And the blog goes on….

I’ll date myself and admit that’s a play on the old Sonny and Cher tune from my parents time – get that outta your head now baby boomers!


I thought we were done here. Game/blog over whether I made it or not….But it’s just gotten so damn sad and happy I had to share some highlights from the game.  First of all – go U of M right?! Getting me through experimental trial heart surgery!  The only problem was that they forgot to put the pacemaker in –  the one we clearly discussed and agreed on them doing at the time of my heart surgery. When I asked no one had a reasonable answer as to why they neglected to do it, but it was a just-in-case measure and I was doing great.  In fact, my heart surgeon specifically instructed me to run on a treadmill until I passed out because under no circumstance was my heart going to give me an issue.  My reply was “At like, Planet Fitness with no supervision?” His reply was “Absolutely”. “As a matter of fact, if you tell me next year you ran a marathon but didn’t win, my question will be why not?” So, you tell me that and what am I going to do? Push myself beyond all discomfort and pain possible.  I have zero instinct to compete with others, but when the competition is me, I’ll kill myself.  So there I am in my fifth session of cardio-rehab, coming up to my instructor between each task telling him I am disappointed in myself. Telling him I just just had to shave twenty pounds off of a weight that is usually no problem and was still struggling, and he’s says he believes I am pushing myself to hard to progress too fast. Ok. I get on the next machine and I know something’s not right but I’m on a monitor so I just keep pushing to the music with my eyes closed until I feel a tap on my shoulder. Ten minutes and four chewed aspirins later I’m in an ambulance [to the ER].  Bad news.  When I had my valve replacement twenty six years ago I went into what’s called ‘complete’ or ‘third degree’ heart block – that’s why I went home with a new valve AND a pacemaker.  My heart was right back in the same place. And now, after busting my butt to get strong enough to to prepare our farm for our June wedding, I am post- op and weight restricted, until after the wedding date.  So, now we have moved the wedding out three months to September.

Here are the words I fear uttering.  They lay in wait in the scary basement of my heart and I fear their utterance will give them life.  Do you have words like that? I think we all do, or have, so you’ll know what I mean.  What if…..

What if the beast returns.

And I get stuck in treatment instead of an ivory dress?

What if in this stupid crazy twist of events I don’t live to marry Neil?

I have been working pretty hard on a new mindset that – nothing has any meaning until we assign it meaning. Nothing.  Life is a series of random events and we choose which mean what and then speculate on why they do or do not happen.  It helps, this way of thought.  But this little tiny pill that has situated itself deep in the bottom of me – rolled  under my conscience just out of reach for me to grab it and stomp it out. It’s a strange darkness that is like a light that never flickers out.  Yeah, I’m scared as hell.

In other news, it’s spring, the Robin’s sing, the Forsythia blooms, and I have hair!


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