I’ve been feeling great the past six months.  So great in fact that it has been possible to forget there’s anything wrong with me.  Ever since I got the Bi-ventricular Pacemaker, I’ve been able to make it through the day without napping.  I haven’t had any ventricular tachycardia; I have had lots of energy and my color has been good.

But this week has been different. Declines in my heart function usually show up first in my emotions.  Like some psychic bell weather.  A general feeling of doom and malaise. An overwhelming fatigue. A lack of interest in anything and anybody.

And there are also changes in my behavior. It’s become routine for Rick to drop me off at the curb and then go get the car to pick me back up.  I haven’t felt like helping with the groceries or meal planning. I’d rather find play dates for Rick than have to engage in social activities.  I’ve been hitting the wall mid afternoon, feeling so weak that I can barely stand.


It’s hard to stay upbeat.  To get up each morning and put on a happy face and fight the good fight.  This morning I told Rick that we need to seriously discuss my care.  There will be a time when we will need outside help.  When we will need to hire someone to relieve him.

Not surprisingly, he said we are far from that. That I’ll get a new heart before then.  Maybe. Maybe this bad patch will pass.  Maybe it’s just beginning.  Maybe it’s just the heat or allergies or aging. Maybe.