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Authors: Alison Strobel
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down my neck.”
The comment was out of character. Savannah gaped in surprise. “Shaun, what on earth would make you think that? That’s not what I said at all, and it’s certainly not what I meant.” He had always been more private than she when it came to his faith, but she never would have expected him to respond like this. “You used to meet with Alex and Kurt and William once a month for breakfast — that’s the kind of thing I’m thinking of, just a checking-in now and then, someone to ‘report’ to besides just each other. That obviously isn’t working.”
Shaun shook his head and waved a hand to dismiss the idea. “Look, when you’re out of here and we’re back to normal, then we can talk about that kind of thing. For now I don’t even want to think about A&A. I just want us to focus on getting you better.” He sat back in his seat and reopened the book he’d been reading, effectively ending the conversation whether she was finished or not.
Hurt but too tired to fight, Savannah flipped back to the Psalms, but instead of reading she closed her eyes and began to pray.
She awoke with a start, unsure of how long she’d been sleeping. The cardiologist stood at the foot of her bed. “I’m sorry to have interrupted your nap, Mrs. Trover,” he said, his deep voice soothing her. “But I wanted to talk to you about our next step.”
Savannah clutched the Bible tightly with one hand. Shaun grabbed the other. “So you know what’s wrong?” Shaun asked.
“Well, yes and no.” The doctor pulled the curtain as far to the other wall as it would go, giving them the most privacy they’d get in a shared room. He perched himself on the edge of the bed and consulted the printout he held. “Based on a lack of indicators for congenital issues, we’re guessing a virus has attacked your heart— which would make sense, given the flu you had. We just don’t know what virus, though honestly it doesn’t matter at this point. It’s the result that we’re concerned about — namely myocarditis. Heart failure, in layman’s terms. We’re going to keep you here, get you started on some medications that will hopefully help slow down the failure, monitor you for a few days to track your heart’s efficiency, and that will help us determine what the next step is. Typically we can’t do a lot for the myocarditis; we’ll treat the symptoms and give your body the rest and support it needs to heal the heart itself. To that end, we’ll keep you on the heart monitor to watch for arrhythmias, put you on a restricted diet, start you on digoxin and Lasix, and see how things go for the next week or so.”
“A week?” Savannah rubbed a hand over her eyes. “That’s so long.”
“Well, honestly, it may be longer than that. We just have to see what happens.”
Shaun sat on the edge of his seat. “So what are you looking for over this next week then? And what are the options at that point, the possibilities?”
“Well, if things go the way we hope they do, then your heart will begin to strengthen, we’ll see some improvements in energy and strength, and your heart’s efficiency will recover to where it should be. Most patients do recover from myocarditis with standard supportive treatment, and your previous health is a good indicator that you will.”
Savannah was afraid to ask what was on her mind, but more afraid of the unknown. “And if I don’t improve? What then?”
“Hopefully it won’t get to that. But depending on how things go, we may have to try some other medications, see if they slow the failure and help turn things around. A pacemaker may be necessary, if your heart’s rhythm gets out of sync. But if you continue to worsen at the pace you have so far, it’s possible you’ll need a heart transplant.”
Savannah feared her heart would stop right then. She couldn’t even bring herself to look at Shaun, knowing she’d break down. “A transplant? It could get that bad?”
“There is a possibility,
The comment was out of character. Savannah gaped in surprise. “Shaun, what on earth would make you think that? That’s not what I said at all, and it’s certainly not what I meant.” He had always been more private than she when it came to his faith, but she never would have expected him to respond like this. “You used to meet with Alex and Kurt and William once a month for breakfast — that’s the kind of thing I’m thinking of, just a checking-in now and then, someone to ‘report’ to besides just each other. That obviously isn’t working.”
Shaun shook his head and waved a hand to dismiss the idea. “Look, when you’re out of here and we’re back to normal, then we can talk about that kind of thing. For now I don’t even want to think about A&A. I just want us to focus on getting you better.” He sat back in his seat and reopened the book he’d been reading, effectively ending the conversation whether she was finished or not.
Hurt but too tired to fight, Savannah flipped back to the Psalms, but instead of reading she closed her eyes and began to pray.
She awoke with a start, unsure of how long she’d been sleeping. The cardiologist stood at the foot of her bed. “I’m sorry to have interrupted your nap, Mrs. Trover,” he said, his deep voice soothing her. “But I wanted to talk to you about our next step.”
Savannah clutched the Bible tightly with one hand. Shaun grabbed the other. “So you know what’s wrong?” Shaun asked.
“Well, yes and no.” The doctor pulled the curtain as far to the other wall as it would go, giving them the most privacy they’d get in a shared room. He perched himself on the edge of the bed and consulted the printout he held. “Based on a lack of indicators for congenital issues, we’re guessing a virus has attacked your heart— which would make sense, given the flu you had. We just don’t know what virus, though honestly it doesn’t matter at this point. It’s the result that we’re concerned about — namely myocarditis. Heart failure, in layman’s terms. We’re going to keep you here, get you started on some medications that will hopefully help slow down the failure, monitor you for a few days to track your heart’s efficiency, and that will help us determine what the next step is. Typically we can’t do a lot for the myocarditis; we’ll treat the symptoms and give your body the rest and support it needs to heal the heart itself. To that end, we’ll keep you on the heart monitor to watch for arrhythmias, put you on a restricted diet, start you on digoxin and Lasix, and see how things go for the next week or so.”
“A week?” Savannah rubbed a hand over her eyes. “That’s so long.”
“Well, honestly, it may be longer than that. We just have to see what happens.”
Shaun sat on the edge of his seat. “So what are you looking for over this next week then? And what are the options at that point, the possibilities?”
“Well, if things go the way we hope they do, then your heart will begin to strengthen, we’ll see some improvements in energy and strength, and your heart’s efficiency will recover to where it should be. Most patients do recover from myocarditis with standard supportive treatment, and your previous health is a good indicator that you will.”
Savannah was afraid to ask what was on her mind, but more afraid of the unknown. “And if I don’t improve? What then?”
“Hopefully it won’t get to that. But depending on how things go, we may have to try some other medications, see if they slow the failure and help turn things around. A pacemaker may be necessary, if your heart’s rhythm gets out of sync. But if you continue to worsen at the pace you have so far, it’s possible you’ll need a heart transplant.”
Savannah feared her heart would stop right then. She couldn’t even bring herself to look at Shaun, knowing she’d break down. “A transplant? It could get that bad?”
“There is a possibility,
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