Well, March is over.
On March 1st, I happily watched a gymnastics meet and refreshed my weather app, excited that I would get to race a half marathon in decent weather for once.
I can’t believe that was one month ago.
Apple Health sent me reminders this morning that were oh so helpful: “Your activity level has changed, Sarah.” In this age of AI, you would think that my phone would know something was up beyond slothfulness. But apparently not.
All that said, I am very (VERY) ready for the dawn of a new month. I hope I can take this fresh start and begin to move from the shellshocked phase of the past few weeks towards finding a new normal. New routines, new self-care practices, new outlook on life. I recognize this isn’t going to be an instant pivot, but I hope to be able to gradually make progress.
One of the biggest losses I have is my own self-image as a very energetic and hardy person. I didn’t really realize this was how I saw myself, but now that I’ve lost some of that I feel this loss deeply. I feel disappointed by my body’s failings (or maybe I shouldn’t even call them that?). But I know that just because I need to treat myself more gently doesn’t make me any less.
I am still learning and figuring things out. Hoping to explore some lower impact exercise options, I tried to go to a barre intro class on Sunday. It didn’t end well. The class was great and didn’t feel too strenuous (I would call it light to moderate strength, with a fair number of breaks?), but about 20 (!) minutes in I looked down at my apple watch between exercises and saw a HR of 145. Puzzled, I started modifying and took a break . . . and the number kept going up. I stepped out of the room when it hit 150 and continued to rise while I wasn’t doing anything. My pulse was fast and my attempts at EKG tracings on my watch look garbage-y (lot of noise, or was it arrhythmia? hard to know). Ultimately it peaked at 165 and gradually came down. I didn’t get shocked or anything, so I doubt I was in full on VT. Something did feel like it was happening well beyond my control, though.
It was humbling and scary and honestly felt more embarrassing than I expected it to, even though I explained to the instructor at the start of the class that I had a new heart issue. I don’t know if it was an arrhythmia, panic (though this doesn’t make total sense to me – I was not feeling panicky until I started to see the numbers rise even when I stopped moving), or what but clearly I have to truly acknowledge some very significant limitations right now. Maybe this will change if I end up on medication (? beta blockade) and obviously all of this will be discussed with the doctors I will be seeing in the coming weeks.
For my non-fiction pick, I am reading When Things Fall Apart right now by Pema Chodron. It’s based on Buddhist teachings, and one of the major themes is not trying to avoid or fight against suffering, pain, or negativity but rather to accept them and meet them head on, both during the practice of meditation and in real life. It is perfect for right now and I am interested in deepening my own meditation practice and moving towards more presence in my own life.
Whatever is going on with me, it is futile to deny it, ignore it, bristle against it. I can certainly hope for the best, that I will be able to live a long life minimally affected by any cardiac troubles, and able to do the things that are truly important to me. But I can’t and shouldn’t waste energy fighting it. I need to accept this new part of my life and my body’s different needs.
I also want to work on my patience. As noted previously, I tend to struggle with waiting for results, getting an explanation, and the like. My head gets stuck in the future, and it’s a fine place to explore but not a great place to live. My genetic results returned; I will not go into detail (a bit too personal!) but to summarize, they didn’t really bring that much clarity and instead generated more questions. I am recognizing that nothing is going to feel “certain” or “done” for a while, and maybe ever. And I don’t want to miss out on all sorts of everyday experiences focused on some theoretical point in the future when “we’ve figured it all out!”, because that day might never come, anyway.
I sat down to write this post thinking I might get into April goals, but all of this came out instead. I will save those for later in the week, since I haven’t really identified priorities in my head yet, anyway.
One day at a time, and I guess my biggest goal this month is to bring myself back to the present, at least most of the time.
26 Comments
Sorry to hear exercise didn’t go well for you, hope it will improve when your medical condition is more stable.
I’ve just finished When things fall apart yesterday, I found it on my TBR screenshots on my last visit to the library, just in time for me, since I’m going through some tough time.
I’m still not sure how much of it I’ll be able to incorporate into my life, but slowly I started to practice some of the meditation practices.
Hi Sarah,
You are handling these difficult life circumstances with a lot of grace and perspective. Not to sound cheesy but I wanted you to know that it has been helpful to me in going through my own hard things to hear your perspective so thank you❤️.
I want to echo this too. I have so much admiration for the way you have continued to share your processing of your new medical obstacles. The graceful moments, the not graceful moments – it is so helpful to hear about how you reason through it all and helps me with my own hard things as well. Just really wanted to express gratitude for your continued sharing (but not as pressure to keep sharing if that doesn’t feel right at some point in the future too!) Hang in there – long time reader and have thought of you often in the last month and hope today is a good day for you.
thank you ❤️❤️❤️
I’ve read that book!!!! It’s great- I should reread it. So… I totally, totally get your feeling of loss. We all have very strong ideas about “who we are,” like I’m a person who can push through anything, or I’m a go-getter, or whatever. Maaaaybe… this incident (and new way of life) is an opportunity for you for (I know… cringe) spiritual awakening. You’re forced to drop these beliefs and examine who you really are, deep down inside. I know- you’re probably thinking “Spiritual awakening is great and all, but I’d really rather just have my old life back” lol. I think you’re on the right track with the reading you’re doing.
HUGS. All will be well… eventually.
I am very guilty of living in the future at the expense of the present. I’m taking notes on what you said to try to get my own life figured out.
Here is to every minute of the daily joy that will come between now and the doctor’s visits in the coming weeks.
“I guess my biggest goal this month is to bring myself back to the present, at least most of the time.”
This is so beautiful, Sarah. I believe if more people could live this way, the world would be much more at peace, and certainly those individuals would be (I’m talking to myself too, here!)
A new month, a new chapter in your life…I pray that with each day you will feel more at home in your circumstances in a way that brings you peace and leads to joy.
Hugs. Wish I could take it all away from you, but so proud of your honesty and resilience and you ARE still energetic and hardy and all the things you were before your cardiac event. You are an incredibly engaged and attentive mother, a valued content creator and voice in multiple online spaces, a doctor, reader, friend etc. Still, I realize nothing feels the way it did a month ago and that’s hard.
This was beautiful and wrenching and so relatable all at once. Sending you such hugs. Thank you for sharing with us all.
I am sorry to hear that your genetics results didn’t bring clarity. My observation (in both personal and professional life), and what I have told families frequently, is that uncertain results can be a harder pill to swallow than unequivocally ‘bad’ results (confirmatory diagnosis or the like) because at least unequivocal results often provide a plan and a path forward. Existing in the in between is much harder, and it sounds like that’s where you are now in a variety of contexts.
Also, I’m essentially a former runner at this point. Re-inventing fitness identity is still an ongoing process, though the sense of loss has lessened and become less acute with time and finding alternative activities (though that’s a trial-and-error process…). I predict you will settle in but it’ll probably take longer than you think/want.
No good advice, but validation – perhaps – that it all feels tough because it is tough. Big hugs!
“One of the biggest losses I have is the self-image of myself as an energetic and hardy person.” Oof—when I read this it really hit home for me. I feel the same way and there have been times in my life where I’ve had to grieve this loss. Both of my postpartum periods were like this. Maybe it would help to think of this time in your life a bit like postpartum, minus the baby snuggles (but also the sleep deprivation)? I know there is this idea that we eventually get our bodies “back,” whatever that means, but truly, they are not the same body after growing and birthing a baby.
Uncertainties are hard! Sending you good thoughts, healing vibes, and hopefully a bit more clarity with your specialist appointment.
TOTALLY get the postpartum parallel (esp when immediately post op – just felt very vulnerable/fragile and reminded me o f that time). Thank you!!!
My thoughts have been with you Sarah, ever since your cardiac event. Your insights about loss of self and your change in self-image really resonate with me. Almost 10 years ago I received a cancer diagnosis out of the blue that thankfully was fairly easily treated, but left me with a chronic condition requiring medication and lifestyle changes. I struggled A LOT with feeling like I was no longer “a healthy person”. Because healthy people don’t require medications and extra doctor visits, right? And if I was not a “healthy person” then I must be an “unhealthy person” – because I had always seen these two labels as mutually exclusive. But with time and therapy, I’ve been able to get out of this way of thinking. I now see health as a spectrum and multifaceted. I might be challenged in some areas, but excel in others. I now see “a healthy person” as someone who strives to live the best life they can physically, mentally, emotionally with the cards they been dealt.
My cancer was a rare type for how young I was when diagnosed (24). I’ve spent a lot of time, money, and stress trying to answer the question “why did this happen?”. I don’t think I’ll ever totally get an answer or will I ever truly accept that I may never have the answer. It took time, but at one point I decided enough was enough. I was ready to move on and focus on my future and put this life changing health event in my past. But like I said, it took time.
I hope these thoughts are helpful. You are not alone, and have this community you’ve built that is here for you. Take care!
thank you so much Claudia, and thank you for sharing what you went through. I love this part: “I now see “a healthy person” as someone who strives to live the best life they can physically, mentally, emotionally with the cards they been dealt.”
Sarah, you are incredibly resilient! You’ve handled a major health issue with a lot of grace. That is certainly hardiness! As I was reading your post, the idea of group therapy came up. I know you have talked about starting therapy to process the initial cardiac event and ongoing health issues…but I am thinking you might get a lot out of connecting with others who also have chronic health issues. Maybe you’ve already looked into this, but I wanted to suggest it just in case. Thank you for sharing with us! You are doing great with a tough situation <3
Yes I think group therapy would be great and even a walking group with other people that have cardiac issues could be beneficial, exercise plus social!
It can be very hard to process an event like this while life goes on as normal for everyone else, and you are trying to rejoin it but so much has changed for you that you can’t just slot back in. It will be different for everyone but it could take 6 months, a year or longer to process this. Take time to do. The important part is under control. Don’t try to make big changes right now; take time to explore and see where it takes you ( I know that must be hard for a planner). Art therapy can be helpful for this.
There are some cases where genetic analyses give a clear cut answer but for a lot there is uncertainty.
I can imagine it’s hard for you as a planner, and as someone who loved running this is a challenging time, but 6 months is nothing in the larger scheme of things. For now, why not do a daily walk, enjoy time with the kids and Josh and build from there. Take time for you ( I know this might be hard when exercise was such a part of your life; maybe music, art, plans for next book (planning in the face of uncertainty 😉) in the meantime?). See where you are in 6 months time – things will likely be different then.
Thanks for keeping us posted and sharing so much.
PS Claudia that is a great outlook to have. We sometimes forget that everyone has struggles in one way or another.
Sarah, your continued vulnerability and honesty through this experience is not only touching but valuable for anyone who is navigating big or unwanted change. I can understand how your self-image has suffered a blow in a couple of ways–not only the “healthy” person, but the “in control” person has has to readjust. And it has been only a month. That’s a lot to take in. I’m clearly not the only one who is thinking of you and wishing you well–the comments section is like a big hug!
It really is. thank you!!!!
One additional thought that I haven’t seen mentioned is using vigorous exercise for mental health management. I don’t know if that’s relevant for you, but exercise is my #1 mental health tool to combat anxiety. When I’ve lost use of that tool, it has really sent me into a tailspin that was (of course!) hard to get out of because I’d lost my usual method for handling difficulties. I saw it even more clearly in retrospect.
Oh i am 100% sure there is an element of that – probably why I am grasping for other alternatives.
I’m wondering if a sport would be more beneficial than exercise? A sport can be a hobby. I have never seen exercise as a hobby, just something we have to do though I can’t do much with my back and knees though I ride my horse and it brings me great joy. I’m trying to think of sports that don’t raise your heart rate and the only ones I can think of would be tennis and horse riding. Maybe a question for chatgtp??!!?
I hope that book is helpful, I have found it extremely so in my own life.
Oh, Sarah. It is so hard to view yourself differently, it is so hard when you have a version of yourself and that version is now different. Yes, you’re the same you, but it’s different and it’s hard. It’s okay to mourn the loss of that self. It’s okay to be really really sad. It’s okay to grieve. You can be grateful that you are here and for modern medicine, while at the same time being really sad that your life is changing in such a big way.
One of my girlfriends and my yoga teaching mentor had breast cancer, and she was just the epitome of health. A yoga teacher! A runner! A vegan! All the things! And she felt so betrayed by her body, it was a really difficult thing for her to overcome mentally. But sometimes, honestly, shit just happens and it’s not your fault, and it’s not your body’s fault. It’s just shit that happens.
There’s a big difference between accepting that things happen from an intellectual point of view – this happened to you, you are doing everything you can for it – and accepting it emotionally. The latter is so much harder. It’s a huge journey that you’re starting on.
this is beautifully put Nicole. I felt that way when I was the first in the family to get covid, which is much smaller scale of what your friend and sarah go through. but i can understand the frustration with ourselves when we think we are leading a healthy lifestyle and shit happens. not fair thus hard to accept emotionally, but eventually to “enjoy” life we still need to adjust our thoughts to move forward.
Gah, this is all so hard and so much to process! I can relate to how you are feeling on some level since I have a chronic illness that has limited what I’m able to do to some extent – but it pales in comparison to what you are experiencing. Being a runner was such a huge part of your identity. It’s hard to feel like yourself when you lose a core part of yourself.
That is frustrating that the genetic results weren’t clear, though. I hate lack of clarity! I’m glad your next appt isn’t too far off (but also not soon enough of course!) and you have an appt with Hopkins. Hopefully that will give you far more clarity about a future treatment plan/limitations. I am so bummed to hear that Barre increased your heart rate too much! That is my favorite workout our of yoga, pilates, and barre! 🙁
Uncertainty is hard. Not being in control is hard. Waiting for answers (that might never come) is hard. I recently learned (once again) how the medical field is so knowledgeable and also in its infancy in understanding the human body. Every body is different, some symptoms fit into a certain pattern (that lead to a clear diagnosis) and so many do not. I hope you can continue to take it one day at a time, listen to your body, and advocate for yourself as best as you can.