A sadness too big to measure

I was delighted to run into my old art class buddy at the book shop today. The class dissolved about 3 years ago, and so the three of us who used to go to lunch together, or enjoy an occasional afternoon movie or art show, had lost touch. After the hug--No, she wasn't painting anymore, Yes, her husband was doing better, and did I know her 52 year old daughter died this summer. I almost couldn't catch my breath. They were preparing to go spend a few days with her, to provide transportation to and from surgery, and keep her company, and then got the call. Irregular heart rate--I think she'd been scheduled for an ablation. My friend had returned to the central Ohio area over 30 years ago to care for her own mother, and I think she had some comfort as she entered her 80s that her daughter was just in the next state. Now it's the numbing grief plus the insecurity. All the whys and what ifs. They will be moving to Pennsylvania to be nearer their son.

Fast and fluttery are more serious than slow. If like me, you've always had an irregular heart rate (shortness of breath, fatigue, dizziness and lightheadedness), and you've learned to live with it, or just wait till it goes away, it's not a heart attack you need to fear, but a stroke. I'm always surprised when I read that A-fib is not life threatening; it certainly was for my friend's daughter. When the rhythym is restored and the electrical charge reconnects, there may be a clot waiting to be pushed through.

This chance encounter today was a kick in the pants for me to have mine checked again. Technically, my ablation didn't work--all the pulmonary veins around my heart had been doing it wrong so long, they just ignored the fact that the extra circuit was dead and gone. It's time to stick that 30-day monitor back on. Yuk.