I believe I have shared this information in the past, but I have a pacemaker. Earlier this week, I received a phone message from my doctor’s office informing me that my remote monitor picked up some unusual heartbeats and that they wanted me to take a series of tests as a precaution. They let me know that it was not an emergency situation, but needless to say, this was not a message I enjoyed receiving.
I called the doctor’s office to try and set up an appointment for the tests. After being on hold for over fifteen minutes, I became anxious and used a second phone to try and call their other offices. I was able to get through to the nurse who had left the phone message, she was helpful, but anxiety was already setting in. After being on hold for eighteen minutes, the first phone call was disconnected. The nurse on the second call asked me to hold and while doing so, the first phone began to ring, it was the other office calling me back to set up the appointments.
Trying to listen to what both women were trying to tell me, on the separate phone calls, kicked me into panic mode. I didn’t want to hang up with either of them for fear of losing them both. As panic set in, the tears began to flow and both women tried to console me, reassuring me that the matter would be handled and that these tests were nothing to worry about. I finally let the second phone call go and scheduled my appointment with the office I needed to go to. After I hung up the phone, I ate a handful of ashwagandha gummies and took some holy basil to boot.
I had already been experiencing a stressful day at work and the idea that something may be more wrong with my heart, sent me over the edge. I managed to get through the rest of the workday, but as soon as I got home, I started to ride my exercise bike. I’ve had it for over fifteen years, it’s been mended numerous times, but it keeps on going. I figured, I could do fifteen minutes, a first step in preparing for the 3-4 hours stress test I was going to be taking in a couple of weeks. I did it easily and I managed to ride it even longer the next day, but by the third day, I was already bored with it all.
Instead, I did housework. I figure that is a form of exercise and lord knows I was sweating bullets doing it, but my son informed me that he didn’t believe that it counted. It was already late in the day when he said this to me, so instead of doing the exercise bike, I did some calisthenics. Sadly, I was only able to do that for about six minutes, but I figure that it was better than nothing.
My son always says that I have to want it, that is the only way I can make a lifestyle change permanent. Honestly, I don’t know that I do. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not ready to checkout just yet, but not one fiber of my being enjoys exercise. I’ve gone through periods of my life when I was able to go to the gym three times a week and workout like a fiend for months, even years at a time, but I always fall out of the routine. It bores the hell out of me and no matter how long or how hard I exercise; the weight doesn’t come off. I enjoy the increased strength, but it’s so easy to just stop doing the routines.
Within the year, I will need to get the batteries in my pacemaker updated and I figure I should try to get into better shape in preparation for the procedure. Weight loss would be awesome, but it’s not what I want. What my heart wants is strength and endurance. I really don’t care much about what I look like anymore. Anytime I’ve lost some weight, it just isn’t enough in anyone’s opinion, more so mine than others, so I’ve just stopped worrying about it. What I’m more concerned with is survival. I know I couldn’t run for my life, if need be, but now I’m beginning to wonder if I could even walk a mile. I can do the exercise bike, but walking is much more difficult for me. I’m guessing that it is because it is weightbearing, but I know that it also has to do with my fear factor. When I do go walking, I try to stay close to home, just in case something happens. On the exercise bike, I am already home, so if I am doing poorly, I just stop and I feel safe. I wouldn’t feel safe if I were a mile away from the house and didn’t feel like I could make it back home. I told this to my son and he said, you would just sit down somewhere until you felt better and then walk home, easy for him to say. My heart doesn’t want to be someplace, away from home, and try and get this body back to safety. My heart wants to stay home. My mind wants to stay home. I want to stay home.
I had an awesome day today. I had to go to a meeting for work, but after that, I got to stay home. I had no errands to run, no place to go, no place to be and so I watched some TV and did housework. That’s all I really wanted to do and I was blessed that I was able to do so. I wish I could stay home tomorrow as well, but I need to go back to work. I never wanted to be a working woman, I wanted to stay home and raise my kids, but that option was taken away from me. My whole life, I have always wanted to go home, I just want to go home. Home is where the heart is, right?
I would enjoy my little adventures, but I was always so happy to go home. I was hardly ever alone, there was always someone home with me, but even now when I am usually alone, I’m still happier when I am home. So, I guess I will need to find a way to strengthen my heart, in preparation of my tests and procedure, at home. I also have a rowing machine and some free weights, so it is possible. Now, I just have to figure out a way to trick my mind into wanting to do it. I have to figure out how to do what my heart wants, what my heart needs, without making myself miserable, before it’s too late.
Right now, my heart wants to go to bed. Maybe something will come to me in a dream. There’s always hope, at least, that is what my heart tells me.
#thelieswechoosetolivewith
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