I have a condition called Tako Tsubo. At least I think I do. One thing for sure is that nothing is for sure. For the past 12 years I have had a pacemaker. It all started at Aaron Brothers. I was looking for picture frames to make a gallery in my upstairs hallway. The next thing I knew, I was sitting on a display shelf, shaking off a near fainting episode. This was the first of hundreds of such events. I went from being a normal, healthy 44 year old, to being the kind of person who spends an inordinate amount of time at doctors’ offices and hospitals. I have had too many procedures to count, 3 pacemakers, one defibrillator. Still, my heart rebelled.
Fast forward to last month. I’ll skip the details for now, but my heart problems kicked into overdrive. I had reached a truce with my unruly heart, continuing to do the things that gave my life enjoyment and kept me sane. Hiking, bike riding, lifting weights, playing golf. During this twelve year period, my heart was defiant, but it usually did its job adequately enough. That all came to a screeching halt. Somehow, I had all the signs and symptoms of a person who had had a major heart attack, leaving me, a health obsessed 56 year old with HEART FAILURE. Only I didn’t have a heart attack.
The working theory is that I have a condition called Tako Tsubo. It is a weird disease with an even weirder name. My left ventricular suffered massive damage, not from a heart attack but from 1000 tiny cuts. (metaphorically that is). Tako Tsubo is caused by stress. As it turns out, stress can kill you.
So, what next? I am on heart “bed rest”. No stress, no exercise. Those two things are mutually exclusive for me. Oh yea, I forgot, there is also medicine. Yukky medicine that I have refused to take during the past 12 years because it leaves me too fatigued to do those things I enjoy. If I succeed in living stress free, not exercising and taking the meds, my left ventricle should repair itself.
For a dyed in the wool pessimist, this is a tough task. I am a half glass empty kind of gal. I hope for the best, but expect the worst. etc, etc. But, this disease requires optimism, hope, peace. I want to hike in the Lake District, play golf with my friends, ride bikes with my husband, walk the hills of Carmel. Heck, right now, I want to be able to walk down the stairs at church to take communion without dreading the walk back. I want to be able to put on my boots without having a V Tach. I want to be able to carry a laundry basket, take a shower, blow dry my hair without having to lie down and rest.
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| December 2, 2013 From the gym to the Emergency Room of Methodist Hospital |
Just Passing Through 
Shana,
I've been reading your posts throughout the morning. I remember that first episode so many years ago. And how we all thought it would be ok… it sucks that it is not ok.
It's been a privilege to be your pastor through some of this and please know I'm praying for you and yours.
Please let Amy and I know if/when/how we can be of help.
JEff
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Shana,
I've been reading your posts throughout the morning. I remember that first episode so many years ago. And how we all thought it would be ok… it sucks that it is not ok.
It's been a privilege to be your pastor through some of this and please know I'm praying for you and yours.
Please let Amy and I know if/when/how we can be of help.
JEff
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Okay, if I'm being honest I only like hippies when they are being all peace and love and shit. When they are sending you mean emails that you are a bad mother because you feed you child gluten-filled pretzels instead of kale, then I do not like them one bit. You know, hypothetically speaking of course. I've had no actual experience with this in Austin at all. Nope.
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I do not like Tako Tsubo. That makes me think of wabi sabi. And wabi sabi makes me think of clay pots and hippies. Although I like hippies, I do not like Tako Tsubo because it is an asshole.
But I love you.
And I'm sorry you are going through this. You don't deserve this and it is a jerk.
And I'm sure someone could argue theologically that none of us deserve anything and etc but that person is a jerk too. That person can shut up.
I'm sorry you are going through this. You are awesome.
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Dear Shana, I found your blog through Facebook. I am a rare poster, and an occasional voyeur, but now I am hooked on your revelations and your expressions of humanity brought into focus this month. In my experience, Reality is a difficult sell on Facebook. I am proud to have been your golf partner, back when getting an 8 on a hole was embarrassing but better than a 12. ! But Shana, this life of yours right now has called me up short- I am wondering, how did I slip so far away from this strong woman with a frankly amazing knowledge of herself and her past. You are letting the light into some deep feelings and I wish you to know you are not alone at all. Thank you for inviting me into your room, Shana.
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Shana, I wish you all the best for your recovery. I like your blog. When my father was in Intensive Care, I saw your brother — maybe he even saw your brother! — so I hope you are getting all the support you need. There was also a doctor running around (this was Spring 1999) who looked like General Custer, which amused my father greatly.
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