Grounded and Immobilized

I celebrated my 72nd birthday a couple of weeks ago, and I really got a big surprise on that day that had nothing to do with presents.

I had a singing engagement with the chorus that evening, so I dressed in full tuxedo with red vest and green tie—very Christmassy—and was preparing to drive to the venue.

Sitting in my car with the key in the ignition, my vision suddenly went blurry and I got very lightheaded. Within a few seconds, and with no warning whatsoever, I felt a jolt in my left shoulder that literally knocked me back into my seat. Just as suddenly, I was again clearheaded and really alert.

I knew exactly what had happened, but not the reason why it had occurred. My ICD defibrillator had given me what is termed “a therapy.” It is supposed to give me a warning before it activates in the form of a series of beeps. On this occasion it took action so fast that the warning was overridden.

Needless to say, I didn’t go to my engagement that evening, and I was on the phone to my cardiologist that following morning. We did a remote data dump—one of the wonders of modern technology—to determine that my heart was performing normally again, and scheduled an office appointment.

I won’t bore you with details, but the end result is that I am forbidden to drive for six months. For at least that length of time I will be dependent on others to transport me to whatever functions and errands I have to attend.

For a person who loves to travel this is like a prison sentence. There are several activities that I will just have to give up, such as my weekly Spanish class. Other people will have to take me to necessary appointments.

My choral activities present a particular problem, since my wife is not a fan. I cannot expect her to attend rehearsals or performances with me, nor can I call on her to drive me to board and committee meetings. I can foresee some real issues with that part of my life.

Try as I may, I’m having a difficult time keeping my spirits up, and I really appreciate the burden I’m placing on other people to chauffeur me around. Now my hope is that I will get a reprieve after the mandatory six months.

I know that my ICD has proven its worth with this one therapy, but I certainly hope it doesn’t have occasion to repeat the performance, because that will probably ground me permanently—still a better solution than the alternative “grounding”.