The (literal) defective heart

No more sad talk about worthless subjects and insignificant people. Let’s talk about me dying.

Ok, I’m not REALLY dying, but my heart isn’t beating like normal.

I have always dismissed the flutters and pressure as anxiety because they are both symptoms. Hell, I blamed even more of it on weight. It turns out, there may be much more.

My cardiologist spoke to me about a rare condition in women called Fibromuscular Dysplasia . He explained that weight could have nothing to do with my symptoms and my elevated bp. It has no cure, but treatments include medication and surgery, in worst cases. I’m officially on watch and must go through wearing a portable heart monitor, stress tests and CT scans of my kidneys.

Sounds like fun, right?

In some cases, you can live without treatment. I’ve been exhibiting symptoms for years without a clue. Had I not been stressed about that fiasco, I’d never have mentioned anything to my doc.

I thanked him for being awful. He may have saved my life.