Some very good news

full moon, full heart (still a slug)

As long-time readers [read: very patient, much-neglected readers] know, 2023 was not my best year.

It started with a recent diagnosis of heart failure and a frighteningly under-performing heart. Both my poor heart function and the medication regimen I was put on made me extremely fatigued, though in retrospect I realize I had been experiencing pretty extreme fatigue for quite a long time before my diagnosis. The meds were supposed to improve my heart function, but a March 2023 MRI suggested that they had not. At all. My heart function was still startlingly low (for anyone who knows about ejection fraction, mine was 18%; normal is 50 to 70%).

I was assured the meds could take more than a year to take effect, but in the meantime I was a prime candidate for a pacemaker/defibrillator, which was installed last May. Then one of the pacemaker’s leads was making muscles in my ribs flutter and then it started poking me painfully and it was also a constant reminder that I was sick, and so it had to come out and a new one put in. That was basically a second pacemaker surgery in November.

In between the two, Joel had major neck surgery, a short hospitalization for heart arrhythmia, and in the midst of his recovery I got violently ill for a week with a GI bug, followed soon after by an infected toe that kept me shoeless for a month and a half. Oh, and I’m pretty sure I had a minor case of shingles.What I never had was any dramatic improvement in my energy levels, though the new lead at least made it possible for me to sleep on my left side, which is pretty central to my getting a good night’s sleep.

And then in the middle of December, my blood pressure inched down to dangerously low levels, and I fainted once, right into the dog’s water bowl (I did not hurt myself). So we adjusted one of my meds, and my blood pressure rose to levels that can sustain life and consciousness—and then we left for a week long visit over Christmas (in the new van! Though it was too cold to camp, but more on that soon) with Joel’s mother, who is lovely, and amazingly sprightly, and who took incredible care of us. It was so rejuvenating. When we returned, my energy did too, which I chalked up to the power of an actual vacation (as opposed to our usual staycation), and I vowed to take more of them in 2024.

I also set an intention to spend more time with people locally, and create a little social group. And do more community stuff. And pay more attention to the cycles of nature, especially the moon, and create more ritual in my life, and generally just be more witchy and mad (as in lunar loony, not particularly angry, though that sometimes too)

My energy levels continued to be up through the New Year, and when I arrived at a long-scheduled echocardiogram earlier this week, just to take a look under the hood and see how my heart function was going, I repeated like a mantra throughout the exam what my wonderful cardiologist always reminds me of: the numbers don’t matter nearly as much as how I’m feeling, and I’m feeling great.

But still. It was a little daunting to actually find out for sure, after almost a year of being resigned to living the rest of my life with a very sick heart. I had literally no expectation that the numbers might have improved, and by the time I arrived home I was in quite a somber mood.

I ignored the call when it came and let it go to voicemail.

And then I cried when I read the transcript of the voicemail from one of the wonderful nurses at my cardiac clinic: my heart function has not only improved, but it’s back in the normal range (50% ejection fraction).

I’m flabbergasted. I’m stunned.

I spent a year wrapping my head around the fact that I was very very sick, after never having been sick in my life (physically, at least). And around feeling very very old. Like I had skipped right past middle age and into old old age before I was even 60. Now I feel like my right age again, like something slotted back into place suddenly and totally unexpectedly, and it’s disorienting. Lovely, but disorienting. I still don’t understand any of it.

I do know that early on in my illness, I had resigned myself to having a slower, smaller life, and had pared back my personal expectations of what I might accomplish to the core of what I actually *want* to do with my life. And then I went from resigning myself to that fate, to actually embracing it.

I realized I really like my slow, small life.

And I still do. I have no plans to amp up my expectations, though I am happy to approach the things that actually matter to me with a tiny bit less exhaustion, a tiny bit more energy.

This evening, on the full moon, and with a full heart, I am hosting a few friends for drinks and snacks, and then we are headed to Imperfect Gallery, a very cool, unpretentious local art gallery for the opening of a show featuring queer Black artists called “you bring me joy!”

And it’s all giving me so much joy. I’m looking forward to more house projects, more house parties, more trips in the van to beautiful places—and I’m looking forward to writing more here, and more frequently—though as always, no promises.

I want to thank those of you who have signed on with paid subscriptions to support my work, even as I was unable to do much of it over the past year. You really do have my heart. I will be in touch with you soon, and have a few subscriber-only things to share in the near future. In the meantime, thank you so very much!