I went for a second opinion last week.  I’m still having a lot of tests done to determine all the many ways my heart is defective, but it is unlikely I have  Tako Tsubo after all.  I might just have the old fashion kind of heart failure instead of some funky Japanese variety. That’s not nearly as much fun to have or to say. They call it idiopathic cardiomyopathy, just a fancy word for your heart muscle is too weak to satisfy the demands of your body and we don’t know why. It has been a twelve year slide, kind of like a frog in a pot of boiling water.

I don’t know what to do with this information.  I am a Christian.  I know God will walk with me through the valley of the shadow of death, but I am still scared as hell.  I am so scared in fact that it is hard for me to get out of my pajamas some days.  It is becoming increasingly harder for me to breath.  Pulling on tight jeans, taking off a sweater, climbing into bed.  These things are sometimes all it takes to leave me ever so slightly out of breath. Anything harder than that, and I’ve just run a 100 yard dash.  I can still function independently, carry on a normal routine, drive a car, run errands, have dinner with friends. The problem is, I don’t want to.  I don’t see the point.

Many people live with tremendous aches in their souls, but we don’t want to know about it.  We want them to soldier on, to fight the good fight, be brave, get over it, move on. And just how do they do that? I’ll tell you how they do it. Denial, alcohol, shopping, drugs, food, minimizing, risky sex, religiosity.  I’m a recovering alcoholic, so drugs and alcohol are out for me.  I’m not going to be in denial; I’m not going to whitewash my situation.  I’ve thought about eating whatever the heck I want, what difference does it make now.  But it does make a difference.  Food is fuel for our bodies and it is one thing we have control over.  Crappy food makes you feel crappy. I will continue to take care of my body even though it has betrayed me.  

What I am going to do is to feel my feelings. I will cry a lot and I will wallow for a while, I’ll probably spend some time in the Condo, I’ll go back to my therapist, I’ll find a support group, I’ll lean on my friends.  I will rely on my best friend, my husband.  I will pray.  And I will try to get to the point where I want to participate in life again, but I will live it in a distilled manner.   I will weed out the stuff that has no purpose, I will surround myself with things of eternal value. People whose lives are full of hope and joy. And I will do this by the strength that can only come from my maker. I will lift up my eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help. My help comes from the Lord.