Is It Safe?

Now that's an open ended question isn't it? In the context of life after a heart attack much of what you do on a daily basis becomes a question of safety. Not from a desire to turn into a wimp or an ostrich hiding from life but in an often fear guided approach to living that generates it's own multitude of problems. 

Like life in general boiled down to a thick stew of fear and avoidance the desire to live becomes one of judging the safety of each and every action for it's inherent risks. All the joys and promises life contains that you believed from your youth vanishes as you face the very real prospect your next action may trigger a repeat and the next one could be your last. Certainly the optimal view is to look at what happened as a wake up call. Change the things that need changing. Begin anew with a promise you can still live that happy life with all the promises and dreams you had when youth's vigor, optimism and passion put the world at your feet. A good Dr. will emphasize precisely that no matter how much damage has been done or extensive the surgery needed to get you through this time.

Sounds great and gives you hope. Then you go home and the safety net is gone. The pep talks and optimism surrounding and encouraging you at all times goes away. Fear begins to eat at you. The medications that you are supposed to trust to help and save you begin to rear their ugly side. The side affects can take that new attitude and grind it down to dust in a matter of days or weeks. 

Here's what happened to me that did exactly that. You see I'm one of those who reacts in a very negative way to statins. My muscles hurt and ached more all the time. They began to deteriorate. No amount of exercise helped as it all seemed to go for naught. Depression stalked me at every turn. Suicidal thoughts began to dangle their ugly lures at every turn. I began to have migraines from the blood thinner/clot stopper that's so much in the news. The beta blocking pills made me feel like I had no energy or moving through mud sucking all the passion and energy from morning til night. Sleep became a safe haven. Being awake a nightmare. 

Sure they put me on many different varieties, tried all sorts of alternatives yet each time I ended up at the hospital emergency room on a 6 - 9 month routine of close calls that made life seem empty and futile.  This is what the promise of change and a chance to start over really means? If so then what's the point? What's my incentive to keep going if it's nothing more than feeling the worst I've ever felt in my life and the constant fear if I don't put up with it I'm doomed to have a repeat heart attack and die at any moment? Is this my life for whatever time remains? Each visit to the Dr.'s office a repeat of the importance of continuing and the dangers in an attempt to scare me to keep trusting them because living is preferable to death. By this time it began to seem the alternative was actually much more promising because at least the pain, fear and constant dread that stalked my steps would be over. 

In my case what made it even worse was the knowledge that while they fixed things this time it may not be a heart attack that gets me at all. You see when they went in to get rid of the clot, put in all the stents what they found was they couldn't open them up as far as they wanted to because my arteries would start to split and they would have to stop. The very real danger I faced was that under too strenuous of circumstances one or more of them could split or rupture and I would bleed out before any ambulance could get there. If I was in the emergency room and one ruptured, even if they rushed me to the operating table, I would still be gone because they could never get inside fast enough. Literally every step I took, every walk for exercise, lifting something, exercise too much or heaven forbid, attempt to have sex carried with it the in your face risk of dying from one moment to the next. 

Breaking a sweat became a personal dare with death. 

Yet here I am. How did I overcome all that? How did I stop fearing for my safety and start living life again? My fear for my life and safety mirrors any life lived for it's safety value instead of facing the risk of doing something about it. Being safe may seem practical at the time but only in risk and action is fear overcome and courage discovered. As so many have said courage is not the absence of fear but acting in spite of fear. Sure we have many reasons and excuses that appear to justify why we don't act. That appear to validate our lack of action. That keep the comfort and safety we want by spreading it around to those around us and how much it would affect them if we didn't. For me my kids and family figured largely in why I put up with it for so long. In fact I later found out if I had done more sooner the better ALL of us would have been. The very fact I chose to be safe, chose to allow fear to overshadow my decisions no matter how justified they appeared in fact undermined and sabotaged much of my and their lives in the process. 

Next time I'll begin with the steps I finally began to take because I refused to live like that any more. Because I feared more not doing something to change it than putting up with what I was assured and promised was the safest and only way to live another day. Even though that day was one of dread and not dreams.