URBANNA — Shortly after returning on a what I called facetiously, “The trip of a Lifetime,” (because the trip was so stressful) a vacation to celebrate our 60th wedding anniversary, something odd happened. Or maybe my serialized columns describing my trip actually foreshadowed what was bound to happen.
One evening soon after our return I rose from the sofa and the next thing I knew I awoke sprawled flat on the floor.
It was eerie finding myself looking up into the brown eyes of my cocker spaniel “Dandy,” who was standing over me looking down at me with concern. Thank goodness I regained consciousness just seconds before a very pink and wet tongue was about to lick my face.
My world was suddenly turned upside down. I had to think who and where I was and wonder whatever was I doing on the floor?
I pulled myself up using the hallway molding to steady myself and headed back to the sofa. I was confused. I must have fainted.
The next morning, I was sitting in my doctor’s office sporting a black eye that made me look like I was related to Ricky Raccoon, whom I feed occasionally, and hearing Dr. Cubbage from White Stone Family Practice lecture me on lesson number 1: whenever you faint, you call 911 immediately and head right to the emergency room.
My black-out triggered various tests to determine what caused me to lose consciousness. I told the doctor as I occasionally will do that I thought it was nothing to worry about and that I had just been over stressed of late.
He wasn’t convinced. “It’s either brain tumor, clogged carotid arteries or heart,” he explained. I didn’t like the sound of any of his choices and secretly felt he was wrong. Everyone knows stress can do terrible things to a person.
I was directed to Riverside Hospital in Newport News to have a heart event monitor fastened to my chest. But I foolishly delayed the test a month because I wanted to swim in the Urbanna Harbour pool in September. Which leads me to lesson number 2: Don’t delay heart monitor tests when your doctor orders it.
Meanwhile I did brain and carotid artery scans and they were fine. I could easily do those tests because they wouldn’t interfere with my swimming schedule.
In October I finally made it to the cardiology department at Riverside Hospital. My instructions were to wear the heart monitor for two weeks to see if there was some irregularity in my heartbeat that had caused the fall.
It was only a small and painless device attached to my chest above my heart but I disliked it mightily. I felt like a stuck pig and complained to anyone who would listen to me. (Dandy.) Lesson number 3: It’s foolish to complain about tests that could save your life.
But as luck would have it, or perhaps better said as bad luck would have it, I only had to wear it one night. It was almost as if my heart took offense at its beat being recorded by some manmade device and kicked up an immediate fuss. Fortunately, I slept right through it.
The next morning was glorious. The sun was streaming into the kitchen from a blue sky that reflected the shimmering Rappahannock River. As I stood spellbound gazing out the window it seemed to me the world was rejoicing in the light.
I was happy because it was Friday and Chip, who had recently gone back to work, was taking a day off from the law office and we had planned some fun.
I was daydreaming, too, remembering mornings growing up long ago in Ohio on the shore of Lake Erie. I thought of Father and how he would greet the morning on a beautiful sunny day. He would throw open the front door and sing a few merry stanzas of “nothing could be finer than to awake in Carolina in the mooorning!”
I never wondered why someone living in Ohio would sing such a song. If Father did it, it would be alright with me. I just loved his exuberance, eternal good cheer and bright optimism … traits I rather wished I had inherited.
My reverie was interrupted by Chip’s cell phone. It was Dr. Cubbage, of all things … he had been trying to reach me for the last hour. He needed to speak to me immediately.
“How are you feeling?” he asked in a concerned voice. I was dumbfounded. Why would my doctor be calling me on a Friday at 9 a.m. and asking me how I was feeling? My brain was grasping hard to find some logic to my doctor’s strange question.
© 2023