12 Weeks

12 weeks since I went to the doctor because I knew something was drastically wrong with my heart.

10 weeks since I found out I had a birth defect in my heart.

8 weeks since that giant hole was patched with a device made of nitinol, a nickel/titanium alloy. I have no idea what that really is but I've attached a photo for your viewing pleasure.

In my humble opinion that device is THE most beautiful thing. It's in the middle of my heart, which sometimes gives me pause, as in skipped beats, but guess what? It's working!

My right heart is no longer enlarged. It has returned to normal. I can get my teeth cleaned now. I can exercise (I'm trying to be excited about that.) Heck, I can run a marathon. Well, maybe not that last thing, but I could TRAIN for one and not have a stroke now, but no one hold your breath. Seriously.

Speaking of breath, I still find myself amazed and extremely satisfied every time I take a deep one. I NEVER knew how much I struggled to breathe normally until my heart was patched and I started, well, breathing normally. Hindsight.

There were dark days, especially with the first diagnosis. It felt like a death sentence. Based on my symptoms and weird left-to-right shunting I should have had it. I'm glad that I didn't. Yet, I am GRATEFUL everyone thought I had it, because without it I would never have been referred to the clinic where one VERY persistent echocardiogram technician found what every other tech and doctor had missed for so many years. She's the unsung hero in this story.

I read the most profound quote last night that rings so true for me. "God meets us where we are, not where we pretend to be." (I have no idea who should get credit for that quote....) Yes, in the depths of despair, he was present. Through heartbreak (literally in my case) he was present. At medical appointments when I was in deep shock, he was present. When I pretended to have it together I missed him. But when I let myself be a mess I heard him speaking in the most enticing whisper. Filling me with inexplicable peace as I prayed and lamented. Recognizing his great love when friends and family demonstrated their love for me. He.was.always.there.

Faith is a beautiful and complex thing. Jesus has saved me over and over from many traumatic and life-threatening (can someone please tell me if this should be hyphenated???) things in my 47 years. You'll have to read the novel for all the gory details.

Now, to be fair you should know that things still aren't perfect. My heart is a bit rebellious. I'm still wearing a heart monitor (that weird beeping is probably just me.) I'm struggling with skipped beats, a racing heart rate, sudden drops and ridiculous fatigue, but even with all of that I feel SO MUCH better. I've been waiting to say that for 3 months and it feels so good when I do!

Now comes the hard work of rehabbing and regulating that rebellious, old ticker. Learning to live with those pesky PACs and PVCs. The ocular migraines. The rushing feeling in my chest. Who knew recovery could be so exhausting?? (My tongue is firmly in my cheek.)

Life is never dull is it? But it is still beautiful, meaningful and full of hope. And mine is FULL of so many wonderful friends and family. Friends who sacrificed for me. Prayed for me. Cried with me. Fed me. Listened to me. Nephews who stayed with me. Changed my sheets. Watched movies with me. Let me be grumpy. Big brothers who drove from out of town to help my parents when I couldn't. A baby brother and sister-in-law who took over when I couldn't manage. And lots of flowers, cards, phone calls, emails and texts. I'm still overwhelmed by all of the TLC, and I don't mean the cable channel.

Brushes with mortality are always sobering. After more than one I've learned to cherish the personal growth and deeper faith that grow out of those experiences. There will no doubt be more, but I know that I will not walk through them alone.

Now excuse me, I just heard Titanium on the streaming app (remember when we used to say radio?) So I'm going to turn it up and dance. Because I can. And because, well I'm full of titanium now. Guess you could say I'm bionic. ;-)

5 Weeks

It has been a long five weeks.  I really thought I'd be fully recovered and back to a normal life by now.  The best laid plans I guess.  The good news is that I can breathe deeply and normally like I assume most of you do.  I cannot even begin to describe how it feels to fully expand my lungs without wheezing, coughing or getting dizzy.  I've never done that before in all of my 47 years.  It's kind of amazing.  Apparently I look better, at least that's what I'm told.  Maybe because I no longer look like I'm about to have a stroke.  Woohoo!  I don't know why God spared me the fate of others who have this defect, but I'm grateful and don't want to waste it.

I have learned that I am TERRIBLE at resting.  REALLY bad at it, but my body has required it and I've had no choice.  It has been kind of boring, although I have learned a whole lot about English Royalty.  Maybe I'll finally learn how to take care of myself now and listen to my body, even when others dismiss me.  I'm confident that I know myself well enough to fight for my health.  I am the only one who knows how I feel.  I'm trying not to be so hard on myself, which is fairly new.  It feels weird, but not necessarily bad.

My heart is a creature of habit.  I don't think it likes having a metal device in the middle of it.  It keeps trying to function like it used to, even thought it was damaging itself.  So not it's acting like a crazy, rebellious teen. It can't drive 55.  Instead it revs its engine and takes like at speeds of well over 100 only to scare itself, freak out, slam on the breaks and turn into that annoying Sunday driver going 45 in a 65 mph zone.  It is a wild, unpredictable and sometimes scary ride.  Hopefully the new medication will help.  It not then more tests.  Honestly, I'm tired of tests and would rather not continue to be a case study.  

Yet I still feel better today than I have in months.  Still not where I want to be, but maybe getting there.  Zeus even got a 15-minute walk tonight.  Of course I needed a nap after, but I did it!  I never knew I would be so excited to take a 15-minute stroll, but I'm thrilled!  Baby steps are hard when you're impatient, but at least I can take them.  So, I'm praying that my heart stops freaking out and I can live as a healthy, active, happy woman again instead of a sick, recluse who can't walk from the sofa to the bed!

Savor every moment friends because life if precious.

P.S. Those Tudors were CRAZY!