O no! Aamos is serious, and on a Monday morning, DH is home (yay!) and we are beginning life with Pedey, his new ICD. I was having a hard time this weekend and with the help of several friends (some from here, thank you so much B & G) had a little epiphany that I thought might be helpful--at least, helpful to other people with my flawed personality type! The medical folks and other ICD recipients who have been working with us all have this very upbeat attitude, which is a good thing. A lot of them refer to their ICDs as "guardain angels," and I can see that, as it is there to shock your heart if you ever go into SCA again (recall DH did at the end of a race where there were EMTS--at the end of training run, that's less likely). So it is a good thing, and the surgery to install it is much less invasive and not nearly as serious as was his bypass in June. Trouble was, I was having a hard accepting it and the changes it brings to our lives. Here are some: -you have to go in and have it downloaded regularly--some docs use the term 'interrogation' but as that is something cops do to my clients, ours agrees it is stupid and doesn't use it, -you have a cardiologist for the rest of your life -it feels a little like a 'big brother' thing inside your body -no MRIs -you set off airport security and can't be hand wanded, so it is a pat-down when you travel -periodically the battery wears out and you have to have a new ICD implanted, -the leads that go down the vein to the heart can break or become unattached, which can be painful and mean more surgery, -and-- one of the biggest things--you have some daily anxiety, to a greater or lesser degree, that you could get a shock out of the blue. We're lucky, in that DH's job isn't affected. If you need a CDL for your job, or are a mechanic or do certain kinds of welding, you need to find another line of work. Anyway, what I realized was that we needed to take some time to admit that we feel sad. We'll get to the sunny side of the street, but I believe that when you get a kick in the pants, it is not only ok, but necessary to take a day off and recover. What helped us is thinking back to when I had breast cancer. The night before my surgery was not all singing, all dancing. Yes, I was happy we seemed to have caught it early (turned out stage 1, no nodes). Yes, I chose the mastectomy b/c I didn't want the cancer to hop to the other breast. Yes, I knew that breasts are a small price to pay for being able to live your life. Still, that night, it was hard, really hard. We spent the evening talking and preparing. The day after surgery, I got up, started walking laps in the hospital, asking for more food and for an early discharge. We moved on and as you know, I now have a pretty irreverent attitude and make jokes about myself. DH agreed, and so we had our little pity party. It helped and we are now on track. It's not all nice and tidy, and we're not calling Pedey the "guardian angel" yet--in fact, that just may never happen. Still, life goes on, and we will learn to cope with the downsides and minimize them as best we can. The reason I took the time to post this (and forgive me if this is an obvious life lesson--I clearly got it at one point and then promptly forgot it, I guess) is that whether we are ourselves dealing with a setback, or trying to help a friend or loved one deal with one, ask if it might not make sense to step back and allow some mourning time. I mean this within reason, of course, no long extended 'woe is me' thing, just some reasonable time to say good-bye to what was. For me, this seems to be a clearing out process so that the new order of things can "come in" so to speak, and there is room for it. I know it hurts to see a loved one blue or down, but sometimes it is part of coping. I understand the people who were pointing out all the bright sides are wonderful, well-meaning folks. It is good to see lots of people living their lives with ICDs. We are looking forward to DH resuming running and hope for him being in the half in Seattle. We just needed and still do need a little time and space to make the necessary mind set adjustments. Trying to ignore those real feelings or hide them from each other only makes things worse. Telling us to count our blessings, look on the bright side, etc. somehow seemed to imply we were at fault or bad people, selfish and gloomy. And we are so not that. On a lesser level, it is what we do when we are injured and can't run. We are runners, so when we can't run, our daily lives seem lessened. No one wants to listen to a whiner, so we suck it up and sit it out (or not, and hurt ourselves more.) I'm guessing that the folks who are most successful in adjusting and taking the time they need to in order to heal are those who spent some time down in the dumps and acknowledging their feelings of unfairness and frustration. No need to respond, although of course I'm interested in your opinions or experiences if you want to post them. Obviously, part of the process I'm describing is being honest and up front. By taking the time to write this, I've made an significant step out of the shadows and over to that bright side we're headed toward. Thanks for helping. grins, for true, A.

Aamo - I think you've nailed it right on the head. Whether it's a huge life changing experience like breast cancer or heart-related issues, or a small experience - a sprained ankle that keeps us from running for a few months - there is a mourning period for what is lost, and we deserve that period. Granted, we shouldn't stay there for an extended period, but it is a necessary transition. You and your DH sound like you're on the right track to dealing with his health issue in a positive and meaningful manner, and no doubt you will come out on the other side stronger. Take care of yourself individually and each other together, and life will continue to bring you the happiness you deserve.

Amos, thanks so much for your post. You are so very eloquent and your posts are so easily read. Your DH is very luck to have you as I am sure he is well aware, and of course I can tell that you feel fortunate to have him as well. Take care of each other and of course all of your virtual friends will be here if you need. Having lost my mom to breast cancer I can't help but take great pleasure in knowing that you are so very full of life having been through what you have. You are truly an inspiration to us all Amy...THANK YOU and may God Bless you both.

I tried to spend some time down in the dumps. But I wasn't accepted by the tramps and the hobos. After a few days, I took my sack-on-a-stick and moved on. It's ok to be sad. And angry. Many folks who don't consciously go through this "in the moment" have it pop up unconsciously (subconsciously?) in weird ways later. The trick is to not get stuck in the dumps. There aren't any maps to the Closest Available Exit and the unwary visitor may not have tramps and hobos chasing him/her out. And yes indeedy, it's one thing to be the person going through the event. It's another thing, in some ways much more complex, to be the caregiver/friend/relative/spouse/etc. There are even fewer directional arrows and signposts for this person. Take it easy. Some days you win. Some days you lose. Some days it rains. Edited to add: by pure coincidence, I posted after Tramps. Heh. Ooops. Different kind of tramps in my post.

DickyG--that man that posted just above you has had more than his share, too. And he always makes me laugh. Thank you Stevie Ray for that.....and to you all for your comments and good wishes.

Amy - I have nothing of value to add to what everyone else has said here, but I just wanted to say, thanks for sharing this, and heartfelt {{{hugs}}}...

Trouble was, I was having a hard accepting it and the changes it brings to our lives. A.

Amy- Change can be a good thing or a bad thing. I must believe that in this case, the change is for the better. Living with changes and adapting can be very, very difficult- (but it beats the alternative!) Many of my patients have ICD's. Some fear them, some ignore them...many are annoyed that they have them, but they serve a very useful purpose. If the device is set up properly, patients shouldn't fear a 'shock out of the blue'--as it would be a lifesaving shock which served a specific and worthwhile purpose. One of my colleagues gives out a 'heart pin' to all his patients whose devices have gone off and saved their lives...which I find is a very cool idea. Every one of my patients whose device has gone off has been quite happy that it did what it did...and I'm quite happy to have them around to tell me about it later...

Amy, thanks for your post. I've never really suffered ANY kind of hardship or grief (my grandmother passing away at 78 has probably been the worst), so I appreciate your thoughts on how how some people deal with it. I think I'm the type to tell them to look at the bright side - I never thought of the necessity for mourning. You've given me a lot to think about!