On September 7, 2017, I went for my routine follow-up appointment with my heart failure cardiologist. I was a bit nervous as my blood tests results had some readings that hadn’t been within the “normal” range the last few times I had a BMP (basic metabolic panel, is actually 8 tests that measure your kidney function, fluid balance, and blood sugar). We usually concentrate on two areas: blood sodium and potassium. I had been communicating via the “patient portal” and passing messages back and forth through the nurse’s voicemail to adjust medicines accordingly, so I was wondering if we had gotten back to where I should be. This was the first time I had seen my doctor in person for a while.

A lot had happened over the last six months that she didn’t know about, in which I was eager to share. There were two major events that had the potential to cause stress for a healthy person without heart problems, let alone a heart patient. Despite all the news I was ready to enlighten her on how I handled the situations and despite all that I had gone through, I still felt good.

My Dad had been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer near the end of March and died just four weeks later. During that four-week period, I was back and forth to his house (a little over an hour away from me) many, many times and spending days and nights with him.

Each week brought on new issues that made it more clear that this would soon be over. I saw clearly he would not be able to do much for himself at all in the near future. He again reenforced that God is good even when you have to suffer.

Throughout about an unexpected three-month journey, I managed to take care of my Dad the best I could, planned his funeral with him, talked about my future without him here, welcomed tons of his friends and old customers into his home to visit, moved him to the Dayton VA Hospice center, cleaned out his house (with memories still stacked sky-high from my mom’s death seven years prior), sold unwanted furniture and household items, and followed the movers to my house with the furniture and stuff I wanted to keep.

Believe it or not, bringing closer to my Dad’s life all went extremely well and very smooth. There was actually, very moderate to low stress on my end. Then, literally on that same day, the Friday before Memorial Day weekend our son announced that he had enlisted in the Marines earlier in the day (apparently while I was in Richmond supervising the movers at my Dad’s house) as he plopped a bunch of paperwork on the kitchen table. Honestly, I don’t remember if my first reaction was, “what? why? or, that’s nice dear, tell me that on a different day.” GULP, GULP, GULP. I was tired and just wanted to relax!

It ended up that it was true…our son had, in fact, enlisted and that next Thursday we were at the Military Entrance Processing Systems building watching him take the oath to begin the process of becoming a Marine. This actually happened so quickly that I didn’t have too much time to stress about it. (He actually leaves on next Monday, the September 18th). Now, I’m getting a bit more anxious, but I am very proud of him and I know my Dad would be as well. He would tell me if he were physically here, “Regina, he will be alright, he’s in God’s hands now. All you can do is pray for him.”

So, how did I go through  with relatively little stress? My Dad showed me how die with dignity and grace. He made it fun. He surprised me at times and sure did keep me on my toes. There was no doubt that he and God were running the show. He instructed me on want he needed, what friends he wanted to see, who he wanted to call on the phone, and what he wanted to eat when he was hungry or thirsty. I’ve never seen someone so excited to die, and it wasn’t because he was in so much pain (he actually didn’t have any until five days before his death). He was just that excited to meet God and live with Him forever in Eternal Glory — along with my mom, as our faith teaches us.

Ohh…back to my office visit story. As my doctor was walking into my patient room,  where I had been trying to catch a few real quick winks, she started speaking without looking at me, “Have I got a proposition for you!” I immediately sat up before she caught me laying down, while she looked at her computer she was carrying in. I thought, “What’s wrong?”

As she found her doctor’s chair, set the computer down on the desk, and looked up at me, she continued, “It’s funny you would come in today, I was going to call you later today. No, really, I think you’d be great to write an article for the Journal for the American College of Cardiology (ACC). They are wanting to publish perspectives from patients  living with heart failure. I thought of you first.”

ACC is a non-profit association that consists of approximately 50,000 physicians, register nurses, clinical nurse specialists, nurse practitioners, physician assistants, doctors of pharmacy and practice administrators who all specialize in cardiovascular care. The organization began in 1949 and is based in Washington, D.C. Today, it is composed of 51 chapters in the U.S. and Puerto Rico. One main purpose of the ACC’s is education. They are also involved with the formulation of health policies and support cardiovascular research. I am proud to say that my cardiologist is the President for the 2017-2018 year.

So, apparently there is a piece somewhere that is dedicated to patient perspectives. A while back, years ago, she asked if I would be willing to be interviewed by a different publication for an article. I agreed back then, so maybe that was why she was asking me again. She wanted me to write the second article that would be published. There is one that has been done already.

I began thinking, “Why? What makes you think of me first? Am I that bad off that you can’t believe I keep showing up for these appointments every six months or so or what?” My first verbal response was, “I don’t know what I’d really write about at this point.” She answered, “I’ve read your blog posts — something like that. Use what you’ve done there and maybe expand on it. We just want your perspective, as someone who lives day in and day out with heart failure, to talk about it and how they cope.”

My response was something to the effect, “Oooh. I’ve been feeling really good, so I sort of forgot about the whole blogging thing.” I don’t even know if I remember how to log on to the account, to be honest. She seemed a bit bewildered or maybe disappointed? I don’t know, but my thoughts were starting to circle as I realized that I have only blogged when things are going bad.

Using her doctor tactics to convince me, she quickly had an answer, “That’s interesting – write about that then too. That you blog when you don’t feel good, you blog and when you do feel good, you don’t feel the need.”

That evening, I couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking about all the things I could write about, but I’m sure there will be a word count that I can’t go over. The more I thought, the more I couldn’t sleep, and then more I was thinking that I guess I do really do have a lot material to pick from to continue writing blog posts, even when things are good. I actually could write about as she suggested.

I have a tendency to not draw attention to my problems, they are just part of who I am and I have grown up with them so I don’t think about them the way many people who find out they have a heart condition might. It’s new to them and they have a hard time understanding what is going on with themselves. They are not use to the problems that they begin experiencing, life style changes they must now make, and taking medicine. My problems aren’t  really new, they just evolve into new routines or medicine changes.

I never gave much thought that the general public would be interested in my stories because there is always someone else that has it worse and they’ve already written a book about their journey. Why would anyone want to read about my illnesses? My mom encouraged me to write a book. She thought it was interesting. She’s my mom, of course she would. Okay, so I could write one, but who would buy the book. Although, I did want to write an “Operators Manual” for my kids so they would have my medical history if and when they needed to care for me when I’m older so a lot of my story has already been started. I was beginning to recognize that maybe since I have lived with a lot of things wrong medically, that there may be some people might find it interesting or helpful as they struggle with some of the same issues.

I have started to become a bit more open to idea that sometimes people just want to know they are not alone in some of the feelings or routines that they experience with medical problems, and in this case — heart failure. I never joined support groups or had a day of depression because I was surrounded by family and great friends who loved me for who I was and never made fun of the problems I encounter, unless I made fun of them myself. They laugh with me — not at me. I, for the most part, accepted my challenges and keep plugging along.

That all being said, I’m back up and ready to write lots of fun and entertaining stories about the days I’ve been blessed to have for over 49 years now. We’ll see what happens. God really does have a sense of humor. Wonder what he has in store that he wants me to share?

—By the way, my appointment went well overall. We did discuss a few other medical topics, but basically my instructions from the doctor was, “see you in six months and wait to here from the editor.”