Heart Failure

I haven't written in a week because every day something seemed to happen that sapped me and left me wanting to curl up in a fetal position in bed. I didn't but also didn't write.

Then came yesterday.

When I had told my cardiologist about my latest ER trip, he seemed to think it normal. For some reason, he thinks I am out of shape. I am confident I am not.

I asked him yesterday if it was OK to bike.

He responded with a long email with several points. This is the one I latch onto: He wants me to see the Advanced Heart Failure team of cardiologists at a local hospital.

I find myself wanting to sing, "Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da," except life doesn't go on when your heart fails.

I am not sure why I struggle so much when I am screwed.