Hold On Until Fall

My health has continued to decline throughout the summer. POTS is an illness that does not react well to heat and humidity, so this summer has been pretty tough on me. I went to see a specialist a few weeks ago and he gave me a list of things to do to get my condition under control:

• Eat more sodium
• Drink more fluids (not just water)
• Stay cool (literally)
• Keep exercising
• Survive until fall

Sounds like a plan. Fall’s almost here…

Earthquakes, Hurricanes and ERs

Living on the east coast, you normally don’t worry too much about earthquakes. That’s more of a California concern. But this week, imagine our surprise when, at the conclusion of one our meetings at work, the whole building began to shake. We were shocked and not so well trained in identifying the cause of the commotion. Nonetheless, when the fire alarms sounded before the shaking had even fully subsided, we joined the hundreds of others rushing from our office building and into the streets, per our evacuation plan.

As if the earthquake wasn’t enough, I decided to faint while waiting to re-enter the building. Fortunately, all the cell phone circuits were jammed and no one was able to get off a successful 911 call. In addition, my coworkers were fantastic at convincing people I was ok.

I’m sure all the Californians were laughing at us east-coasters…

Of course, in watching the news that evening, I was surprised to learn that another natural disaster was headed our way. This one looked to be more concerning and dangerous and had the ominous name of Hurricane Irene.

Again, Washingtonians pushed the panic button and began to prepare for the worst. Fortunately for me, I already had water and flashlights and batteries and such, so no excursions to the store with hour-long lines were needed.

All week, we looked forward with dreadful anticipation to what Hurricane Irene would bring us.

But I must not have been taking her seriously enough. Because I decided to add one more adventure to my plate on the eve of her arrival. I fainted in a metro station and stopped breathing.

Oops.

This, of course, necessitated a special ride to the nearest emergency room via my personal limo service (aka local ambulance service). And a seven hour stay in the hospital.

To be honest, I was just glad to make it out of this week alive….
And fortunately, in our area, Hurricane Irene didn’t live up to the hype.

The Kindness of Strangers

It’s so interesting to me how very cynical I become in daily life. You listen to the news and 98 percent of it is focused on all the terrible things that happen in the world: crime, abuse, corruption, murder. But I have recently been very touched by the amazing kindness of strangers – to me, to my family, and to each other. Small acts of kindness go a long way, but are seldom recognized.

A few weeks ago, I was on my way to work. It was the typical commute. Except for the fact that all the seats on the subway car I entered were full. Given my propensity for fainting these days, it’s never a good idea for me to stand too long. And on this particular day, I was already feeling quite ill. I had a quick internal debate on whether I should wait for the next train but, as you may know, in the subway system, he who hesitates is lost. So it was a short debate.

I walked to the center of the car, hoping that someone would get off at the next stop and I would get a seat. To my surprise, a gentleman, perhaps noting the concern on my face, offered me his seat. Normally I wouldn’t take it, but as I said, I was already feeling ill and was concerned that I would pass out at any moment. So I thanked him sincerely and took the proffered seat.

What a small, yet amazing gesture of kindness – from someone who doesn’t know me, doesn’t know my story, and probably has no idea the incredible impact he had on me that day!

Making a Difference

I learned something today about making a difference.

It was my day off and I had a million errands to run. Ok, maybe not a million... Nonetheless, I spent a good portion of the day in the car. And my car spent a good portion of the day on toll roads. Being a typical 21st century woman, I was lucky to have any cash on me at all. And coins? Forget it! So I found myself in several long "Full Service" toll lines. The last one was at the beginning of rush hour and was by far the longest line I've ever seen at a toll booth. Hundreds of cars all waiting to hand their cash to one solitary worker, sitting in a sweltering booth.

As I sat waiting, periodically inching my car forward, I was exceedingly grateful for the air conditioning inside the car. And the fact that, for the most part, people were being pretty civil to one another.

Finally I made it to the toll booth. Where I was greeted by a cheerful attendant, who thanked me for my patience, wished me a good day, and hurried me on my way.

As I drove away, I was smiling.

That one person, doing his job, however mundane, with such a cheerful attitude, had an impact on me. He made a difference. He reminded me that we can all make a difference in our own little sphere. It may not be some grand gesture, but even a small thing like a pleasant attitude and a smile can have ripple effects that travel far beyond our immediate sphere.

Tomorrow, I'm going to make a difference.

Bionic Woman

When I was little, I loved the show "The Bionic Woman." I kind of dreamed of having that kind of enhanced efficiency and strength. Although it's not the same thing, I kind of relate to the bionic woman since I have a little computer in me that helps maintain my quality of life and gives me greater strength and energy than I otherwise would have. I love my pacemaker! And I'm so grateful to live in a time with such technology that makes it possible for me to engage in activities I enjoy!

Although you won't see me lifting any cars or jumping any tall buildings, you may catch a glimpse of me getting some serious miles in on my quest to run 1200 miles this year.

My hiatus of the last two months has gotten me a bit behind schedule, but I'm still aiming high.

341 down, 859 to go.

I Did It!

Well, I did it. I went to the beach. And I even swam in the ocean. Never mind that unconsciousness was hovering on the edge of my consciousness ready to take me into dreamland, or rather, the world of nightmares. And never mind that I collapsed on the shore for a while as my racing heart tried to beat itself out of my chest. In the end, I swam. And loved it. And it was worth the aftermath.

Take that, POTS!

No Fear!!

No Fear

A few weeks ago, I was walking to the metro on my way home from work. I wasn't feeling very well and a bright green patch of grass seemed really inviting. I did not, however, succumb to the invitation and continued on my way. However, a short time later, I found myself lying on concrete, surrounded by security officers, paramedics and curious onlookers and wished that perhaps I had chosen a more comfortable resting place - like that inviting piece of lawn. After five years of staying conscious, I had randomly fainted again.

At my worst, before I was diagnosed with Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome (POTS) with Neurally Mediated Hypotension (NMH), I fainted 3-5 times a week. As you can imagine, it was a frightening time. It's never fun to wake up in random places, surrounded by a bunch of complete strangers. Or in an ER. Or in an ambulance with someone jabbing you five times trying to get an IV in you. It makes you afraid to go outside, to do the things you love, even to be alone. All you want to do is stay safe and sound in your room where you can lie down if you feel ill. And you can even pass out, but without an audience.

So, now that it's happened again, I am afraid. I am afraid to go on my long-planned beach vacation over Memorial Day weekend. I am afraid to go in the water. I am afraid of being a burden to my friends. I am afraid of landing in an ER far from home.

How do you overcome fear?

For me, I just have to face it. The day after I took my unscheduled nap on the concrete, I returned to work. I intentionally walked right by the place where it had happened, forcing myself to recognize that everything was ok, that it was a random occurrence, and (hopefully) not prone to happening again anytime soon.

Now, before I go on my morning runs, I have a new routine: Gather all my medical information into a little plastic baggie I will carry in my hand, drink my water and gatorade to ensure hydration, and stand at the door and repeat to myself over and over "NO FEAR!"

As for the beach? "NO FEAR" is my mantra!