Well, it turns out that Diet Coke is not trying to destroy me, after all.
It’s my DNA, that fiendish double helix.
I talked to my mom for a while today, and she told me that heart arrhythmia runs in the family. Both she and her sister experienced different types of it, and they both eventually had to have a surgery called Something Something Ablation (that’s the technical term, of course) to take care of it. My mom’s arrhythmia was progressive, with her first and second attacks coming a year apart, and I’m experiencing a second one right now, which is a little concerning.
So it looks like I’m going to be following up on this at the cardiologist’s office. Hopefully my little chest-dwelling chihuahua will be in a showing off mood so he (the cardiologist, not the chihuahua) can figure out exactly what’s going on.
I’ll keep you posted*.
Please pray for me, friends!
*But not in that long-winded, annoying way of people who love nothing more than to give you a non-stop rundown of their health problems every time you see them. I’ll try to keep it brief, i.e. “Update: feeling better today.” “Update: palpitating. Should probably bail on this afternoon’s spinning class.” “Update: I’m coming, Elizabeth!” (Thanks to Alyson for supplying these timely and appropriate last words. I hadn’t given it much thought, but it never hurts to be prepared. Please submit any other suggestions for last words in the comments.)