The Heart Knows

My beating heart and my busy mind will forever be in an inextricable dance, an interminable conversation. I have accepted it as my post-SCAD gift. The world praises the connection of the heart and mind in song and poetry and the bond between the two is venerated as a symbol of being a whole being. Some people walk a long path to achieve the connection. Therapy or drugs. Art or prayer. There are many ways humans find to get there. Perhaps there is no faster way to get there than to have your previously healthy heart suddenly and inexplicably go awry. In a flash, the two become partners in living, companions and guardians of each other. In this, then, as SCAD survivors, we may have become truly blessed. 

The other night as I tried to fall asleep, the dynamic duo was chattering away again. They were getting a little worked up. The heart started it, and started it for a good reason.

Boom-boom. Boom-boom. Pounding away. Louder when I turned to my left side; softer when I turned to my right. 

"Oh, good heavens, now what?"

"Something's not right!" The heart pounded.

"I think it's anxiety, with the first days of the school year starting and all. We shall chill," said the mind. I eventually dozed, but sometime in the night the chatter started again.

"I'm telling you, something's not right!" Boom-boom. Boom-boom.
.
"Go to sleep!"

But the heart continued with its higher-than-normal resting pulse around 90 - 96 bpm.  So I got my stethoscope out. Another post-SCAD gift was my interest in cardiac anatomy, EKGs, and listening to heartbeats. So I purchased a stethoscope from Amazon.com. Everyone in the house has been listened to, from the Boxer with his thunderous rhythm, to the old Boston Terrier with the swishy syncopation of his mitral valve prolapse, to the bearded dragon and his rapid reptilian pitter-patter.  Mostly, I am soothed by the sound of my own heart, its beautiful, steady beat and I listen in gratitude for its healing.

The other night, though, that beautiful, steady beat was indeed faster than normal. Though I felt oh-so-tired from those first days of meeting new students and starting back into the classroom routines, my heart sounded as if it was gearing up to run a marathon or it was a little bird that had just returned from a long flight.

"I'm telling you...." pounded the heart.

"Ok, I'm listening." Mind went into action. The usual run-down of questions: Pain or pressure in the chest? Arm? Jaw? Nope. Breathing ok? Yes. But I was hot and a little foggy. I thought to take my temperature and there I found the problem. 101 degrees Fahrenheit. A fever.

Fun biological fact: heart rate increases10 beats per minute per degree centigrade. I found it after a lot of googling. 

Quickly, very quickly, all the elements of your typical viral infection started: body ache, chills and (I'll spare you the details) the gastro-intestinal events. For the first time ever, I had to take a sick day during the first week of school. 

SCAD survivors, you understand -- the hyper-vigilance we live with, the all-consuming alliance of heart and mind. Sometimes it is lovely, a metaphorical marriage, wise, perceptive, intuitive of all things seen and felt. In this case the alliance proved practical. This was the first time I have been just normally sick with a plain ol' "bug" since I have had my SCAD. No need to panic but I appreciated the tip-off that something was wrong. 

"I told you so," said the heart.

And she was right.