I felt rather weird yesterday afternoon. It may have started in the morning when we are on a short walk with Molly the Dog, but I particularly noticed after lunch. It was an odd sensation in my chest.
Being a fat chap of a certain age, I don’t welcome odd sensations in my chest. Also, being especially vulnerable (or so the government tells me, so it is almost certainly a lie) to COVID-19, I reached for my trusty oximeter to check that my oxygen levels were satisfactory. They seemed to be where they ought to be (>95%) but what on earth was my pulse doing? Pump-wobble-wobble-wobble-pump-wibble-pump-pause-pump-wobble... That didn’t look right. I found my pulse in my wrist and my left forefinger confirmed what my right wrist was telling it. A worryingly uneven pulse.
I dialled 111 and after delays, recorded announcements etc. I got through to a human and after a fair few questions I was to hie me to A & E pdq. A bit of a physically distanced queue outside, then I was given the once over and a few questions by a nurse, admitted to a waiting room and after an acceptable short wait, was seen by another nurse who shaved a couple of small patches on my chest and gave me an ecg. I was subsequently wheeled into a cubicle where some young chap fitted a cannula and relieved me of a handful of blood. Another ecg, a doctor came to natter, the machine reported that my pulse was 129 beats per minute and then someone else infused some drug into my left arm and within a few minutes my pulse was ticking along quite nicely at about 75 bpm.
I was twice taken to x-ray without an X-ray being done (boring mistakes by two people) I was tested for COVID-19 (that was unpleasant) and was then transferred to the Clinical Decisions Unit to await a clinical decision.
When it came the decision was that I have atrial fibrillation. I must now start on some new drugs to thin my blood and control my heart rate. Life’s rich tapestry...