Yes, alright, the straight up truth is I lay there yesterday morning on the surgical table thinking 'I can't die now, I just got the new cutting dies from Sixxiz!' Oh. Dear.

Yes, it's true, the 'papercrafting' bug has struck and struck hard. Honestly don't think I could have made it through the past eight months without it. Bonus - we made all our Christmas cards this year and I sold several boxes at a craft fair. My dear husband now thinks perhaps this papercrafting lark has some merit - I made back a fair bit of my initial investment.

See, what happened was, back in early March 2019 I had what was to have been Round1 of root canal treatment - without prophylactic antibiotics thanks to the surgery (GP practice) I'd been registered at until we moved to our downsizer in a smaller town six miles away, the surgery that for some insane reason shredded the medical records I'd hand-carried from America. The surgery that labelled me a complainer for wanting my heart condition checked on schedule. The surgery that told the dentist office 'No, she doesn't have a heart condition!'.

So the dentist (a replacement for the old one who could tell by looking at me I did indeed have a heart condition and he'd be wise to order prophylactic antibiotics for anything more extreme than a simple filling) went on with the treatment and within a week I was on the verge of cardiac tamponade (when the pericardial sac around the heart fills with fluid and squeezes the heart to the point of stopping it...).

I ignored the symptoms, putting it down to 'a cold', 'the flu', overweight and out of shape...anything but what my brain kept insisting (GIRL! You have endocarditis or at least a whomping case of your recurrent pericarditis, FFS go to the GP you numpty!').

Until I returned to the dentist for Round2 and he realised I was probably in the midst of a heart attack (I wasn't but only because he made my husband drive me straight over to the GP surgery to register and be seen as an emergency). The GP took one look, one listen, and had me in the Rapid Access Chest Pain unit so fast my head was spinning. One thing led to another but the short story is my medical records have been corrected, my multiple heart conditions 're-diagnosed' and noted, I'm under the care of a rather superb cardiologist, and every time the dentist looks at me it's only after a course of antibiotics.

Right, so we owe the dentist. The GP, the cardiologist, and all the techs I've seen since say the same thing - 'The dentist saved your life!'. And he did, I know this, and we're sending him a Scottish Dentistry approved thank-you gift for Christmas - without him I wouldn't be seeing another Christmas...something my cardiologist pointed out yesterday just before the angiogram I was sure I wasn't going to survive.

Without being overly maudlin (hard to do when I think about it), the cardiologist and the surgeon and not a few of the nurses thought I was leaving there without at least some stents and more likely quadruple bypass (yeah, well, it really has been that bad here these past eight months). I went in there yesterday genuinely afraid my ticket was about to be punched.

Of course, I did make it through, and I was alert enough to be discharged the same day! During, though, I really didn't think I was going to make it through that angiogram AND right heart study - the angio went through my wrist, my dislocated biceps got in the way and the artery there decided to spasm when they were withdrawing the wires; the right heart study went through my groin AND IT WASN'T AS 'FUN' as the angiogram. But I did come home, and with a rather good result - no blockages, no need for anything...except the finding I am in smack up in the middle of yet another pericarditis flare. sigh

The reason for yesterday? My cardiologist (very-very good and I do trust him, I want to point that out) had never heard of pericarditis (which I knew was the problem - but I didn't go to med school and then specialise in cardiology so I wasn't about to argue overmuch with his training!) causing angina, had never heard of pericardial effusion causing angina, had never heard of Dengue Fever Stage2 (which I had in '95) causing pericarditis much less recurrent pericarditis that also caused angina. He was certain I was in terrible shape and on death's door and maybe even surgery wouldn't help, and did I make out my will and leave instructions for my husband? He wanted to be sure I had all the stents and bypasses he was so sure I was going to need. He kept saying I should be on statins. He was absolutely certain angina doesn't happen without blockages...

Now? Bottom line, he promises never to offer me statins again as my arteries are completely clear, and my heart-lung function is so good he wishes he had my stats. And he told me 'You're right, I did some checking before you came in this morning, and Dengue IS well known to cause recurrent pericarditis AND angina pain in Dengue endemic countries. I'll be following your case for years to come, I won't be discharging you back to your GP for years if ever.'

Could be worse, he could have insisted I take the standard medication (which gives me such horrible side effects it isn't worth trying to use). He could have given in to the other surgeon saying I should be kept in hospital under the effusion 'is sorted' (takes months, ask me how I know this...).

Instead I'm walking a half mile once a week to the GP for her to listen for pericardial rub and in the New Year (probably the second week of January) I'll be having an MRI to see how bad the inflammation is after I've been home-caring myself until the MRI. The GP says she'll see me Monday for the first listen and she's already been told how to reach the cardiologist if the rub sounds worse. Endless pots of chicken soup here I come!

So, I didn't die, and I can get back on the papercrafting once my wrist heals and stops this aching - suits me, there's another crafts fair in three weeks I want to set up a stall on.