Heart/wrecked

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Like a ship that runs aground because of low tide or unseen rocks or fog or navigational errors, our beautiful heart can be damaged when blood flow is restricted or when it flows unregulated.

Heart/wrecked.

I grew up hearing the term, “Stress kills.”

I was never quite sure what that meant, but then I did when it happened to me.

After a seemingly nonstop barrage of a personal stressful situation–like a ship hitting the rocks over and over again–it all finally took an undeniable toll on my physical health.

One of my favorite places to live is in the state of Denial, but I’ve been forced to temporarily move to a new town called Reality. Hopefully, I’ll just visit there for a bit until I can come home again.

After experiencing some intermittent and strangely terrifying heart pains, I went to the doc who took my blood pressure and was concerned about the results. It was super high. I had always had enviably LOW blood pressure since I exercise regularly, am vegan and never smoked, so this raised concerns.

Over the course of a couple weeks, my BP was checked daily and it stayed consistently high; dangerously high, which only made me more anxious and more stressed, and at one of the office visits, I started hyperventilating and had a panic attack. (Super embarrassing for the doc and absolutely mortifying for me.)

This led to an order for an Echocardiogram along with all the other heart-focused tests. The echo was done at a local hospital–a definite trigger. No one wants to go to a hospital at any time, but especially during Covid. It seemed like I was being admitted, with a wrist band and lots of little stickers, and I was devastated.

I almost bolted out of the front door at that point, but I persevered. I can share with you that it’s a scary time when you have to figure out why you don’t feel great. I’ve been a medical advocate for several loved ones, but it’s radically more difficult when you have to care for yourself. Poor me.

The technician was amazing, especially considering I tormented her with a million questions. I know enough about medical stuff to see that she was concentrating on a certain area of my heart. I really appreciated her patience with me and her detailed explanations during the hour-long ordeal.

The results showed a dilated aortic root valve and regurgitation of the mitral valve.

Risk Adjustment Coding Academy- Coding Focus

What this means is that the accumulation of stress and panic attacks and PTSD that I’ve endured during the last four years manifested medically and physically and caused structural damage to my heart.

Mitral valve regurgitation - Symptoms and causes - Mayo Clinic

“Severe physical or emotional stress increases blood pressure to the point where the tensile limit of the aortic tissue is overwhelmed, causing the rupture.”

“Over time, certain conditions, such as high blood pressure, can cause your heart to work harder, gradually enlarging your heart’s left ventricle.”

“Mitral valve regurgitation can cause complications such as atrial fibrillation, in which the atria of the heart don’t contract well. This leads to increased risk of stroke. Also, elevated blood pressure in the lungs (pulmonary artery hypertension).”

Hypertension makes the blood push harder against the valve and causes it to dilate, enlarge, and that’s pretty much the same scenario for the mitral valve, which seems to be the cause of the intermittent chest pain.

I’ll need to be monitored regularly because if I can’t control the stress/blood pressure and the valves stretch to a dangerous size, the only solution is surgical intervention–or death.

Reducing stress and hypertension can possibly keep the valves from enlarging any further, but the damage is done–nothing will make them reduce in size back to normal, except surgery.

Let me tell you that it’s true. Stress kills.

Now I’m off to change course, take some magnesium, eat more beets, meditate, calm down and regulate my breathing so that I don’t have a stroke or an aneurysm.

Photo by Daria Shevtsova on Pexels.com

Heart/wrecked.

Shipwrecked.

Beachy Memorial Day Celebration

Established in 1868, Memorial Day (originally known as Decoration Day) honors those who have died in military service for the United States. It’s a day of reflection and remembrance for their ultimate sacrifice.

When I was little, my mom and dad would buy red poppies for us to wear, but I haven’t seen them in a long time.

It’s also a three-day holiday and lots of tourists are here, but it’s still early and cloudy, so it’s not too crowded on the roads or the beach.

However, the waves are full of surfers packed like sardines waiting for the building swell.

I’m continually surprised that I don’t see more surfer collisions when they’re so close together.

Lifeguard Tower 35

Have a safe and happy Memorial Day!

Fuchsia Fairy

DIL asked for suggestions about flowers for a hanging basket near their front door.

When I replied that I thought a fuchsia would be pretty, she snortlaughed and said,
“Ring-ring-ring, 1980s calling, Grandma!”

I had never before thought that a purple-pink fuchsia dated me as being OLD, haha. It was a great joke…UNTIL she saw mine, asked what it was, and I was able to identify this amazing creation as a…fuchsia!

So NOW who’s laughing?

How could anyone not love this delicate ballerina of a flower?

Flower fairy and poem credit to https://flowerfairies.com/

Fuchsia is a dancer
Dancing on her toes,
Clad in red and purple,
By a cottage wall;
Sometimes in a greenhouse,
In frilly white and rose,
Dressed in her best for the fairies’ evening ball!

Garden Gossip: What’s Growing Out and In

Before it gets so hot and dry that everything dies a slow and painful death, here’s a few pics from the garden:

The raspberries aren’t ready to eat, but oh so pretty cherry red.

Still thriving; a decades old bottlebrush.

Flowers everywhere!

Photobombed by my resident Scott’s Oriole. What a show off! Look at how adept he is balancing on the tip of an agave.

And then he flew over to the bottlebrush in time to get his photo taken again.

I have pretty good luck propagating alstroemeria; now it’s blooming everywhere!

And indoors, it looks like all these plants are growing out of the fireplace, but this is where they get the perfect amount of diffused light. My Monstera looks bright and healthy living her best life with a fresh white orchid.

Lots of happy plants in and out. I hope you enjoyed this tour of Casa de Enchanted Seashells!

The Velveteen Rabbit

I read The Velveteen Rabbit to both Angels and I’m not sure they loved it as much as I did, but it did give us an opportunity to have a chat about my favorite part.

T ran to his bedroom to find his dad’s teddy which now belongs to the kids, so I think they understood the story’s valuable message.

“Like this, Grandma?” “Where Daddy’s puppy chewed on Teddy’s ear?”

“Exactly!” “Teddy’s been loved a lot, hasn’t he?”

T brought Teddy to Dad so he could give him an extra hug. “Hug him, Daddy. He misses you.”

I wish I had a photo of that precious moment, but it’s captured in my heart forever.

“You become. It takes a long time. That’s why it doesn’t happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in your joints and very shabby.
But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.”

Margery Williams Bianco – The Velveteen Rabbit, 1923.

Self Portrait

The Angels love to look through the photos on my phone, especially all the ones I’ve taken of them, of course.

When we clicked on this rose, I told them it was a selfie of ME cos I’m Princess Rosebud. They thought that was funny but being their dad’s kids, they just HAD to disagree…

“Grandma, you are so annoying! You aren’t a REAL princess!”

“Yes, I am.” I replied. “And you are Princess Charlotte and Prince Theodore.”

“Dad, Grandma’s being annoying again!”

OMG did they just tattle about me to my original Angel Boy? That’s too funny.

From the other room, I hear him say, “Mom, stop being annoying.”

I guess that’s going to be my legacy…however, we’re all royalty around here, so I thought I’d share this little joke to start the week.

This particular rose smells as good as she looks. Spicy and sweet, just like me.

I think a backstory needed to explain the origin of being called “annoying”, thanks to my new friend, wonderfully talented author Debbie Russell. I should have explained it in more detail and to be fair to the Angels.

I first began to reference myself that way when I bothered them as they were busy doing things (just to be funny) like standing in front of the TV during a show they were watching and I’d say, “Aren’t I the most annoying Grandma?” and they’d say “Yes, you are! Stop it!” And I’d stop, of course. Also for example, when I’d read a book to them, a book I’d literally read a thousand times before, to make it more interesting for ME, I’d change the names or spice up the story a bit differently, mainly to see if they were paying attention (which they were) and then they’d say, “Read the exact words, Grandma!” which I thought was pretty cute. And then I’d say, “Do you find it annoying when I do that?” The answer was always yes.

The Angels weren’t being disrespectful. Grandma was!

Sunday Stroll in the Neighborhood

A May gray morning is the perfect weather for a walk.

My hydrangea is blooming and yes, I know I could turn the flowers blue with the correct fertilizer, but I decided to allow them to retain their natural hue without intervention.

At sundown, this is where I often see coyotes, but nothing right now.

Here’s the entrance to a lagoon path; how adorable is this community fairy village?

I’m not too sure what that big square thingy is on the shoreline, but I didn’t want to walk in the muck with my good walking shoes, so it’ll have to remain a mystery.

It’s rattlesnake season, so I diligently watched where I was going and spied a strange object. It’s not exactly a rock but feels heavy for its size and to me, it looks like a whale. Another treasure to bring home!

I hope your Sunday is happy!

Bird Buddy: Scott’s Orioles

They’re back! Nothing says springtime like a visit from these guys.

Scott’s Orioles are so deliciously bright and vibrant and they very rarely sit still long enough to get a good photo. I was in the right place at the right time for sure!

Look at this male beauty perched on my grapevine.

Gift With Purchase

How does a three year old know me so well?

Her mom purchased a bottle of perfume and it came with a fancy little cosmetic bag full of samples.

Apparently, as the story was told to me, Angel Girl told Mom she had to “save the bag for Grandma” ‘cos “she loves stuff like that.”

She was a thousand percent correct. I LOVE gifts with purchase because it’s like discovering a surprise treasure chest.

How did she know?

I mean, we share the Chanel connection and the ballerina connection, but gift with purchase?

How could this obviously intuitive child see so deeply inside of me?

That’s too much. My heart can’t take it. The joy.

Every single time I use that little bag, I’ll think about my Angel, and smile.

Yup. She gets me.

F.E.A.R.

I don’t have a great knowledge of Zig Ziglar’s works or motivational philosophy but this saying resonates with me.

“F-E-A-R has two meanings: Forget Everything And Run or Face Everything And Rise. The choice is yours.” Zig Ziglar.

Public Toilet Wisdom: Written on the Walls

I walked to the beach during a May gray morning and sat on top of my usual picnic table to overlook the Pacific Ocean, hoping to see a whale or some dolphins.

I didn’t get lucky this time, but there was a crowded lineup of surfers out there and I couldn’t figure out why ‘cos the waves weren’t all that big.

As I took off my hat, unbraided my hair and shook it free from its constraints to feel the salty breeze, I turned around because I could feel someone standing behind me.

It was a man I often see at the beach; I’m not sure if he’s exactly unsheltered or not, but he stays there for hours, working on a crossword puzzle or reading. I’ve chatted with him a dozen times as he’s a fixture on the boardwalk and he’s very friendly, not at all like the the other guy who wanted to write on me and claim ownership!

He said, “Excuse me for saying so, but you have no idea the unmitigated joy you gave me as I watched you liberate your hair. You have the most beautiful curls, and I wanted to say thank you! That made me very happy.”

His language and phrasing was delightful; old worldly elegant, courtly, very much the gentleman.

I was caught off guard by his lovely comment and thanked him profusely. It made my day even more joyful, that’s for sure.

Before I walked home, I stopped at the restroom. Look at what I found written on the wall! So inspirational!

It’s a manta and an affirmation to love oneself and I couldn’t resist snapping a photo.

PS WordPress is so weird. I didn’t publish this until today, the 15th, but it appears as if I published it the 14th, which I did not. WP is strange…