Guch-ie Guch-ie Goo

Looks like the ticker and the little kicker are compatible.
At my last ante-natal visit, Stella the Lovely Irish Nephrologist expressed some concern about the lack of anatomical detail available from my last echocardiogram, and sent me off to a cardiologist yesterday, with questions about heart health and delivery options.

I'm not usually nervous about cardiologists or any other sort of doctor, but the purpose of this visit was primarily to confirm the bits of my heart anatomy not clear on last month's echocardiogram, and the simplest way to do this would be with a trans-oesophageal cardiograph (TO). Ick.

In layman's terms, that means sticking a tube down one's throat under sedation to take pictures of one's heart. To my tentative delight, the cardiologist suggested that my lack of symptoms and history of fitness don't really indicate any need for a TO while I'm still pregnant. He'll be checking with another cardiologist during the week, but so far, so good. Still no conclusive advice about the recommended mode of delivery for Fetie, but we'll know that when we know it.

For those not up-to-speed with my condition, I'm what Stella the Lovely Irish Nephrologist referred to as a GUCH - a Grown-Up Congenital Heart patient (also known as a member of the Zipper Club). The day after I was born a bit blue, I had surgery to correct pulmonary atresia, and was also diagnosed with an atrial septal defect (ASD) and a patent ductus arteriosus (PDA).

The bits in question now are the ASD and PDA, which, if they're present, don't seem to be affecting my health now, but can have future implications. So whilst a tube-down-the-throat isn't likely in my immediate future, I don't think I'm off the hook forever.