Of Hearts: Murmurs
Today I am grateful for beating hearts and smiling faces. I appreciate the healthy beating of my own heart.
Returning to my A-Z list of challenges and catalysts, I arrive at the letter "h" and I think of HEART.
The heart is a vital organ. And heart means so much more than a body part too. Today it's about the body part.
When I was 5 and my brother Artie about 4, we both had rheumatic fever. I don't recall being all that sick, but I know that I was. Artie was even more sick. I remember a swollen and sore ankle. A heart murmur was detected, and for the next five years Artie and I took penicillin and the rest of the family was cautious when anyone got sick. We were vulnerable to more serious heart damage.
We also had to make an annual trip to University Hospitals in Iowa City for testing and appointments. Things like getting an EKG were a challenge for shy and inhibited Lisa. I was also challenged by the size of the hospital, the things I needed to have done to me (which in retrospect were no big deal, but you couldn't tell me that then), and the fears that were harbored in my active little mind.
The heart murmur didn't hold me back, and the penicillin must have done something to my immune system because I am one who doesn't get sick that often. The murmur was no longer detected. The memories of being sick, of taking penicillin, of doctor appointments and big machines are all distant memories. The fear of having a heart that would let me down was also left behind decades ago.
Now as I get older though, some of the caution and fear return. They can serve to be a catalyst for ongoing self-care. I am 54 now. The same age my father was when he faced a serious health challenge. More on that tomorrow.
Pause, be still and feel the awe of your beating heart a few times today.
Returning to my A-Z list of challenges and catalysts, I arrive at the letter "h" and I think of HEART.
The heart is a vital organ. And heart means so much more than a body part too. Today it's about the body part.
When I was 5 and my brother Artie about 4, we both had rheumatic fever. I don't recall being all that sick, but I know that I was. Artie was even more sick. I remember a swollen and sore ankle. A heart murmur was detected, and for the next five years Artie and I took penicillin and the rest of the family was cautious when anyone got sick. We were vulnerable to more serious heart damage.
We also had to make an annual trip to University Hospitals in Iowa City for testing and appointments. Things like getting an EKG were a challenge for shy and inhibited Lisa. I was also challenged by the size of the hospital, the things I needed to have done to me (which in retrospect were no big deal, but you couldn't tell me that then), and the fears that were harbored in my active little mind.
The heart murmur didn't hold me back, and the penicillin must have done something to my immune system because I am one who doesn't get sick that often. The murmur was no longer detected. The memories of being sick, of taking penicillin, of doctor appointments and big machines are all distant memories. The fear of having a heart that would let me down was also left behind decades ago.
Now as I get older though, some of the caution and fear return. They can serve to be a catalyst for ongoing self-care. I am 54 now. The same age my father was when he faced a serious health challenge. More on that tomorrow.
Pause, be still and feel the awe of your beating heart a few times today.
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