What must be coming up to a year ago now – it all began. There was no fanfare, no lights, no ceremony, no starting gun. Simply the nightless fluorescent world of A&E, and the slow but imoveable realisation that this was not the usual cut or scrape, this was a thing, a thing that was now me, and was not going to go away. An introduction at the deep end. New words happening – first around me then to me: Antiarrhytmia, Anticoagulant, Cardioversion. Beta-Blocker, Flutter, Atrial Fibrilation. A very real, a very personal new world where the people around me seemed to know an awful lot more than me about what was going on in what has got to be in my top two organs… my heart.

While this day had ended very differently – it had started as a great day. The best of days infact. Idilic. A template of sorts.

I had been off work for a week – and had been spending time with family.

I had come home, and had a long weekend and Bank Holiday filled with all the good things life should be about. Friends, laughter, riding bikes, good weather. Standard.

The ride out was a bit bumpy to be fair – bit it is hilly here, and we were not going far. The weather was good, and we were in zero hurry. This was a spare day – one to enjoy. A lesiurely cafe stop, and home along the coast.

We stopped for a bevereage at a local pub, sat out in the sun, caught up. Laughed. Allowed ourselves a little time to relive the glory days of years gone by through those inevitable rose tinted spactacles. We even played an impromtu game of ‘hide Mat’s cycling shoes’. He, as usual, was less than impressed.

Then, home. Two miles, a tiny hill, then flat home. The perfect end to a great day.

During that short ride it started. First a small kick, then longer and longer until it just kinda stayed.

Like a fish out of water.

Inside my chest.

On and off at first, then more persistant.

I ignored it at first.

I am not sure I even mentioned it to anyone.

The afternoon passed.

The evening passed,

I tried to go to bed early to make it go away – or sleep it off… if anything that simply made it mad.

Nine hours later, I presented at A&E and the adventure began.

Sixteen hours after it started I was sent home, holes in arms, clutching sheets of ECG’s, and having been stuffed full of medications that I really didnt know what they did. I just knew it had not stopped, and I felt ruff.

Sleep. It was going to take more than discomfort to stop me from sleeping now.

Welcome to your new world.

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