I guess it is the planning that will have to be put by the wayside that is perhaps most discouraging. I had a weekend in June circled. The Boy and I were going to go hiking. The Window Trail. A simple, 3 or 4 mile out-and-back walk to a spectacular view in Big Bend. Bit of an elevation change, but nothing too difficult. I was really looking forward to it. And then the phone rang last Friday at 6 o'clock. I just shouldn't have answered it.
"Your heart function is back down to 30 percent. We're not sure why."
Dr. Harper's news was upsetting but not entirely unexpected. Deep breaths have again been more a luxury than something taken for granted, ala the Summer of '04, for the last few weeks. Not as rampant as the Summer of '04, but there is noticably more laboring in the breath-catching process once again.
We had thought, doctor included, that the cardiomyopathy that I had/have was/is a viral infection and fully reversible. In fact, it had acted like it had packed up and gone for the last three months. But alas, it came a' callin' again about a month ago.
So we sit and play the waiting game again. And while we do that, we try the best we can to handle the discouragement that comes with a Permanently Altered Lifestyle.
You may recall reading some time back that everything was quite peachy upon my furlough from Dallas Presbyterian in January. And things have been really remarkable. Karen and I have been walking, eating healtier, living better. And then April came and with it two baseball games a week and Boy Scouts and all the other things you do when you're the parents of young 'uns. And with the raging evening schedule that spring brings, we see ourselves in drive-thrus more often (Mexican, don'tcha know) and with little or no time to walk. And when the breath-catching became more difficult, I figured it was just attributable to that Americana way of livin'.
But Doc Harper said no. It was not that. In fact he's not sure why my heart has become troublesome again. Acting up like a darn 2-year-old when no one's looking. Sticking its fingers in the cake icing hoping to get away with it. Yessir, that's my heart.
But we make the best of it, right? A doctor gives you news you don't want to hear, you really only have two options: Whine, or get on with it. So I try not to whine because it's really quite unbecoming -- which is one of the nice things about having a major health problem -- you quit complaining because you're just happy to be alive and you know your problems are really quite small, and you are just thankful you're not as bad as the next guy who is sure to share his sob story that's "You-think-that's-bad" worse than yours.
And I try to tell The Boy "We'll hike. Sometime. Don't you worry. It may have to be a peaceful (boring) walk on flat land through a flower garden (what kinda fun is that to a Tenderfoot Scout like The Boy, huh?). But we'll do it. I promise." And I try my best to buy into it myself.
And I decide not to whine because I know I am fortunate because I have a family who cares, a mom and a dad and a sister and a brother who I love and who call constantly hoping the news is better. And a wife without whom I would simply not be able to make it. A wife who has saved me more times than I can count. So, except for the hiking part, the not being able to walk up mountains in the middle of nowhere part, I really am a lucky guy. My heart may not be coming along for the ride entirely, but my head's got it figured out. And I'm thankful for that, too.
So, we sit and wait and I will drive to Dallas again and again to see a great doctor who will one day get to the bottom of what's going on. And until then, life will go on.
Oh, and ... your prayers would make it easier.
This now officially qualifies as a Monday. I had been lulled into that 'safe' feeling due to the lack of any recent news.
Yes, you have a loving and supportive family. But you forgot to mention that you also have a host of friends who are concerned and are anxious to help in any way. I am proud to be among them.
Tell James that when your heart function has regained normalcy, we will all climb Mushaway Peak in Borden County.
Posted by: craig | Monday, May 09, 2005 at 09:41 AM
You ask for prayers but you should know that prayers, and many friends, you will always have. That's a given, Jimmy. A bit of luck wouldn't hurt, so I'll add my Irish two-cents worth. And if you don't mind I'll start a novena for you -- it has never failed to work. Now we're talking "serious" prayer!
Posted by: Ellen Hopkins | Monday, May 09, 2005 at 02:07 PM
Hey Jimmy! Don't listen to any crazy docs... just keep right on ticking! :) Me and my girls are praying for you... a little bit of heart is just a little bit of dust to God! Have faith and he will give you amazing strength!
Posted by: Lauren Turocy | Monday, May 09, 2005 at 04:20 PM
I know that feeling of "something may be lurking" all too well.
Prays for the best.....
Posted by: Wallace-Midland, Texas | Tuesday, May 10, 2005 at 11:24 PM
Jimmy -
There is scientific proof now that FAITH works a lot better than some prescriptions in curing what ails you. You are full of faith - so I'm sure all will be well in your heart. Think of my Dad - he had heart trouble 15 years ago and is still flirting with the girls!
I'll say a rosary for you.
Posted by: Laura Wolf | Friday, May 13, 2005 at 01:46 PM