Heart

I wasn’t well in March and everyone (me included) thought it was a one-off. Then in April I fainted again and everyone started worrying again, me most of all.

After seeing lots of basically competent but not as caring GPs at our local surgery, I finally saw our GP. She knows us inside out – she did my and the girls’ post-birth checks and was the first person to whom I admitted that I was struggling when it all got too much for me a few years ago. She did my blood pressure which was fine, listened tomy heart for an extended period of time, frowned…and repeated the exercise. She reckoned she could hear something in my heartbeat that she didn’t like the sound of and referred me to the hospital.

I saw The Nicest Consultant In The World last week and he arranged for me to have a battery of tests the same day. The EGC indicated that I don’t have an arrhythmia and the heart ultrasound revealed nothing concerning, although it confirmed that I actually have a heart, contrary to popular belief.

I was then wired up to a heart monitor for 24 hours, in an attempt to capture data on the palpitations I’ve been experiencing at night. I had written them off as a combination of stress and bad dreams, but apparently they can indicate a heart problem and I was too stupid to realise. Of course, the night I was wired up I slept soundly and without any issues. Sod’s law!

So, I looks like my heart is fine and it supports my pet theory that I hit the wall, stress-wise in March and April and the collapses were my body’s way of telling me to chill out,  cross-stitch and smell the roses. My counsellor would be so proud…

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