in the full knowledge that all these things are for a reason.
I felt humbled too today as one of my partners in crime on the cardiac ward is having to have a triple bypass next Tuesday, another has had heart attacks due to post-traumatic stress following a stabbing six years ago, and yet another cannot have a pace-maker fitted as this procedure does not work on the left atrial valve so he is effectively just praying not to have further attacks.
All these men are great men with stories I cannot go into here without their permission but stories none the less that made us all bond and all realise that we are all in this life together for better or for worse. We laughed and joked and generally made light of our predicaments. We knew that some of us would have better outcomes than others. For God’s sake two of these men had already suffered far more than lesser men could stand.
Love is all there is – there is nothing more
