I never imagined that one long, emotional day would end in a medical emergency — my first AFib episode.
After helping my son move into his college dorm, my daughter and I finally arrived home around midnight. We were both physically and mentally exhausted after countless trips up and down stairs with heavy boxes, carpets, and electronics.
After setting up his room—making the bed, organizing furniture, hanging clothes—we made one last trip to stock his mini fridge.
This move-in was especially meaningful. My son had missed his first-ever college semester due to COVID and had been stuck doing online classes from home. He was more than ready for this new beginning.
As we said our goodbyes, I was filled with mixed emotions—so proud of him, but also overwhelmed by the realization that a new chapter had begun, and I wasn’t quite ready to turn the page.
The Drive Home
We began the five-hour trip back home. I felt dizzy—something I’d experienced before when I overdid it—but I chalked it up to sheer exhaustion and pushed through, eager to get home and sleep.
Once we got home, we unpacked the car and I headed to bed. Lying there, I checked his location on my phone and saw he was already out exploring.
That protective instinct kicked in—I began to panic slightly, realizing that I no longer had control or the ability to keep him safe. But eventually, my body gave in to sleep.
Waking Up to Panic
About 30 minutes later, I woke up suddenly to a terrifying sensation in my chest. My heart was beating hard—but not normally. I checked my pulse: fast, then slow, then skipped beats. Too many, then none.
My stomach twisted into knots. I went into my daughter’s room, repeatedly telling her, “I’m not OK.” She tried to make sense of what I was saying through her sleep, but I was already in full panic mode.
We called 911.
AFib with RVR
The paramedics arrived within 10 minutes. They placed an EKG on me and I remember asking, “Was this just a panic attack? Should I not have called you?” One of them responded calmly but firmly:
“Your heart rate is very high.”
They inserted an IV while I was still in bed and told me I was in Atrial Fibrillation with Rapid Ventricular Response—AFib with RVR.
At the ER, I was moved quickly from triage to a treatment room, surrounded by doctors almost immediately. That alone made me more anxious—never had I seen so many doctors respond so fast.
They discussed several options: administering medication to slow my heart rate, blood thinners to prevent a stroke, and even the possibility of shocking my heart back into rhythm.
The Worst Night of My Life
The pounding in my chest was relentless, as if my heart was trying to break free. I was dizzy, lightheaded—no position brought comfort. When I was alone in the room, I truly believed my heart was just going to stop and that I would die right there.
My blood pressure was low, and I needed to urinate constantly, but I couldn’t walk safely due to the dizziness. The fear and anxiety only made things worse.
A Sudden Shift
After about eight hours, something changed.
Suddenly, it was easier to breathe. The intense chest discomfort eased, and the burning in my throat stopped. I glanced at the heart monitor—the blinking “AFib” message was gone.
My pulse was steady again, and my heart rate had dropped back to the 60s—normal for me.
I was kept overnight for observation and additional bloodwork, then discharged the next day with a follow-up scheduled that afternoon with my cardiologist.
Living in Fear of the Next Episode
I had heard of AFib before, but nothing prepared me for the overwhelming fear of experiencing it myself.
The thought that something was wrong with my heart shook me to the core. Even though the hospital cleared me to go home, I felt far from safe. I was convinced I wouldn’t survive the night—that my heart would simply stop while I slept.
I was never a hypochondriac before, but this diagnosis changed everything. When it’s your heart, fear becomes constant. I began checking my pulse dozens of times a day, terrified of another episode.
Looking back, my first AFib episode completely changed how I think about my health.
Slowly Finding My Way Back
Over time, my fear began to subside. Weeks passed, then months. I started to believe that maybe—just maybe—this had been a one-time event. That belief brought some peace……until, out of nowhere, I woke up again in full-blown AFib almost a year later.
That second episode would send me down a new path of tests, fears, and big decisions I never imagined having to face. But it also marked something else:
The beginning of learning how to truly live with AFib, instead of being ruled by it.
There is so much more to share, and I’ll be opening up about that next.
Turquoise Heart