Thursday, March 18, 2010

The Downside of Health

I get a little nervous every time my heart skips a beat.

When I’m just sitting at my desk and my heart starts acting wonky like it did the other day, I start thinking about the worst case scenario.

What if my heart is messed up again? What if the fix was only temporary and not effective anymore?

If I knew that I was going to be sick again in a year or two I would live a bit differently.

I would go to Ireland this summer to see where my grandpa’s family came from. Then I would fly over to France, Spain, Italy, Switzerland, and other cool countries in the area.

I would push myself harder on the treadmill, get to a run faster.

I would get a tattoo of a heart somewhere on my body. Maybe I should do that one anyway.

If I thought my sickness would kill me, I would quit my job to spend every day with my daughter, and my husband would hear cheesy love proclamations twice a day. Why can’t I do that now?

Knowing how hard it was to think when my heart was sick, I would get off my ass and re-write my second novel. I shouldn’t need the fear of losing my wits to do that. But I would be less afraid of looking like an idiot, and more afraid of losing my chance.

Here’s the thing: I could get sick again. It might not even be my heart next time. In fact, I will get sick eventually and die. But I’m feeling a little complacent these days. I’ve lost the edge that came with finally being healthy. Health is expected now, just two years after maybe never being healthy again.

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