Greetings from the med surg floor of East Georgia Regional Medical Center!
There’s a tried-and-true rule about health to which I’ve subscribed for a long time: everything is fine ’til it ain’t.
Well…today, it ain’t…or at least it wasn’t. I was in a Zoom meeting at work when I started feeling a heaviness in my chest, accompanied by shortness of breath, nausea and all the bad things that WebMD will tell you are signs of a heart attack. I politely excused myself and asked our amazing office administrator to take me to the hospital.
I’m pretty bummed that this happened, but I’m trying to see its positive implications.
For one, it’s a very scary kick in the pants to get serious about my nutrition, diet, weight and exercise. I “know” I should do better. My brain is equipped with some 15 years of heart setbacks and incidents to educate me. I’ve had more than enough scares to get scared straight — even without dementors (another one for you Office fans).
Secondly, it means my cardiologist is going to be following up with me and giving me a talking to. He’ll also do a stress test, so we both have a better idea of how I’m actually doing.
Thirdly, it means the people around me will probably pay closer attention to what I’m putting in my pie hole. It’s annoying to have your family ask you if you’re sure you want to eat that, but it’s also effective. It’s a question I need to ask myself more often.
More than anything, I just want to see this for what it is — a temporary setback, a cause for readjustment, a pivot if you will.
I can’t let it derail my plans or depress me to the point of giving up. This is the point where I need to renew my resolve.
Either way, I’ll have the night to think about it all.
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