Monday, April 7, 2014

Matters of the Heart

“It takes more than just a good looking body. You've got to have the heart and soul to go with it.”

- Epictetus

“It is very important to generate a good attitude, a good heart, as much as possible. From this, happiness in both the short term and the long term for both yourself and others will come.”

- Dalai Lama

“If you want your heart to be healthy for the rest of your life, follow this prescription:

1. Get plenty of exercise.
2. Follow a good diet.
3. Keep your heart clean and drug-free.
People who don't follow this prescription often develop some form of heart disease.
Be heart smart and have a healthy heart”

Matters of the Heart

Doctor’s offices in my opinion are sterile.  They are cold environments by nature. They have thousands of pamphlets on the wall talking about this or that self-test but then they got the golf digest and the entertainment weekly too.  As if reading these things could take your mind off of why you are here.

My pulse feels like it is racing and my chest hurts again.  My head is sore and I feel like I have to poo.  I'm ubber anxious.  Now there is pain in my left arm just on queue.  This is appointment is big, real big.  If I get a clean bill of health I can't start pushing again.  I can push it and rage against the fucking machine man.  Swim harder, walk faster, and know my ticker is going to make it.

Oh gods I can't breathe.  Why can't I breathe?  There is the pain in my arm again.  Fuck, am I really going to die waiting for the cardiologist?  That would be bad.  Then again f you going to have a heart attack is there a better place to do it?

I always get nervous and squirm when I see the trash can for bio hazardous waste.  As if I wasn't anxious enough now I have to look at that fucking thing!  What germs and contaminates lurk in there?  Clap?  Herp? Something worse.   Pulse racing again and right in chest.   Where is this fucking guy?

They come in and take my blood pressure.   In freaking out but it's only 122/78, it's normal the nurse says.  It's higher than last Tuesday but I'll take it.

So why does my head hurt still?  Why is my arm sore?  Why I am I here?  I am 38 years old and already on trip number 2 to the cardiologist.  Fuck.  IT does not good to get mad does it?  After all there is one reason I am here.  That reason is because I am weak of mind.  I have poisoned my vessel.  I have over indulged trying to find love for myself.  I looked for it in all the wrong places.  Bottles, pills, food, you name the vice I tried it.  All in the never-ending quest to be satisfied enough with myself to move on.  To do what I want to do when I want to do.

The sudden realization in the doctor’s office is contradictory.  Then again is my nature one of contradiction.  I am after all a man who once walked 10 miles, to justify to himself he could lose weight while eating a large pizza.  So, the truth as I sit in the chair and wait some else to tell me if I feel all right is this.  I hate myself for being here, but I am ever so glad that I have come.  This clean bill of health means so much to me.  Everything.  I have goals and dreams.  I want to make them come true.  I want to live.  I really do want to live.  I want to live.  I don’t want to die.  I want to live.

Make no mistake when I say live I am not talking about spending another twenty years watching TV on the couch.  No, no.  I want to see the fucking world.  I want race again.  I want nothing to hold me back.  I see hope.  I want to be out there in this world doing my thing.  Living to get radical.  Living my life, on my terms, with the people I want to be with me.  My team.  Team Billy b the ones who want to be with me no matter what.

I'm trying to meditate.  It doesn’t work.  I can’t calm down.  Not now.  I start freaking my blood pressure is going to be thru the roof.  I can just here it now.  This appointment is going to be a fucking disaster.  HOLD…. The nurse is here…

122/78 is my Blood Pressure.  I am pretty fucking stoked.  That is after a day of work, and 2.5 cups of coffee.  Its not the 112/70 from last Tuesday a.m. but fuck it.  We will take it.

Now I am waiting for the doctor.  This dude is going to laugh at me.  I am a clown.  A joke.  I know why I am here.  I am here because I am stressed.  I am stressed because there are a lot of changes going on in my life right now.  Tomorrow isn’t going to be today.  I am getting better and I am putting me first and it scares me.  It stresses me out.  Change is hard.  I need to change so many things.  I am changing so many things.

DOCTOR – WE WILL CATCH UP LATER

I am sitting here at my computer and my eyes are full of tears.  I want to cry.  I want to cry because I am relieved.  I want to cry because I am happy.  I want to cry because I am letting go.  I want to cry.

I love my sister Bb.  She is the world to me.  She gave me the straight talk tonight.  I can talk to my sister about anything.  I have talked to her about everything.  I love her.  She did not sugar coat it for.  Stop pussy footing around, move forward, don’t look back and LIVE.  Say you want to live.  Say it loud and say it often.  Do what you have to do to get better.  Move forward.

I don’t think I am going to cry.  I never do.  I want to though.  I need too.  I think crying washes away the old.  I think it truly lets things start new.  I want to cry.

I want to cry because I sat there and told the doctor my tale.  He said he wasn’t worried.  He was like does your chest ever hurt when you swim.  No.  Does it hurt when you walk?  No.  Ok, come back in three months.  If it ever hurts when you walk, swim, punch, and come see me immediately and we will do the nuclear test.  He says because of my size it is a two-day test b/c they can’t pump me full of the needed iodine or whatever in one sitting.  He wasn’t being cruel.  He was just being serious.

He was like you telling me the truth. I had to think about it because I am 99% sure my pain happens, when I am not doing anything.  It happens when I try to sleep.  When I try to work.  When I think too much.  I can walk a flight of stairs and ya I am out of breath but my chest never hurts.

He says, and then I won’t be a roadblock.  You’re cleared for exercise.  I can see Tyson and Rachel reading this now and grinning b/c I am fucked now they ware going to work my ass off.  Rachel has decided she is Tyson’s assistant when it comes to get me moving.  I am free to do what ever I need to do because exercise and healthy eating is the path.  Who would have ever thought I was eating healthy but not moving?  Shocker right?  And not the good kind, either, you know what I am talking about.  WSU, the Shockers. Come on, don’t be dirty.

So, I pick up my phone and text Coach Janna and I says Janna me and you and some of our closest friends one Sunday in September lets do PG sprint.  This means I will have to get into a wet suite, which means, I will have to pay off Deb, b/c no one can stuff me into a wet suite like she can.  I will have to get my car hitched.  My bikes worked on.  But that is all good stress. It really is.

My sister tells me I don’t need to go to a cardiologist.  I just need to get my shit together.  She says I say it in these blogs, but do I really believe it.  Do I really believe that I deserve to be happy? That I deserve to live?  Do I really want it?

The answer is yes.  I want to live. I fucking do.  Just because the tears won’t fall doesn’t mean that it isn’t true. It is time.  Time to go.  Time to live.

The long and short of it is this. Focus on the positive things in my life.  I have a family and friends that love me.  I am smart, I write well, and I am creative.  I am healthy even though my weight is too high, but I am dealing with it.  It is time.  My time.  The time of the Black Reaper!

I will rise!  I will live.  It is time to turn the boat around.  It is time to stand and be true.

Long days and pleasant nights!

NOTE – Janna is in for PG, so is Rachel… Deb?  You in?  I will swim for you on Saturday too :D

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