Tag Archives: congestive heart failure

Living Well with Chronic Illness

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Living with a chronic illness is hard. Living well with a chronic illness is even harder. It takes mental and emotional strength. Courage and resilience. A sense of humor. Hope. A positive attitude. Adaptability. Faith helps. So do emotional support and community. And a reason for being.

I think people who live well with chronic illness ought to be celebrated like Olympic athletes. Their unsung accomplishments are remarkable.

Think of it: Beginning each day anew requires grit, determination, and perseverance to push through pain, illness, limitations, depression, bodies that don’t work well, brain fog, disappointment, or depression. Then, the next day they do it all over again.

It takes remarkable courage, as well, to keep moving toward an uncertain future whose only certainty is that things may get worse. It takes perseverance to devise new ways to do what we did before and can no longer do in the same way. It takes a sense of humor to laugh at ourselves and the ridiculous and to lighten the load.  

In addition to all that, it takes emotional strength to let go of what we have lost and move beyond our grief, and wisdom to know the proper balance between telling others our struggles and keeping them to ourselves.

Those with chronic illness demonstrate unseen strength and courage, silently doing things every day that others neither see nor imagine. And those who do this with graciousness, kindness, and good humor are even more remarkable. There ought to be awards given to such people.  

With that said, if you have a chronic condition or long-term illness, claim the strength, courage, adaptability, and resilience that gets you through and makes joy possible. These are superpowers. When you fall as you will, remember that this has happened before, and you got back up. You can, again. You’re a survivor and a role model.

Lastly, if you know someone who lives with a chronic condition, notice the silent challenges and accomplishments of their everyday life; their strength, courage, adaptability, and perseverance. Be inspired by the model of their life and tell them so. Be grateful to know such people. Those who live well with a chronic illness are a gift to this generation and those to come.

My Heart Failure Returned

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The bad news is that my heart failure returned and needs quick intervention. The good news is that the return of heart failure made me eligible for an extra-high-tech pacemaker developed for treating heart failure. I spent much of last week in the hospital for cardiac tests and a pacemaker.

This is not the usual type of pacemaker with which most people are familiar and that has already saved millions of lives around the world. It is a combination ICD and CRT-D pacemaker about the size of a half-dollar coin.

ICD technology is like carrying an emergency room in one’s chest.  If the heart goes so far out of rhythm as to cause a fatal event, the ICD provides a hefty shock to re-stabilize the rhythm. (Imagine paddles in a hospital room reduced to chip size.)

Because the contractions of my right and left ventricles are not synchronized with each other, the CRT-D technology sends an electric signal with each beat that corrects this and makes them beat as one (how romantic). In addition, the constant re-synchronization often remodels the heart muscle over time toward that of a normal heart.

My sudden flurry of medical attention began after I sought my doctor’s approval to resume an exercise regimen.  “Not without a cardiac work-up,” replied my primary care physician.  Long story short, a stress test with echocardiogram revealed my heart function has declined dramatically.  I spent several days in the hospital being monitored before I was ready for the super-duper pacemaker.  My arteries are still nearly pristine and the pacemaker should restore some degree of confidence and restored quality of life. The cardiologists think I’m a good candidate to receive greatest benefit from this particular device.

I’m resting and recovering at home now.  Mark has been an excellent nurse and as always, a great cook.  I’m forbidden to do any kind of housework, including washing dishes, loading the dishwasher, making the bed, doing laundry, or lifting more than a pound with either hand.  Bummer.  I wonder how long I can string out the limitations on housework?

Three cardiologists marveled last week at how well I’ve managed my cardiomyopathy and heart failure for thirteen years.  They are pleased with how faithful I’ve been to exercise and lifestyle changes, and my good quality of life.  They’re also surprised by well my heart is doing beyond the issues that made the pacemaker device necessary.  They also explained that my being short-of-breath and tiring easily has not been because I was a lazy and slothful.  It was because my heart function was slipping.

I’m pleased and hopeful.  I appreciate your thoughts and prayers.

An Impossible Dream Come True

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For those of us who live in Pasadena, the Rose Bowl is more than just a stadium or a championship game of American football on New Years Day.  It’s also a park, picnic grounds, soccer fields, an aquatic center, a golf course, and a three-mile bike/walk/run lane that beckons us to get healthy and enjoy life.  I used to “walk the Rose Bowl” often, but haven’t in a long time.  For over ten years, I’ve dreamed of walking that three-mile loop again.  I finally did it!

To be honest, if I hadn’t been a bit crazy with stress that Saturday morning two weeks ago and not thinking quite straight, the dream would still be in the future.  But, hey, the world would be dreadfully boring without a little wild craziness in it.  Right?

The weather was too glorious waste on a treadmill and my usual hike along the Arroyo seemed boring.  I went in search of a new venue and the Rose Bowl called my name.  I promised myself I would limit my walk to 40 minutes, and quieted the inner voice tempting me to walk all three miles.

At the 20 minute mark when I should have turned back, I was on the west side of the stadium, with my car on the east.  I convinced myself that, since I had already walked this far, I should finish the loop.  How bad could it be?  Besides, if I retraced my steps, I’d have to walk in the sun instead of the shade that I knew was up ahead.  Surely shade would be easier to take than the sun, even if the distance was longer.  (I forgot I still had to walk uphill in the sun to reach the shade.)

My stress-addled, oxygen-impaired, and dream-crazed brain used the fuzziest thinking imaginable to justify my decision to keep going:  I usually walk 40 minutes at an average speed of 2.7 mph for a total of 1.8 miles, but will be able to complete an extra 1.2 miles in  just an extra 10 minutes while increasing my speed only slightly.  And . . . since 50 minutes is just a little longer than 40 minutes, I will be fine and not overly exhausted.  Really?  I plowed ahead.

A few minutes later, a fleeting moment of sanity weaseled into my brain and I phoned my husband for a ride back to my car.  He promised to pick me up as soon as possible, but was still in the mountains with our dogs.  He headed back to his truck right away to get me.

“Why sit and wait for him here?  Go a little farther, and a little farther,” screamed the voices of temptation and perseverance inside my head.  Hubby arrived as soon as he could–just after I finished walking two more miles and reached my car.

DisneyCheshireCat[1]The Cheshire Cat could not have worn a broader smile than I.  My 10-year dream came true. I punched my fist in the air and looked skyward, “I did it. I did it.  I did it.”

When I told a friend what I’d done, he suggested I work towards a 5K (3.1 miles) charity walk.  Great idea.  I have a new dream to strive for.   I started training for a 5K by walking two miles thee times per week. God willing and the crick don’t rise, I’ll keep going.  Cross your fingers.

Impossible dreams don’t always come true, but as Cinderella and the Fairy Godmother sing in one of my favorite songs, “Impossible things are happening every day.”

*Cheshire Cat from Disney’s “Alice in Wonderland”