The Linq Procedure for Arrhythmia: Another Half Naked Patient Story

It is done. I am Wi-fi equipped. No, literally. My chest has wi-fi. Today Dr. Grogin implanted a Linq heart monitor into my chest.

That’s right. I got to go through just one more heart patient embarrassment.

Let me set the scene for you.

#1. About 5 nurses and 1 doctor in the room

#2. I was naked down to my waist.

#3. They had to cover my face with a cloth because the procedure was just below my neck, and the area had to be sterile.

#4. I was totally in my right mind. Only local anesthesia, because that’s how I asked to do it.

I know you think that as I lay there, blindfolded and half-naked, that I was thinking, “Oh, I am so going to blog about this.”

But not really. I was actually thinking things like:

“This cloth covering my face is smothering me. I should have let them sedate me.”

and

“Oh, I’m freezing. When will this be over?”

and

“I am so naked. I am so naked.”

As you may or may not know, I’ve been having strange heart-pounding and roller-coaster-like heart cartwheels since January. Through much testing, we found out that it’s ventricular tachycardia episodes, but otherwise my heart is structurally fine.

At first, my favorite doctor, PA Carlquist, thought that I would need an ablation, but then Dr. Grogin decided against it. Instead, he wanted to implant a Linq heart monitor into my chest. This thing goes right under my skin and can last up to three years. This should give them more information on what my heart is doing.

I joke that I have Wi-Fi because the thing communicates with a little data base I keep by my bed that sends reports to Dr. Grogin. Fascinating, really. I’d never heard of these until this year. But then, I’d never even heard of ventricular tachycardia until this year either. Medical professional I am clearly not.

I decided to do the procedure, which is very quick and easy, unsedated because I really don’t like feeling woozy-headed, especially considering that I’m going to my boys’ AWANA awards program tonight. I’d like to be firing from all thrusters while I obsessively take their pictures and beam with pride.

But don’t worry. They gave me lots and lots of local anesthetic. I even told them, “Remember, I’m a red-head, so feel free to give me plenty. It takes a lot.”

I can’t explain it, but it’s true. It takes a lot of drug for me. They were nice. They gave me lots.

I think this Linq monitor is going to be a good course of action. In fact, while I was in the hospital today, the EKG machine went off two different times and said “Pair of PVCs”. Of course, you know I came home and googled what the heck a PVC is. It’s basically the same thing as ventricular tachycardia, just far less serious because it’s only one or two beats. It’s like 2 ventricular beats being off instead of 6, and it is actually very common, whereas v-tach is rare. But it’s not surprising that I would have these, since I’ve had V-tach.

I have learned so much about hearts this year. 2016 has been a serious drag, but it’s all okay because April is going home. The South is calling my name. And every time I start to feel down, I just remind myself, “Self, we are going home. And this will be nothing more than the past, my own strange time in the land of Oz.”

There’s no place like home. There’s no place like home. There’s no place like home. C’mon, Toto, only 6 more weeks! I’m clicking my ruby-red slippers with excitement!

For more updates on how the Linq experience went for me over the three years that I wore it see these posts:

Diagnosis: V-Tach

What it was like to wear a Linq Monitor for three years