DDW Challenge; timepiece

Heartbeat, why you miss ….

Why do you?

Every so often my heart goes off on a wobbly. This of course, is not a proper medical term, but it could just as well be, given the circumstances. My wiring is faulty. This is a medical term because a doctor used it. He also used the term “a bit mangled up” when referring to the risks of lung surgery.

In 2010 a bowel cancer secondary ended up in my left lung. It was bad luck that it ended up a bit too close to my heart.

If my left lung was, say, the United Kingdom, then the tumour could have fetched up in the car-park at John O’Groats or the teashop at Land’s End; that is, in some distant, quiet, unspoilt part of my respiratory system.  But no – it settled for the cardiovascular equivalent of Spaghetti Junction – just off the M6 and about as far inland as you can get.  A high-rise mess of nerves, veins and arteries.

And as anyone who has driven around the M6 will know – once you start digging, chaos and disruption on a major scale are inevitable. 

The nerves surrounding my heart (the wiring) were indeed ‘mangled up’ when the tumour was removed and as a result, my heart, bless it, tries to rewire itself from time to time, resulting in heart arrhythmia. This is not a good thing.

I had an arrhythmia about 1.30 this morning; it woke me up. Sometimes these events are quite minor, lasting just an hour or so until the pills kick in. But today’s was a biggie - a bit like sitting on a washing machine on fast spin, as it skates across an uneven floor. My heart is now back in its regular rhythm, but it’s too fast - it’s been stuck on 118bpm all day.

I know this, because this timepiece - an oximeter - measures my heart rate and oxygen saturation level. I consult it everyday. It’s as valuable to me as an antique watch.

The side effects of heart arrhythmia can be unpleasant; fatigue, breathlessness and a general lack of oomph.

We're about to start redecorating our ensuite bathroom. I have jobs to do. But I'm excused duty. Today, I have to lie on the sofa and watch the Tour de France as it wends its way through the beautiful French Countryside, until my heart rate drops to my normal rate. Which it will, in due course. As the riders of the TdF will no doubt testify, the human body is an amazing machine.