Nitro. Part 1

Some things that treat heart disease have stood the test of time. My surgery, implants, and education are all new. My first line of defense is over 125 years old. It works so well and so quickly that heart patients still reach for it first before they even call for help. When I'm flat on my back on the floor this tiny pill becomes my Alpha and Omega. My please, please, please. My warning shot. I'd like you to meet nitroglycerin.

Last week I got caught in the rain on my walk. It felt so good (and so did I!) that by the time I got to the marina's dock boards I kicked off my flip flops and jogged the rest of the way. Corey had stepped outside to see me and I jumped right into his arms. There's something to be said about marrying a man that will catch his soaked to the skin wife and kiss her back in the rain. 20 minutes later he's asking me where my pills are. I honestly don't know what happened. One minute I was fine. Happy, calm, and flirting with Corey. The next I'm pouring sweat and on the floor. I'm not going to lie to you guys. Chest pain freaking hurts. Bad. It's a sharp, stabbing pain and it feels "hot" for lack of a better word. I felt queasy first, then a little dizzy, then I noticed I was starting to sweat. Not good. It's not much of a warning. Sharp stabbing pain then I'm making friends with the carpet with Corey hovering and clutching his cell phone. I took one nitro tablet and sweat it out on the floor. One and done. The pain fades, then goes away completely. I bumped Corey with my foot to get him to stop pacing and sat up. See? Nothing to worry about. Nooo biggie. I got up slowly and called my cardiologist. After hanging up with him I kissed my husband and made lunch. The day goes on right?

I'm fine. I have something called heart spasms. It seems my heart likes to lock up and squeeze itself every once in a while. So far my stent has survived the squeeze (It better!) and is still working well. If I keep my nitro tablets close to me I can treat the pressure to my heart. The pain is just a side effect. It lets me know I need a little outside help. What happens is my heart doesn't get enough blood and oxygen due to the squeeze. It starts to race and the pressure builds as it tries to do it's job while starving itself. My cardiologist is well aware of this little "problem" and I call him if it happens. We're treating it aggressively and it IS helping. The problem is knowing what is just spasm pain and what is an attack. If you don't have a cardiologist on speed dial then you need to go to the hospital. Period. There is no book, no set rules for every episode. I talk to my doctor monthly and see him almost as much. He has 9 months worth of heart data on me that make it okay for me to call him first if I only take one pill.

Part one of this blog post just covered the why. Part 2 will cover the how. You'll be surprised! It's an interesting little story! I do want to say this though. If you ever have chest pain, call 911. Immediately. It can absolutely save your life. I just can't say it enough guys. Want to know something else? I'm grateful for this little pill. In a way I'm even grateful for the chest pain. It makes kissing Corey in the rain that much more precious. I don't think about how it ruins my day. I think about how it's giving me one more day pain free and able to do the things I love with the people I love more. Sometimes gifts have a price. This may happen, sure. Who knows for how long? It's not the end of the world though and with nitro I'm fine. Good as new and ready to go so stay tuned! Part 2 coming soon!

And them there were two.

Squirrel! Oh, CUTE a baby squirrel! And I'm off. Ambling away after something else instead of doing what I'm supposed to be doing. Cardiac exercise. More often then not, my walks turn into rambling nature exhibits. I've come home with rocks, flowers, and wet sandy feet. I've met Big Ugly, baby raccoons, and all of the water birds I love so much. I end up throwing sticks for dogs on the beach or worse, parked on the dock boards petting our marina cat Chuck. I love walking outside but I love BEING outside more.

Check out my flower. I brought it home after a rather unfortunate encounter with it's friend. I sat on it. Look at the thorns! I had a choice of either making friends with the flower or making friends with the car barreling towards me. I chose the nice, pretty flowers. After getting a closer look at it, I wish I'd found a safer place to land. The scuff mark this pretty pink flower left was pretty impressive. Walk aborted. I picked it's friend, then headed for home to show my Heart Nazi and put a cold pack on my scratched up tushy.

I've been motivated to get back on my Hampster Wheel. The treadmill awaits! I got an email today that made my day! Another one of you has listened to me AND what their body was saying and has gone to the doctor. You guys make me cry. Reader L., I can't thank you enough. It takes a special kind of courage to go in then make the changes to save your life. You make the second person to contact me and tell me how a bloggie girl in Alabama sent you to the doctor. I'm stunned into single words. Here's a few for you. Humbled, touched, proud, grateful, and excited!

What suprises me is that Reader L.'s doctor recommended 3-4 days a week of exercise. Nothing else. Hello? Details! So here you go my very brave heart buddy. He means CARDIAC exercise. Find a Hampster Wheel a.k.a. a treadmill and crank it out. Start at a brisk walk and go from there. I'm cracked out on the rowing machine. I could stay on that thing all day. If you can, try the elliptical. It's a heartrate buster, but if you can keep it down, it's a great machine. Best of all walk, walk, walk. In this case, more is better! I turn my iPod to earsplitting and go until my time is up. Shake your butt to the beat and keep one eye on your heartrate. Pretty soon, with some diet changes, you'll notice amazing results.

Also weights. LIGHT weight training is fine. If you're experienced, you can do a bit more. No grunting, major lifting, or heavy strain is what I was told. In Gillianese, "Keep it tone but keep it tame!" Stretch before and after so you're not pitiful the next day. I promise it helps the heart and keeps you from whining to anyone that will listen that your butt hurts.

I am so, so proud of you guys! I'm climbing on my Hampster Wheel (and avoiding nature walks) with you guys in mind. We can ALL be healthier and happier! I never would have thought so many of you would read my little blog. Today my exercise is going to feel like I'm chasing some of you, walking with some of you, and winking at a few of you that are thinking about joining in. You're invited! Thank you so much my friends. I'm touched. More then you'll ever know. I'll try very hard to make you proud.

Oh Deer!!!

I'd never have believed it if I hadn't seen it myself. COREY GOT BOMBED BY A DEER!!! I.`Kid. You. Not. Three dogs flushed a small doe out of the trees and chased it into the marina. It hid in the bushes near where my husband was standing and then burst out right in front of him! Deer bomb! It clattered around the side of the building and then into the boatyard. Here's a good example of our faces = O.O

A deer? Here? Really? Once we managed to close our mouths and get over the shock of a large critter running at my husband we took off in pursuit. We followed the little guy's tracks and they ended here! It jumped in the water!!! She must have been pretty flipped out and tried to stop. Does that look like a deer skid mark to anyone else besides me? To make the evening even stranger, the Fairhope police made an appearance a short while later. Someone had called and reported a small deer "stuck" in the water. It seems every time the police show up it's because of a critter bomb of some kind. Last year's Gatorgeddon comes to mind.

This random guy caught this gator while he was fishing last year. He brought it to us because we were "experienced" mariners and he thought we'd know what to to. Sure we did! The police were once again involved and it was decided to let the little guy go. It's his marina to. Before you ask, I loved him! Call me crazy but I think he's cute. The gator, not Random Guy. Corey deposited the gator on the beach and all was well. At least for the gator. (Spooky ghost story voice) But if you were to dip your toes on our beach, WATCH OUT! He's awfully angry... Kidding, kidding. I've seen him several times. He's a sissy and swims away from pelicans. He's not dangerous at all.

Anyway, back to the deer. She's apparently fine. Deer can swim. Am I the only person on earth that didn't know that? She was last seen paddling up the creek and likely got out at the nearest low spot. I wish I had a pho-doe of her but I was too busy staring like an idiot at the deer clattering around. Sorry. Silly me. I promise to do better the next time a large animal runs at one of us in this crazy place we call home.

Oh snap...

I busted my screwdriver. Actually, I busted my HUSBAND'S screwdriver. The specialised caulk-digger-outter tool was a total failure but I wouldn't give up. I snuck a little screwdriver out of Corey's toolbox and hacked away. Success! The itty bitty green screwdriver worked like a charm. I've spent the past week happily wielding that sucker while I worked on my first "dude" project. By the last day I'm bloody, I'm blistered, and I have a suspicious swollen, squishy knot in the palm of my hand. Ouch. I also have more tan lines then anyone would want to claim and likely 100 new freckles. Go me.

I was down to the laaaast 2 feet of my boards when my screwdriver gave out. The tip snapped off. Frankly, I'm just glad the screwdriver called it quits before I did. Thanks to the blood thinners I have bandaids on top of my bandaids. I confessed all to my Heart Nazi and learned I felt guilty over nothing! That stinkin' screwdriver came free in some kind of automotive kit. The tool I picked was a worthless little thing. As I was almost done (and still stubborn) Corey produced a nifty Craftsman for me to finish up with. As of yesterday I AM DONE!

I have to say... I'm proud of Corey. It can't be fun watching your wife, who's medicated up to her eyeballs, hack away at our beloved boat with a screwdriver as her chosen tool. I don't want any help, I don't need to rest, I'm not burned, it's just a little blood. You get the idea. He's a trooper. My boards are such a success I'm moving onto the next stage of this project. Sanding! How awesome is this guys? I get a power tool! Sorry, but never in my life did I ever have a desire to play with such things. Oprah would say it's outside of my box. I get to add and cross it off my bucket list. Cool huh?

Also, a Big Ugly update. It seems I have something else to feel guilty about this week. He's shown back up and he has a bald spot on his butt. His missing tail feathers are still missing. Did I really hurt him? He's still as nasty and mean as ever but he's keeping his distance. I saw him the other day chasing someones yellow lab down the beach so he SEEMS fine. Anybody? If you kick a mutant duck in the butt do the feathers grow back?

Blah.

Whoever made my marina smell like french toast this morning is mean. I hope you stub your toe today you toast stinker. I'm holding you responsible for my english toast and Whoppers breakfast. Now I'm green, and pitiful, and I still want french toast. Yuck.

Hey guys? Did you know Whoppers were really low in fat? Check it out!

Serving size 18 Whoppers
Calories 190
Total Fat 7g
Sodium 115mg

WHO eats 18 Whoppers?!? I had 8. And a muffin. Ugh. Gross. I'm blaming the french toast fumigator for eating that much sugar before 7am. This is not cool. I'm laying down, praying I don't hurk up candy I shouldn't have eaten, and taking a nap. Redo. Gimme. Mulligan. I'm finishing up my caulk project today so I'm crashing for a bit then getting to it. Just one more reason to not like you french toast stinker. Now it'll be hot and I'll be burned. Okay? The Whoppers are YOUR fault. And the sunburn. Surely it's not mine right? Right? Catch you guys later. I'm crashing!