Last Friday was National Wear Red Day, an intentional opportunity to wear a red dress as a symbol of awareness of
fact that heart disease is number one killer of women in America. I didn’t wear a red dress, but I did get my very first electrocardiogram.
I wish I could say that I had planned it that way.
The truth is that I was experiencing chest pain, a terrible squeezing sensation in my left shoulder and left arm, and an alarming tingling running up my neck. I headed into Urgent Care. The next few days brought a series of tests involving all kinds of electrodes, ultrasounds, and my personal favorite, running on treadmill. I’m still waiting for results.
I’m a 43-year-old woman, fit and active, with low blood pressure, a stupendously healthy diet, and zero history of cardiac problems in my family. I’ve never smoked, I drink a small glass of wine most evenings, I have low cholesterol, and I’ve been meditating for over twenty years. You’d be hard pressed to find a woman with a lower degree of risk for any kind of heart disease. Yet, here I am, hanging out in cardiologist’s office with a bunch of 75-year-olds.
My doctor is my stepfather’s cardiologist. I know he’s good because he has done about a dozen surgeries and procedures to keep my stepfather alive and kicking over last 20 years. Dr. Toren is a great guy. Still, I never quite imagined I would need to visit him myself.
It’s been rather disconcerting, to say least.
But it’s also given me an opportunity to think about my heart in a whole new way. I am appreciating this fantastic organ and its ability to beat over a billion times in an average lifetime without (much) assistance.
Like most healthy people, I’ve taken it for granted. I’ve allowed it to go about its work, and only in rare circumstances when it decided to pound—middle school crush walking past me, parachute not opening fully while skydiving, snatching children out of harm’s way—did I ever really pay attention to it.
Poor heart. So unappreciated.
Not anymore. In last few days, I have felt every beat of my heart. I note blood coursing through my arteries with every pulse. Becoming hyperaware of my heart’s magnificence has resulted in an indescribable sense of awe. I’ve been greatly humbled.
I’d always sort of figured that I was in control of my body. I’ve been certified as a personal fitness trainer, and I know a lot about how to change your shape or size or strength through exercise. I’ve been healthy enough to actually think that I was one in charge. How ridiculous of me to believe that my body will do exactly what I want it to. It’s been running show since before I was born.
