Heart attack +2 weeks

Plus sixteen days, actually. I thought I’d take a look back at where I was, and where I’m currently at.

Physically, I’m in pretty good shape. My resting heart rate is often under 70 and nearly always under 80. My blood pressure has usually been around 115-120/80. I’ve lost eight pounds in the past two weeks with at least fifteen more to lose. Ideally, I’d like to lose 30 more pounds but Patty thinks that would be too much. For now, I’m taking the weight thing day by day. I weigh myself first thing in the morning and have lost weight nearly every day since leaving SMDC. I’m able to walk up to two miles at a nearly normal pace without being winded and while keeping my vital signs within normal ranges.

I had a follow-up visit with my family physician last week out in Lakeside and the news is all pretty good. That huge bruise on my right thigh is starting to fade. The occasional pain I’ve been having is normal and there is no evidence of a hemorrhage.

On Wednesday I was given the go-ahead by my cardio therapist to resume working out on my own. Within reason, of course. Those days of considering my “zone” to be a steady heart rate of 150-160 are behind me. Hopefully I’ll one day get back to being able to attain that rate again. For now, a range of 120-125 is considered optimum, considering what I’ve been through.

Emotionally, it’s been a process and the process is ongoing. There are lingering bits of anger which flare-up from time to time but the “Why Me?” questions have spent themselves because there simply is no answer to that question other than my diet was so crappy for so long, that this was going to eventually happen, even in someone who didn’t smoke, drink or do other drugs and worked out on a regular basis. I’m left with this pervasive feeling of my own mortality, and that isn’t necessarily a bad thing. It reminds me that I should put off nothing that I can do today. It reminds me to keep my loved ones close. It reminds me that some people are simply toxic and serve no real useful purpose.

Fear is an issue. Every time I feel a little tightness, the slightest twinge anywhere near my chest, it gets my attention. An “oh shit, not again!” type of attention. I’m told that these feelings will dissipate over time so I accept this for what it is; a natural reaction to having a heart attack. And then I move on to something else.

Overall, I feel lucky. Very lucky. The outcome could have been much worse than it has been, and for that, I’m grateful.

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