BROKEN HEARTED

I think humans are good at making up things to be worried about. Maybe it's some instinctual act to preserve one's sense of usefulness or it is a motivation to live by finding a cause for which you can fret (often needlessly) over. Having completed a list of health questions, my doctor was just about to wrap up the physical check up when she glanced over the ECG readout. Something caused her to pause. It seemed that my heart was not beating the way that a normal heart (or one belonging to someone my age) was supposed to beat. She's aware of my training for the triathlon and that may be the cause. Regardless, she suggested that I should speak to a cardiologist, but did not have much confidence in herself being able to arrange for me to see one at a nearby Mississauga hospital, just to interpret this odd blip. Instead, she photocopied the readout and gave it to me, giving me the impression that I should try to find a cardiologist to read this myself. I thought nothing of it until I got a call from her the next day, inquiring about whether or not I was successful in locating a cardiologist. This made me a little worried because doctors don't usually follow up with their patients unless it's bad news. Luckily, I had the readout with me at work and my pharmacist friend, D., just happened to be spending time in the cardiology department this week. So, I faxed over the readout, hoping that maybe she might bump into someone who could look at it. Well, she got back to me and said that it is important to get an ECHO done (an ultrasound of the heart), because it looks like it might be hypertrophic cardiomyopathy. Or it could be nothing. Of course, I was quick to jump on the net to see was HC was. It was an interesting exercise but it ended up adding fuel to my own worry. There is no cure for it but one could live out the rest of life without suffering any complications from it. So, with the help of D., I was able to schedule an ECHO right away. It'll be about a week before I know the results.

My initial reaction was disbelief. As if I didn't have enough things to contend with right now, I now also have to worry about my heart?! Ironically, this condition may have been brought on by my desire to live an ultra healthy lifestyle. We sang the song "Lord I Give You My Heart" at a worship service this past weekend, and all of a sudden, the words of this familiar song took on a new meaning. I guess this truly is a test of the words that I have mouthed so many times. Do I really mean it?

Mind you, sitting (or more like lying) through an ultrasound is quite an amazing experience, probably an experience that many expecting mothers go through. To actually see the heart beat, to hear the gush of blood flowing through the respective arteries, is quite amazing. So, in a spirit of awe and humility, I await the results.