heartbeats

When I say I have an overactive imagination, I mean that I tend to imagine the very specifics of a hypothetical situation. It's not all bad, not all excessive worrywarting; in many ways it keeps me from trouble, keeps me appreciative of the moment. When my mind really gets into it, though, really goes there, it can be quite arresting. If I were less inclined to think of this worrying as one of those "prayers in advance" we've talked about in Blogland, and more inclined to convince myself that these imaginings will be reality, I might just panic. Like, really panic.

Last night we (J.Lo, me) were up for an hour or two pondering heart palpitations. Instead of beating regularly and unnoticeably like it should, J.Lo's heart was racing for several moments, then coming back down again. He was a little dizzy, but no pain. A knocking sort of arrythmia, very scary and weird. With a family history of heart attacks, this is not an appealing symtpom, and if one thinks about it too much, it could just make your heart behave even wackier.

Then there is me, the wife. My job is to be supportive, helpful the best way I can. Calming. Remaining calm. Not minding a bit that we'll both be more tired tomorrow for the added stress of these moments and the missing sleep time. Not worried when we use the phone to call the ER that K.Lo will wake, because frankly, I wouldn't mind seeing her now. She doesn't wake. The ER phone operator, after running through a list of questions, says to wait it out, see the doctor in the morning. Call again or come in if this XYZ list of symptoms occurs. We both try to put it out of our heads as much as humanly possible, and go back to sleep.


I've talked about choices before, and here again I know I have them. Choices. How to be, how to act, what to think. Except that I don't know what to think. And then there are a lot of thoughts I'm having that I'd very much like to press the "pause/rewind" buttons on, but the buttons are apparently broken. I know we both just need to take one step at a time. Just, heart palpitations: isn't that serious? Worrisome? It feels serious, worrisome.

Later today, he goes to the ER anyway, as the doctor does not have specialized equipment to diagnose heart issues. The end result is that it was just heart palpitations, nothing more, possibly due to: stress, cold medicine, high blood pressure medicine, migraine medicine, caffeine in general, or some random combination of any of these things. I'm skeptical, still, because we're talking about a heart here. And hearts are not supposed to beat like that. But what other choice is there than to accept the diagnosis, forgo the histrionics, and move on. Obviously be vigilant if it happens again (and hope to hell that it doesn't).

I feel like I'm pretty laid-back as a person these days, including as a parent and spouse, and I like being that way. And again, choices--I am cognizant that pretty much the only thing you can control in this world is your own behavior, but that fact is so hard to truly swallow, over and over again. I think we must all struggle with it, on some level, every single day. Is that just a human instinct, to try and control one's environment and make it go our way? Here is what I want: to live a long, healthy life, and for all of my family and friends to live a long and healthy life as well. It's not too much to ask, is it? I think about any slip-up in that perfect little formula, particularly with my husband and children, and it's an easy way to quickly spiral. To start imagining horrible little details about The Way it Would All Go. I don't like visiting that mental space.

So I make the choice not to, at least not very often. I don't think it's healthy to deny its existence, either, but you cannot live there. As magnetic as its pull might be.

...All this is to say that really we're fine. J.Lo, me, Bug. I didn't mean for this post to be overly dramatic, more just reflective on a particularly stressful set of hours. Hearts are a serious business, to me.