A Year Ago: Heart Vs. Brain

February 2, 2016

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A year ago:

I was out of breath from walking down the hall. I thought I was just pathetically out of shape.

I had a lot of trouble getting a good night’s rest. I thought that was “life”.

My stomach felt bloated and my jeans were fitting uncomfortably. I thought I was gaining weight.

I had no appetite. This of all things should have tipped me off but I thought, “Good, cause my jeans are fitting uncomfortably.”

I was “grumpy”, didn’t feel like myself at all, and didn’t take as much joy from my nice little life. I thought I was overwhelmed from work and doing the busy mom thing.  

I was exhausted, I couldn’t lay flat without feeling like I couldn’t breathe, I coughed all the time, and I felt like I couldn’t take in a good breath. I thought I’d caught a bronchitis or something, and it would run its course.

I remember having the distinct feeling that I was kind of sucking at life, but I bet I was giving folks a decent impression of being fine.

A year ago, today:

I decided to declare defeat (that’s how I looked at it) and went to a clinic after school. I was tachycardic, had an ejection fraction of 15-20% (it should be 55+), an enlarged heart, and I had some major congestive heart failure. I spent four days in the hospital and found out that I had a heart condition called dilated cardiomyopathy that, left untreated, had a “very poor” five-year prognosis (Read: If we don’t fix this, you’re not likely to make it five more years.)

Yes, holy sh*t, indeed. I wrote that clinic nurse a heck of a nice Thank You later on.

I can’t believe it’s been a year already. This seems crazy, but I actually think, “Wow, what a good year.” With a really good prognosis today, this is not a big thing. Despite not losing weight because HELLO, stupid metabolism-slowing medications – I’m living a significantly healthier lifestyle. It does still involve eating junk and Netflix. It also involves counting sodium, going to the gym, and getting a defibrillator implanted last month. I’ll get into changes I’ve/we’ve made in a future post, but I gotta tell ya, this “heart failure patient/survivor” thing, it doesn’t have to be awful. I do still tease Hubby that at least he can get a young hot blonde 2nd wife when I kick it. He does not find that funny.

I love this comic and I'm linking to him below and hopefully I won't get in too much trouble for using his image and spreading this awesomeness around the interwebs. Go buy comic stuff from theawkwardyeti.com, ok? Cool.
I love this comic and I’m linking to him below and hopefully I won’t get in too much trouble for using his image and spreading this awesomeness around the interwebs. Go buy comic stuff from theawkwardyeti.com, ok? Because how perfect is this? How lucky am I to get to think that my brain is enjoying a cup of coffee and my heart is skipping around, happy to be doing so much better?

Readers, please go to the doctor when you don’t feel right. Make the time. Don’t be afraid of them thinking you’re a hypochondriac or a whiner. People love you, you are important, and you just never know.  Feel free to tell them about your friend Meg who just thought she had a touch of bronchitis.

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