Coming Clean

It dawned on me when my stepfather was in the hospital that I am the sum of ALL of my parts. One might think that I would have already realized this during my last 38 years on the planet, but I've not been that truthful with myself for the majority of them.

No, when it came to certain aspects of my whole being, I simply continued to believe things that I had been told my whole life. Things like... I favor my mom's side of the family, I am not athletic, I am funny but not intelligent... things like that.

I never really thought to re-examine whether or not these descriptions were still true or if the mere assumptions of me really reflected anything that remotely resembled me. I found that for decades I played the role I was given without question. I guess we all get caught up in that sometimes.

So backtrack to a couple of weeks ago when I was at Papa's bedside after his second angioplasty and I realized that I am not immune to the serious heart disease that runs rampant on my Dad's side of the family. Sure, I may look like my Mom. I may have low blood pressure, a runner's heart rate and lead a pretty healthy lifestyle, but that doesn't mean I am not my father's daughter.

Wake up call. I never told anyone that after completing mile 40 and returning to the 3 Day camp last year I had to be taken to the Emergency Room. It was surreal. While icing my calf I mentioned to the medical staff that I felt like I had a back pack on the front of me. Weird, huh? Before I knew it, I was hooked up to machines in the back of an ambulance.

Staring at the ceiling I contemplated that my Dad never made it to this place before he passed. Once the paramedic reported my stats, the sirens wailed and I felt the truck lurch as it urgently gained speed. When in doubt I make a deal with the force greater than I. Give me another chance and I will do things the right way this time. But after all was said and done, did I?

After getting back to camp, I raced into the showers to loosen my muscles and wash off the hospital stench. When I walked out of the small stall to grab my towel two young gals gasped while staring at my naked body. (Okay, first the hospital fiasco now gapers? Having a bad day here!) Almost instinctively I wrapped the skimpy towel around me and stared into their eyes almost shouting "What?" They pointed at my now semi-dry, aching body and said "What happened to you?" (Loaded question. Years of therapy couldn't unravel THAT one. Maybe they are shocked at the ravages of aging or motherhood? These are very timid girls.) Before I could answer they said "What are those?" (Now I got a little testy, but glanced down anyway. Please don't be talking about my dwindling bustline!!) "OOOOhhhhhhhhh! THOSE! (I forgot that I had those sticky heart monitor circles strategically placed all over my body) ...I had a cardiac event." And I walked out.

Sure, I was given a second chance but what did I do? Knocked off a funny little joke (at least I thought so) took it easy on the last 20 miles but finished them anyway. Against doctor's orders. They were wrong, I thought. How could I have heart problems? I am not the one with heart problems. I have low blood pressure. I am immune.

Now little by little I realize some of those old beliefs are no longer relevant. I understand that I can't pick and choose which traits of my parents I possess. I am as athletic as I make up my mind to be. I don't have to act funny to have self worth. And I need to trust my intellect.

Fast forward to tomorrow when I get on the treadmill for my echocardiogram. After coming clean with my doctor on a whole gamut of issues I tried to rationalize away, I am getting an overhaul. Not a tune up, an overhaul. And I am taking care of the sum of all of my parts.