In This Edition:
1. The Pleasure of Living without Health Concerns
2. A Lingering Notion
3. Golden Insights
The Pleasure of Living without Health Concerns
This month I have a long, highly personal story to which many of you will
easily relate. Five years ago, after recovering from a herniated disk, I began a vigorous
walking program. My doctor told me not to run for a while, and it was too
cold to start swimming in the lake so walking seemed to be the perfect
exercise. I was able to go on long walks, sometimes 30, 60, 90, or even 120
minutes.
One Wednesday afternoon after work, when I probably should have had a large
glass of water before taking off, I left my office and preceded towards
Franklin Street to eventually wind up at the Chapel Hill School of Ballet
and meet my daughter who was finishing her class. I had already been
walking for 20 or 25 minutes when I decided to go up the hill at Tadzwell
Road. It is a steep climb on the order of 30 or 35 degrees. I vigorously
preceded up the hill about 450 steps, then made my way down, and finally
walked out to Franklin Street.
With about five minutes to go, I was feeling fine. I got to the school,
walked in, and took a look at my daughter, who was still in rehearsal, and
came back out. On the sidewalk outside the building, I did stretches. In
one, I raised both hands up to the sky and then looked up as well. The
blood from my arms came rushing down into my head. I felt a warm, distant,
foggy sensation, and the next thing I knew, I was on the hard sidewalk,
getting up from what had been a fall.
Apparently, for the first time in my life, I had fainted. Since the
sidewalk was on a bit of an incline, falling straight down would mean that
my right buttocks would hit the concrete first, which it did. I was a
little sore, but none the worse for wear. I got up, went inside, and took
some water. What a strange situation.
A Lingering Notion
Over the next couple days, my right side hurt, but there was no apparent
injury. I was leery of taking vigorous walks and of doing that same
stretch. About three days after the event, the most God-awful looking
bruise appeared on my right cheek. It started out the size of a ping pong
ball, then grew to that of two, then to the size of a fist. Its color
changed daily.
At its zenith, the bruise was the size of a softball, tender to touch and
terrible to view. Funny, but I didn't feel that bad, and it wasn't all that
sore. However, I was concerned about the fainting. A week later I was in a
bookstore and, looking at some books at the bottom of the shelf, I knelt
down. I became light-headed again and had to hold onto the shelf to steady
my balance. Now I was worried. I didn't know when or where that
lightheaded feeling would come up again, but I didn't like it.
Over the next few weeks, the light-headed "pre-faint" feeling kept
occurring, just for a second or two. Sometimes it happened when I was
seated and stood up quickly, sometimes when I was walking, sometimes when I
was simply turning around. All of my internal and external senses were on
high alert, and what had probably been normal bodily functions for all of my
life now rang out with alarm. My perceptors were on full volume, and I
didn't like it.
I was convinced to take a physical. I hadn't had one in about ten years and
it certainly made sense to do so.
Golden Insights
At my exam I met Dr. Dale Beiber, who has since retired from practice. I explained the phenomenon to him. Dr.
Beiber, a wise and optimistic man told me that for all these years I had had
the pleasure of living without health concerns, and now, for perhaps the
first time, I was confronting them. This single observation proved to be a
Godsend for me.
Immediately after that exam, I went back to the vigorous walking and as the
lake season began, starting swimming. I swam long and hard and had not one
iota of a tremor of light-headedness. For only that brief lapse I had
fallen into the trap in which, I guess, so many others become enmeshed -
letting whatever ailment startled them become an intermittent panic button.
I recall the time I had a panic attack on a plane flight, more than 30 years ago.
Following the flight, I took a taxi to the George Washington University
emergency room. There, a wise physician told me that there was nothing wrong
with me, and if I weren't careful, I could become a "cardiac cripple." My
sister had died a month before and my father eighteen months before that,
both of heart attacks. I was simulating, through some deep, empathetic
response, the conditions that they had experienced. I was completely
healthy, but my mind and body were telling me that something was dreadfully
wrong.
So too with the fainting incident. I was as healthy as I could be. The
reasons for passing out were abundantly clear. It was at the end of a long
work day, and I was a bit dehydrated. I had taken a vigorous walk, which
most people at any age would have difficulty completing. I had stretched in
a manner that made blood rush to my head. I had tilted my head up, which
diminished the functioning of a vital artery. The resulting experience was
momentary lapse of consciousness.
The random sensation of light-headedness in the weeks that followed was
analogous to the cardiac crippling phenomenon. In both cases, I was
perfectly healthy, but allowed my imagination to get the better of my body.
The cost of that check up, whatever it was, was a bargain. Meeting with Dr.
Beiber freed me to get back into a physical training schedule commensurate
with my capabilities and desires.
As I write this now, I am approaching the best shape of my life, even
exceeding that of when I was twenty-six -- when I could dunk a basketball,
run like a deer, and swim forever!
