Matters of the Heart

Hillsong’s “Each Beat of My Heart”, Bon Jovi’s “Every Beat of My Heart” or from the movie Coco “El Latido de mi Corazón” – each paints a picture of the human heartbeat. When we fall in love, we feel our hearts race. When we see a baby born, our hearts swell. When we see a child fall, our heart skips a beat. When we lose a love, our hearts are broken. We sing the songs, write the sonnets and create stories about the human condition involving the heart.

The normal range of heart rate for an adult is anywhere from 60 to 100 beats per minute (bpm). This number varies depending on age, size, health and the activities you are engaged in at the time. If you are athletic, your pulse could run from 40 bpm to 60. While I was in college, I needed oral surgery for the inevitable wisdom teeth removal event. My pulse was 47 bpm and the doc asked if I was athletic. Oh please. “Not really,” I replied. As he asked further questions, it came out that I’d just lost my father to pancreatic cancer and the stress caused the lowering of my heartbeat. Funny, you never know what will impact your health.

For the next few weeks, I get to wear a monitor to record my heart rate. A stinky ol’ monitor. Something that is supposed to go everywhere with me except the shower. Unless I rebel. Monitor schmonitor. It’s a good thing my kids are grown or I would not be a very good role model for them right now.

A friend suggested I get my doctor’s office to show me how to wear the equipment. I tend to be very left-brained about things like this, so when I looked at the instructional diagram, I noticed it showed a drawing of a male. No offense intended, but I really needed to see how a female should be placing the electrodes. We are, after all, built a bit differently. Including a bit more detail in the drawing would have helped. It was NOT anatomically correct.

After my Echo today, I asked about this at the front desk and they said, “Didn’t you read the instructions included?” “Uh huh,” I replied. (Not really, just glanced at them.) They nabbed a nurse who took me back to a room for privacy and as she began taking everything out of its box and wrapper asked me, “Didn’t you read the instructions included?” “Uh huh,” I replied. 🙂 She got me hooked up and I was on my way. Later, when I got ready to call the monitoring company, you can be sure I read each instruction sheet cover to cover before I phoned. It just wasn’t in me to give one more “Uh huh.” Luckily for me, the monitoring company rep was extremely patient with all my embarrassing questions and even shared some of the more colorful questions she’d gotten in the past.

Well, like anything else, I know this too shall pass. Adulting is hard.

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