Thursday, February 2, 2012
Day One
In 2009 life was near perfect. I had been with my husband for 19 years. He and I had a thriving career together in the mortgage business. I had worked in the financial services industry for over 15 years and had earned a place of financial security and flexibility that allowed me to be a focused mother of two. Two beautiful Children, Hayley and Henry. I volunteered regularly in my kid's schools, planning auctions, fundraising, teaching art, and planning class parties. My daughter dances competitively and my life revolved around the studio, competitions and sports events and the second family we created there. I had a strong group of girlfriends I consider my family, and an active social life. I was having a wonderful time helping to plan my high school 20 year reunion in August.
Like most women I cared about how I was going to look at that reunion. During that year, my best friend and I made a pact to get in better shape. I was going to be Forty soon enough and like everything else in my life I needed to be a perfect 40. We decided to take up running. We did Five 5ks. We were not fast but we were determined. We called it "wogging", we said we would run if chased, we said it's not fat it's fuel. We did everything together with a healthy dose of self depreciating humor.
Shortly after my reunion and my last 5k my life changed drastically. The "event" changed everything. A few years prior my Dad had lost his long battle with Heart Disease and died at the young age of 52. Although, I had inherited my Dad's high cholesterol and tendency to gain weight around the middle, I was not that worried. I didn't do the bad things he did. I didn't smoke, I didn't have a blocked artery, I didn't have high blood pressure and I did not consider McDonalds a food group. I went to the doctor regularly, including a cardiologist twice a year. I was on a statin to control my cholesterol. Yes, I needed to lose a few pounds and I have a thing for cupcakes, but I was not male, heart disease would not take me.
During this year I had several fainting incidents. The doctors said it was a response to being ill during those times, I was dehydrated, I had the flu. Shortly after the reunion in September I came down with a nasty sinus infection. Six weeks later, several courses of antibiotics, visits to my primary doctor, an ENT doctor and even a Rheumatologist; No one could figure out why I was so sick. Rest they said and take some more antibiotics. Rest? I have a job, two kids and a life, I can't do that, I am a MOM.
On October 1, 2009 I had my regular check up with my Cardiologist. He walked in to the exam room and greeted me warmly as he always did but when he asked "how are you doing?" I totally lost it. I cried and told him about the running around, all the tests they wanted done, how I could barely get out of bed. He walked out of the room without saying a word, uh oh I scared him. He came back he said you have fifteen minutes to do what needs to be done with your family and we are admitting you to the hospital across the street where a friend of mine who is a specialist will meet you, do all the tests in one place and figure out what was going on. This stopped the crying, I can't do that, my son is at a play date, my daughter needs to be picked up from Dance Team and my husband is at work 40 miles away. He knew me. He said that's the deal I will be back in fifteen minutes. I made the calls and checked into my private room at Overlake Hospital. Private because they were not sure if I was contagious. A key point to this story was that I was on a Cardiac floor since it was a Cardiologist that had checked me into this little vacation. Maybe this won't be too bad I thought, peace, quiet, someone else will cook and serve me the meals, I will have the remote all to myself. If I could have gotten a pedicure too it would have been near perfect.
On the second day of my hospital stay it all changed. I fainted. This time it was the absolute definition of the "right place and right time". Hooked up to a cardiac monitor as was protocol on this floor of the hospital. When I regained consciences, there were about a dozen people in my room, it was loud, and bright and they seemed really stressed out.
I had suffered cardiac arrest. What did this mean? My heart had stopped, I was unresponsive. They were getting ready to revive me with the paddles when I came to. Well this event won me another week in the hospital and a surgery to implant a pacemaker to make sure it didn't happen again.
So started the journey. My recovery was tough. Mentally, emotionally and physically. I gained more weight. I was tired all the time. My life started to unravel. Financially, Martially, and physically.
In 2010 I volunteered for a Go Red for Women lunch, this sounded interesting. At that lunch I realized that I was a survivor of a cardiac event, someone dealing with heart disease. I never viewed myself that way. I had no idea that Heart Disease was the number one killer of women. I didn't understand,if it wasn't breast cancer why did I see pink ribbons all over the place. I didn't understand why the statistics didn't equate to more education and funding for women's heart disease. I became an advocate and a volunteer for the American Heart Association. In 2011, I was interviewed as a survivor and spokeswoman on local news stations. One of the reporters called me out on my talk of getting healthy and learning to live that lifestyle. She asked me what my weight loss goal was on live television. Fifty Pounds I said.
Well here we are a year later, another Go Red for Women Day is upon us. This Friday we encourage everyone to wear red to promote awareness of the number one killer of women. Why have I not succeeded? Life has kicked my fanny this past year. Unemployed, tired, stressed. I still have my girlfriends but even that extended family makes me feel like I failed them and all women by not succeeding at my goals.
The Heart Association asked me to speak again as an advocate. They asked me to do an interview with Marni Hughes, the anchor of Q13 Fox News. Sure I said, I am happy to help. But then I thought oh no!, people who remember me from last year will see I failed. How awful will that be, how embarrassing. I thought about coming down with something contagious and passing this opportunity to someone else. Then I thought about it and realized I can make a difference so don't be a baby. I can show women it is okay to not be perfect. I am a normal, stressed out mother of two. My life this past two years has crumbled around me. But I am still alive. I am a survivor. Stop feeling sorry for myself.I have not been to the gym in months and months. Too stressed, too tired, too everything. I have used every excuse in the book. What did I say last year during my interviews? Oh yeah, "it is okay to have as many day ones as you need as long as you keep having them". Wow how profound. Wednesday February 1st will truly be a day one for me. I am going to meet a trainer at the gym. I am going to commit to a program on live television. I am going to commit to blogging about it and possibly doing a follow up story. What do I have to lose? Weight? yes, could I fail in a very public way, maybe. But what if seeing someone normal struggle, someone admitting to feeling like a failure, a regular woman, a mother, a wife; what if that helps one person make the changes I seem to have been incapable of making these past two years. And by making those changes they put themselves first, therefore being better wives, partners, mothers, co-workers and ultimately helping to lower the statistics by being one less woman that dies of heart disease. Isn't that worth the risk of failure and humiliation and pain that the trainer is going to inflict on my fat butt? Absolutely, it is.
Like most women I cared about how I was going to look at that reunion. During that year, my best friend and I made a pact to get in better shape. I was going to be Forty soon enough and like everything else in my life I needed to be a perfect 40. We decided to take up running. We did Five 5ks. We were not fast but we were determined. We called it "wogging", we said we would run if chased, we said it's not fat it's fuel. We did everything together with a healthy dose of self depreciating humor.
Shortly after my reunion and my last 5k my life changed drastically. The "event" changed everything. A few years prior my Dad had lost his long battle with Heart Disease and died at the young age of 52. Although, I had inherited my Dad's high cholesterol and tendency to gain weight around the middle, I was not that worried. I didn't do the bad things he did. I didn't smoke, I didn't have a blocked artery, I didn't have high blood pressure and I did not consider McDonalds a food group. I went to the doctor regularly, including a cardiologist twice a year. I was on a statin to control my cholesterol. Yes, I needed to lose a few pounds and I have a thing for cupcakes, but I was not male, heart disease would not take me.
During this year I had several fainting incidents. The doctors said it was a response to being ill during those times, I was dehydrated, I had the flu. Shortly after the reunion in September I came down with a nasty sinus infection. Six weeks later, several courses of antibiotics, visits to my primary doctor, an ENT doctor and even a Rheumatologist; No one could figure out why I was so sick. Rest they said and take some more antibiotics. Rest? I have a job, two kids and a life, I can't do that, I am a MOM.
On October 1, 2009 I had my regular check up with my Cardiologist. He walked in to the exam room and greeted me warmly as he always did but when he asked "how are you doing?" I totally lost it. I cried and told him about the running around, all the tests they wanted done, how I could barely get out of bed. He walked out of the room without saying a word, uh oh I scared him. He came back he said you have fifteen minutes to do what needs to be done with your family and we are admitting you to the hospital across the street where a friend of mine who is a specialist will meet you, do all the tests in one place and figure out what was going on. This stopped the crying, I can't do that, my son is at a play date, my daughter needs to be picked up from Dance Team and my husband is at work 40 miles away. He knew me. He said that's the deal I will be back in fifteen minutes. I made the calls and checked into my private room at Overlake Hospital. Private because they were not sure if I was contagious. A key point to this story was that I was on a Cardiac floor since it was a Cardiologist that had checked me into this little vacation. Maybe this won't be too bad I thought, peace, quiet, someone else will cook and serve me the meals, I will have the remote all to myself. If I could have gotten a pedicure too it would have been near perfect.
On the second day of my hospital stay it all changed. I fainted. This time it was the absolute definition of the "right place and right time". Hooked up to a cardiac monitor as was protocol on this floor of the hospital. When I regained consciences, there were about a dozen people in my room, it was loud, and bright and they seemed really stressed out.
I had suffered cardiac arrest. What did this mean? My heart had stopped, I was unresponsive. They were getting ready to revive me with the paddles when I came to. Well this event won me another week in the hospital and a surgery to implant a pacemaker to make sure it didn't happen again.
So started the journey. My recovery was tough. Mentally, emotionally and physically. I gained more weight. I was tired all the time. My life started to unravel. Financially, Martially, and physically.
In 2010 I volunteered for a Go Red for Women lunch, this sounded interesting. At that lunch I realized that I was a survivor of a cardiac event, someone dealing with heart disease. I never viewed myself that way. I had no idea that Heart Disease was the number one killer of women. I didn't understand,if it wasn't breast cancer why did I see pink ribbons all over the place. I didn't understand why the statistics didn't equate to more education and funding for women's heart disease. I became an advocate and a volunteer for the American Heart Association. In 2011, I was interviewed as a survivor and spokeswoman on local news stations. One of the reporters called me out on my talk of getting healthy and learning to live that lifestyle. She asked me what my weight loss goal was on live television. Fifty Pounds I said.
Well here we are a year later, another Go Red for Women Day is upon us. This Friday we encourage everyone to wear red to promote awareness of the number one killer of women. Why have I not succeeded? Life has kicked my fanny this past year. Unemployed, tired, stressed. I still have my girlfriends but even that extended family makes me feel like I failed them and all women by not succeeding at my goals.
The Heart Association asked me to speak again as an advocate. They asked me to do an interview with Marni Hughes, the anchor of Q13 Fox News. Sure I said, I am happy to help. But then I thought oh no!, people who remember me from last year will see I failed. How awful will that be, how embarrassing. I thought about coming down with something contagious and passing this opportunity to someone else. Then I thought about it and realized I can make a difference so don't be a baby. I can show women it is okay to not be perfect. I am a normal, stressed out mother of two. My life this past two years has crumbled around me. But I am still alive. I am a survivor. Stop feeling sorry for myself.I have not been to the gym in months and months. Too stressed, too tired, too everything. I have used every excuse in the book. What did I say last year during my interviews? Oh yeah, "it is okay to have as many day ones as you need as long as you keep having them". Wow how profound. Wednesday February 1st will truly be a day one for me. I am going to meet a trainer at the gym. I am going to commit to a program on live television. I am going to commit to blogging about it and possibly doing a follow up story. What do I have to lose? Weight? yes, could I fail in a very public way, maybe. But what if seeing someone normal struggle, someone admitting to feeling like a failure, a regular woman, a mother, a wife; what if that helps one person make the changes I seem to have been incapable of making these past two years. And by making those changes they put themselves first, therefore being better wives, partners, mothers, co-workers and ultimately helping to lower the statistics by being one less woman that dies of heart disease. Isn't that worth the risk of failure and humiliation and pain that the trainer is going to inflict on my fat butt? Absolutely, it is.
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