The Sound of a Living Heart

Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it – Proverbs 4:23

Two weeks have passed since I last wrote.  Sorry about that.  With two trips in two weeks, life has been busy.  I’ve been enjoying seeing new things and soaking up this glorious life I’ve been given.  And I’ve been sweating – a lot.  It’s so hot here.  Fall is coming soon, right?

I’ve been thinking about writing a lot recently, and I’m thinking about trying something new with the blog.  I’ve been going back and forth over what I want it to be; everything I’ve read and listened to about writing and owning an online business (which this definitely is not – yet), is that it needs to have a clear function.  But right now, I feel pulled in a lot of directions.  Originally, this space was to help keep family and friends up to date with all we’re seeing and doing.  Maybe, one day, it could be a source of income for our family (people do that all the time).  And, maybe most of all, I like writing.  I want to share my experiences and have a positive impact on whoever might stop by to read.

With all those things in mind, I think I’ve had it in my head that my writing has to be structured a certain way.  I tend to write about what I did and saw without much emotion.  I always liked writing reports and papers in school.  But maybe that’s not what I’m supposed to be doing.  I’ve done that for a year now, and I have the same few readers I had a year ago (who I love and appreciate – hey mom and dad!).  So, instead, I’m going to try a few things – well, one big thing.

I’m going to try being more of a storyteller, putting more emotion and heart into what I post.  I suspect this will be a bit of a challenge for me – I like recording what I’ve done, largely keeping emotion out of it.  Even my journaling is like this.  You’ll probably still see the “best things to do in _____,” because that’s helpful for me on a personal level.  But I recently read on another travel blog, no one is going to take my advice on what to do or where to eat over the big names like Lonely Planet or TripAdvisor.  And she’s right – I’m no expert on Japan or anything else.  So, instead, I’m going to try and write more posts like this one.

I have lots to say about my recent trips to Aomori and Mt. Fuji, but for some reason, the words won’t come yet.  Things need a little more time to sit.  Instead, I wanted to speak about something that happened to me a few years ago.  It was one of the stories I told Vicki as we trekked through the volcanic landscape of Mt. Fuji.  It’s something I still think about, although maybe not as often as I should, and it had a profound effect on how I now move through life.

Everything Changes…

As some of you know, but probably some of you don’t, 2017 was the most stressful year of my life to date.  I uprooted myself and moved from my hometown for the first time at the age of 29.  Husband deployed.  My new job wasn’t a good fit, but for multiple reasons, I felt obligated to stick with it.  Adjusting to military life proved to be much more difficult than I’d expected.  I thought I was prepared.

Ultimately, it all culminated towards the end of the year in some unexpected health issues.  I was the sickest I’ve ever been – for weeks almost anything I ate gave me intense stomach cramps.  Eating put me on edge; I was constantly waiting for symptoms to appear.  Eventually, I got to a point where I didn’t want to eat anything at all, and my weight sank to a sickly 135 pounds.  Having been a pretty healthy child and adult, I didn’t know how to navigate the physical symptoms I was having, so at the recommendation of a co-worker, I made an appointment with a doctor in town.

Because I was coming in as a new patient, the doctor ordered some tests to get a baseline for my health.  These included some pretty standard things, like blood work, but also some things I’d never had done, like an EKG and a chest x-ray.  At our first meeting, the doctor expressed some concerns about the results of these tests, which weren’t even a part of my primary complaint.  The EKG had come back with an abnormality – she was referring me to a cardiologist for a more in-depth look.

…In a Heartbeat

For a month or more, all I did was go to the doctor.  I lost hours of my life to commuting and waiting.  Getting an answer for my abnormal EKG was no easy task, but one test I will never forget.  For one of many cardiologist appointments, after being led back to a secondary waiting area, a woman collected me, leading me into an office that seemed longer than it was wide.  A white curtain separates me from the outside world; I’m given a hospital gown and instructed to change.  Having done a bit of research beforehand, I was aware of the basics of the test.  An echocardiogram doesn’t hurt – it’s much like a sonogram on a pregnant woman.  I was as relaxed as I could be, anticipating results and hoping it wasn’t bad news.

After I finished changing, and the woman conducting the test instructs me to lay down on my left side.  I am in full view of the monitor, although I’m not quite sure what it’s showing.  Then I see it – a gray, grainy image of my heart.  And I can hear it beating.  I can hear the sound of my blood pumping through at that very second.  To an extent, I can watch the blood leaving my heart, heading to the rest of my body, keeping me alive.

It was a very surreal moment, watching my body do this automatic thing I had no control over.  I stared in awe, stunned at the cadence of the beating, not too fast or too slow.  Regular.  Consistent.  The lines on the monitor move in time with the sound.  I can watch the muscle relax and contract as it was happening inside of me.

Every Heartbeat Bears Your Name

I still, even years later, am in awe of what I witnessed in that doctor’s office.  Ultimately, my irregular EKG seems simply to be a part of who I am.  But without this irregularity, I wouldn’t have gotten the chance to see something few people ever get to see in their lifetime – their own heart beating.  I wonder how lives would change if more people could sit in the wonder that is their living and breathing body?  Would we take more time to shower ourselves and our families with love?  Would we be more generous?  More forgiving?

Although the events of my life from that formative but challenging year are just a blip on the screen of my life, they profoundly affected me.  I would not be the same person I am today without those experiences (although I’d also be ok if they didn’t come around again).  I know that year, and that moment in the doctor’s office changed me.  Watching my heart move in and out, sending a literal life force through my body, reminds me of how fragile life is.  An organ the size of a fist is keeping me alive.  It could stop beating at any moment and there would be nothing I could do about it.

It seems a little cliché and silly, but this experience has profoundly affected the way I move through life.  I try and take more time to pay attention to the world around me and in me.  I celebrate small things.  I’m making more time for myself and taking better care of myself.  I want this life to be something worth writing about, and I want to have something to say.