Common wisdom dictates that the first rule of not going crazy is never to google your cardiac symptoms. Numerous tests have shown my arrhythmia to be benign, so I've pretty much put it out of my mind, except when playing my flute. That little stutter every fourth beat always throws me off if I'm not paying attention. My heart beats to a different drum, but I'm finally learning how to navigate the poly-rhythms.
Living well with chronic illness is, to a large extent, a mental game. No amount of positive thinking will give us a normal life, but sometimes mindset can make the difference between being stuck in bed all day, and being stuck in bed most of the day. We take what we can get, and we live with very little margin for error.
Once while I was in high school, maybe six months after the onset of my symptoms, I woke up feeling unexpectedly wonderful. My mind was clear, my joints only ached a little bit, and I had more energy that I'd had in weeks. It was glorious. I decided to surprise my mother by secretly getting all sorts of homeschool work done, while pretending to be as incapacitated as the day before. It backfired horribly. Feigned lethargy quickly became very real, and by afternoon I had relapsed altogether.
It's a lesson I've taken to heart. I have to make the most of every good moment, gathering enough joy to propel me forward, postpone the next relapse, hopefully make it as mild as possible. Keeping my morale up is no small feat when my whole body hurts, and this strategy isn't without its drawbacks; invisible illnesses are even harder to explain when you smile all the time. It's better than the alternative, though, so I work hard to keep my chin up. A joyful heart makes good medicine indeed.
Most of my symptoms, I've googled like crazy, as one does when the battery of blood tests fails to produce answers. After all these years, my sister finally has a diagnosis, and it appears to be genetic, so I'm praying that I will soon be able to get some medical help that actually helps. In the mean time, I'm always looking for ways to maximize my health on my own. I play around with sundry herbs, craft my own antibiotics out of kitchen staples, and make music like my life depends on it.
Last week I finally broke down and googled my arrhythmia. It turns out that in cardiac terms, "benign" simply means that I'm not about to drop dead. It doesn't mean I won't be dizzy and out of breath all the time. All those years of anxiously wondering why the blood work never gave any answers, and what if this was all in my head and I was going crazy... well, this might have been good to know.
I'd thought that if I could just avoid thinking about my heart, I could protect myself from anxiety. Funny how that backfired.
I'm learning once again that the antidote to fear is always joy, never ignorance. You have to face the struggle head-on, or it will constantly ambush you, but then you also have to seek joy out, treat it as if it's more real than pain.
Which it is.
And now I think I'll practice my flute. Today's challenge is to turn my scales into something beautiful enough to stay on beat.
