@camy33x Scary is a relative term that depends on a patient's experiences with pain, with weak knowledge about what's coming, with an 'external locus of control' (google:" J. Rotter, Locus of Control), with anxiety, with fear. My dear late paternal grandfather told me he knew what Hell is. It's a place of 'not knowing'. Especially not knowing God, he meant, but I feel it applies equally to life for us mere mortals. Not having much autonomy and not knowing what's coming is hellish.

Was I scared? Let me say it emphatically, and in a single word: nyet. Or nein if you prefer. The reason for this emphatic and confident 'no' is that I couldn't wait for my ablation. I literally counted down the hours in the last three days. Why!?!!?!?!? Because I had read up on the methods, knew how they worked, knew what they could offer a patient who was probably as symptomatic as you are, and I insisted to my EP in our first meeting that I was dead serious about putting this disorder behind me. Yesterday would have been nice. Dr. Novak said, 'Okay, but we could also control this with medication, maybe lifestyle improvement.' I was shaking my head before he finished. 'I would like your mechanical intervention......please.' He diffidently went on to say he thought I was a good candidate and that he would get me scheduled. But this was only after I had done several workup diagnostics before he would even meet with me. For example, was my problem really ischemia? The only way to tell was to perform stress tests, an MRI, echo, and even an angiogram, which is the first 15 minutes of a catheter ablation. Everything else is the same except you're awake (you may ask for sedation) and they only poke their probe into the wrist or neck, depending, and then into the main cardiac blood vessels and through the four valves to ensure there's no stenosis or prolapse. To freak people out, both my Dad and I felt the catheter going up our arm and into our armpit. After that there's zip sensation. Honestly, if you're not a little rattled or squeamish about such things, it's not a lot different from an oral prophylaxis which many of us have twice a year. Oh, and the operatory is chilly. Quite chilly. My lips must have turned blue because the orderly who wheeled me out of the cath lab put a warmed bankie around me before he moved me. I'll not forget that thoughtfulness or the warmth as long as I live. That's without a word of a lie.

Final comment, and a lot of people seem to agree with me: the two worst things about a catheter ablation are: a. possibly a sore and very dry throat due to the TEE they put down your esophagus to keep an eye on how close the energy needle they use to damage the endothelial tissue around your pulmonary vein ostia gets. They do NOT want to burn your esophagus...or the phrenic nerve, either. So, that's a sore and dry throat, and b. lying completely still flat on your back for about 2 hours before they'll offer you something to drink, and then something to eat near the three hour mark, and finally they insist you rise and push your IV tree around the ward, shuffling. This is to see if you can maintain blood pressure. So we're close to four hours by now. If you're good, keep the food and drink down, and you don't bonk and conk down the hallway, they'll call your ride and you're away inside of 30 minutes or so. Day surgery.