She Scrubs Me Like A Rock of Ages

It seems that there is nothing seriously wrong with my heart except when I wear it on my sleeve or when it bleeds because I am a liberal. My echo report did show that little regurge thing but she is pumping along just fine. Doing what needs to be done & in a very competent way. The Dr said I was not the easiest patient to perform the test on because I am "big chested." I thought that was funny & something your middle school gym teacher might say when its time to start wearing a sports bra.

So, we are moving on to another theory which involved a thyroid blood test (again) & wearing a holter monitor for 24 hours. At first I thought the Dr said "halter" and that brought memories of being 14 and actually being able to wear a halter top. I don't think I ever wore one though. It would have clashed with my earth shoes, white painters pants & skateboard.

A holter monitor is a mobile EKG machine & it looks like something the cable guy would use to get your DVD player to communicate with your surround sound system. It has 5 lead wires that snap into suction cups that are glued to various points on your upper body. The wires are attached to a little black box that you stick in your pocket so it does not dangle around your knees. This is really not a problem if your pants have pockets, but going to the bathroom requires some forethought about making sure you remove the little box from your pocket before commencing to sit.

I was instructed to go about my normal routine and when I felt a blurp or flutter I was to write down the time and what I was doing. I had a idea. This could be a once in a life time thing - to see a printout of how hard your heart beats during hoochie. But since the Dr said to follow my normal routine & who has hoochie on a Wednesday (that's what Thursdays are for), I did not follow through on that. Plus, I'd be embarrassed to have written the word "sex"on the chart. For some reason I could not do that but I can write about it in my blog.

I also thought about provoking a fight with Lynne to see what that might look on a printout too but we did not have a fight until later the following evening, hours after the monitor came off (by the way, its my opinion that I did not provoke the aforementioned fight). So it was a typical uneventful day but I did find that I pretty much palpitate all day long. Probably, I don't palpitate during hoochie or when fighting but we'll never know that now will we?

All in all, wearing the monitor for 24 hours was not a bad experience. The worst is getting the glue off of your body. After much scrubbing on my own for a day and a half with little results, I asked Lynne for help (we were done fighting at that point). She took a pumice stone to a couple of spots. That's love.

My Heart Spits Up

Well, there you have it. My diagnosis is.... Wait, I've got to find the paper with the words written on it because I butcher it every time I have to say it. Which is in a sense a shout out to my mother who when I told her said, "Well, it might be generic." She meant genetic. That reminds me of when I told her I was a lesbian. She said, "Well, I know its nothing I did wrong because I learned on Phil Donahue that you were born that way, it's generic." I should have "Yes, Mom, I am a generic lesbian. You can tell because I am covered in a plain black & white label with a bar code across my forehead. Not top shelf but I taste just as good & I've got a good long shelf life & who needs a fancy label anyway." That was a 18 years or so ago and for anyone under 40 reading this, Phil Donahue paved the way for Oprah and for anyone who knows my Dad, he kinda looks Phil because he went prematurely gray too, which I am told is also genetic & so I can thank Dad for that too. See, its all spookily connected.

I have a mild mitral and tricuspid regurgitation or in medical slang, mitral regurge. Lynne said that means my heart spits up or something along that line. I am not sure those were her exact words but its close. This caused me to laugh. I guess when you have anything "mild" you are informed by mail - like I was along with a checked box that says "Schedule an appointment for review of results and/or follow-up evaluation." Should I conclude that it's not serious because I did not receive a frantic call to go to the hospital for open heart surgery? Maybe I'll ask Lynne to shore up the floppy tricuspid valve with some duct tape. I actually like the shiny silver tape she used on the furnace heat runs a little better. That would be kinda pretty.

The March That Was

I have to say that I am glad to be looking back at March 2010. It was one rough month. I have been thinking of the phrase - what does not kill you makes you stronger. Not that anything that happened this month was going to kill me, its just that if we really knew what we were in for on a particular day we might just go back to bed and avoid the whole damn thing. The universe is tricky that way.

I feel like you do after a break up. You know, where you want to feel better about life and you know you will but you can not hurry the process and you can not see into the future to the exact moment when you realize you are not thinking about your ex & then you realize - oh, this pain has eased and I can actually imagine a day without thoughts about them. Then you begin to realize that you might actually flourish in a way you had not envisioned before because your life was different. Then that is what a happens and you look back and say "phew, that was some journey"

There are a lot of emotional loose strings floating around me and I am not certain which ones to grab. I feel sad about the merger. I feel sad about losing my boss of 14 years. I feel sad about my relationship with my parents. I feel sad about being middle aged. Then I am thankful for a partner I love & who I know who loves me back. I am thankful for my friends. I am thankful for all the hugs I got and gave over the last week. I am thankful for the all that I have learned in my 46 years. I am thankful for being employed, for my tax return, health insurance (that includes therapy), a smart & loving kid who is graduating from college in May. Well, that could go on and on so I think this means in the end I am coming out ahead.