For most of those running in the Great Manchester - and for that matter, those who will run the Great North and London Marathon - winning the race is clearly not the objective (noooooo amount of training.....!). Personal challenge might well be reason enough, but it is also an opportunity to raise money for a worthy cause through sponsorship; an opportunity which I have taken. My chosen charity is the British Heart Foundation, and here is the reason why.........
On the intro to the blog I mention 'a few health warning shots' which essentially gave rise to this insane idea; one in particular was more akin to a Waterloo-ta-ta-Nelson-shaped cannonball which came at me one day, six years ago. It was a day that started much like any other (oh come on, give me a break; surely I'm allowed at least one of those Dashiell Hammett, Maltese Falcon introductions?!!); work, followed by a session of body pump at the gym, followed by popping over to 'R' for the evening (see previous post). It was one of those difficult periods in the relationship and we ended up arguing about nothing in particular. It was as we reached the traditional 'agree to disagree' stage of the discussion that I felt it, an irregular fluttering of my heart. Now I confess that it was not the first time I felt this, but on previous occasions it has only gone on for a second, and then settled back into it's normal rhythm. This time it didn't; it kept on fluttering. I drank a glass of water, no change; I tried taking deep breaths and thinking calm thoughts (fat chance), no change; I confess I even tried hitting my chest (I know, I know; using the tried and tested man-fixing-method of 'give it a whack'), no change.
By the time I got home I think it was safe to say I was a little worried (?!!). I say worried; scared would be more accurate; scared first of all for the effect that this irregular beating might have on my body, and terrified for what might happen next. Lying in bed, there was no escape from it; all I could feel was my heart going all over the place; and all I could think was that this was a precursor to it stopping altogether. Being faced with what you think might be your own death is a truly memorable experience for every single wrong reason.
I rang 'R' who told me to ring NHS direct, who without putting too fine a point on it, told me to get to hospital....quick (oh good, so nothing serious then...that's a relief). When we got there there was a 90 minute wait, but once I explained what was happening I was on a stretcher having an ECG within about four minutes, and once the nurse had a look at the readings (wide-eyed) I was being wheeled into the resuscitation (terrible name) ward. Five minutes later a drip was plugged into me, and I was plugged into a heart monitor which even I could tell was giving out readings which were far from normal. I don't think I have ever been so frightened in all my life.
The night wore on, and I think if it hadn't been for 'R' - who stayed with me for the whole lovely experience, holding my hand - I may well have gone to pieces. I know I had to relax, but a combination of general terror, facing ones mortality, listening to the bippadeeboop (as opposed to the beep....beep) on a heart monitor, as well as looking at the Himalayas on its screen, surprisingly had the opposite effect (go figure)!
If it was possible for my terror to get any more terrifying, it dawned on me after a few hours that the drugs to correct the irregularity were not working. What happened next struck me as simultaneously terrifying and comical, as the doctor told me that if the drugs were not going to work, they would have to stop my heart, and then shock it back into a normal 'sinus' rhythm. So for a small amount of time I would actually be clinically dead. The comedy was in the way the doctor delivered the news, like he was discussing who had just been voted off 'The Apprentice'. Not only this, I reflected on the fact that even in a profession devoted to skill, education and technology in order to save lives, we had resorted to the worldwide solution to any mechanical malfunction known as 'turn it off, and turn it on again'! Surprisingly, the shock of the idea of stopping my heart was sufficient to jolt it back into normal rhythm, and I was saved an actual-death experience.
I was discharged the next day, and numerous scans, appointments and tests later was given a clean bill of health, but it was an experience I will never forget, no matter how hard I might try. On that night I learnt so much; about the fragility of life, about how much I loved living and didn't want to die any time soon, and how incredibly vital a healthy heart is. Any vital organ 'going wrong' is never a good thing, but there is something so absolute about the heart. It must keep beating, if not; well.....that's that really. So I am doing all I can while I still can, to keep it healthy, keep it beating. I can't think of a better cause to raise money for than a charity which shares these beliefs.
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