It’s been five weeks since an emergency room doctor said to me, “You’re having a heart attack.”
Hearing those words didn’t have a lot of power at that moment because of the pain and agony and I was more interested in actions to make it all go away. There was no thinking of death or damage, just a singular focus on feeling better. But since that night a lot of different thoughts have percolated into consciousness and changed the discussions in my head toward the expected recognition of a brush with death, a new appreciation of mortality, and a heightened sense of time as if I can see my own sand rushing through an hourglass.
Riding to work last week I noticed myself monitoring my body — measuring the ease of breathing, noting any unexplained twinge or riffle in function, reaching to determine any sense of heart rate or rhythm. It lasted moments and was gone as the sky seemed to brighten for an instant or a breath of wind moved over me.
I know people who have been overwhelmed by these assessments and evaluations to the point that their lives are reduced to a quiet waiting for the next cardiac event. It’s certain to come, there’s just no way to know when. So far these trains of thought have been more curiosity than anxiety and haven’t intruded in any real way on the decisions I make.
Or so I tell myself.
I rode in a hurry today on Interstate 99 — 70 mph on a hundred mile there and back again ride to deliver Father’s Day greetings. I did it because I wanted to know if I could. Moving over the road I imagined hours and hours on the superslab crossing county lines and state lines in an imaginary trip to nowhere. And the Vespa kept hitting the rev limiter reminding me we had limits.
In cardiac rehab, so far I’m not hit a rev limiter as they push my heart and body on machines to help me know my limits. It’s part of my post-heart attack riding.
And just like a ride on the Vespa, I’m learning that lessons of the body, mind and spirit are important for the ride — on the road, and through life…
Hi Steve. Great post. I really like the metaphor of the rev limiter. Mine has certainly lowered over the past five years with progressive arthritis, ageing and post accident re -evaluation. Still, I am riding, pumping iron and enjoying many of my long term activities with greater attention and focus…at times.
How easy it would be for anyone having had your experience to slip into some sort of ruminative paralysis. Not living because of too much fear/anxiety to live. Such experiences can remind us that we need to pay more attention and get back on track integrating our mind, body and spirit. Why is that so hard for us to do naturally? It seems almost more natural to be fragmented and unbalanced.
Wishing you the best with figuring it all out and hearing about what you are learning. Your post heart attack approach to life sounds well considered, measured and very sensible and likely to ensure much good life to come. Best Wishes
Lots of things can conspire to slow us down. For me, my brain will stop me before my body actually will. But at the same time I have great resources of willpower — just not always focused correctly. The fragmentation you highlight is part of that. Finding focus, a center, or the path, whatever one calls it, is a challenge to locate and a challenge to maintain.
For now I’m taking things slow and trying to make more deliberate decisions. In that process I’ve found a lot of rocky personality traits that need some modification!
Thanks for sharing your thoughts on this topic. I appreciate them.
Wow, five weeks already? I am glad you are doing better and enjoying riding.
Everything comes with risks whether it is riding or simply living. Live every day like you want to, not in fear of another cardiac event.
“It’s certain to come, there’s just no way to know when.”
This would infer that there are no other threats to mortality that may precede the next heart attack. Not so my friend. There could be different and more trying problems just around the corner. It is a hard decision to decide on one’s mode of demise especially while there are so many out there who would thwart making dying pleasant or perhaps even a personal choice.
Yet again could well see 100; if not on the speedo then in life. You are doing all the right things to enable this.
I am reminded of Dorothy Parker’s poem titled “Suicide”.
Razors pain you
Rivers are damp
Acids stain you
Drugs give cramp
Guns are unlawful
Nooses give
Gas smells awful
You might as well live!
Wise words Mike. Threats to mortality are all around us from birth. Just seems they become more apparent with age, or after a crisis. Regardless, continuing the journey is the important part regardless of whether a person knows where they’re headed.
Interesting poem. Dorothy Parker has a unique way of seeing things.
Steve diet and moderate exercise became my Dad’s regimen after his heart attack.
That was forty+ years ago. At 86 his memory’s shot, but his heart is still motoring on.
Forget about your heart, but keep your eyes peeled for deer 😉
Got it — keep my eye out for deer. And liquid manure spills!
Life is about us constantly hitting the rev limiter and pushing forward. I have been feeling my mortality a bit lately and there are things I am changing to ensure my health is better. Keep rolling on the throttle!
Things can become quite simple I suppose. Just stand up each morning and start walking. Everything else will follow.
Dang Steve, you just described the “heightened awareness” I feel whenever I have repair work done on the rig…then I ride for a while listening for the noises that presaged the failure, wonder if “new” noises are harbingers of doom, and wait for the next failure.
Are you going to get one of those apps with accompanying monitor to render all kinds of medical stats on the fly?
I suppose you have to develop a protective “heightened” awareness if you are going to own and ride a URAL. It’s probably not unlike worries surrounding a heart attack.
All I have in terms of physical monitoring is the Instant Heart Rate app on my iPhone. It used the camera to determine heart rate. Works well and is really accurate. No plans to do anything else.
Hi Steve, glad to know you’re mending.
Rick
I’m doing well — diet, exercise, stress reduction. All that’s left is get more sleep!
Hi Steve,
This blog is a beautiful thing. Not only because of your writing and insight, but also because of the encouragement, inspiration, gentle prodding and love that your followers give you. Lovely to witness in an often hard and uncaring world.
I too would add my encouragement in your post heart attack rehab days. While it’s often easier to give up when physical crisis calls, the alternative isn’t very pleasant. Push on, I say! Stuff your days with things to do and keep on keeping on.
I probably wouldn’t be riding a Metro at all if it weren’t for my husband. He keeps me younger than I really am! So, yay for encouraging words and actions!
Take care, Annie
Thank you for the kind words about Scooter in the Sticks. It continues to be a labor of love and a tool to explore what’s going on in my head. I’m glad it resonates for others at times.
Lots of encouragement coming my way and it does make things easier. I really appreciate it. So as you suggest, I’ll keep on keeping on!