( a look back and a look forward)
I read an article by a leading psychologist recently citing that there is actually a term known as ‘The Sunday Scaries’. Nothing at all to do with Halloween, the phrase refers to a different kind of spectre. It’s the sinking feeling of dread that people experience when the weekend is closing and anticipatory anxieties about the pressures of the working week begin to rise.
Most people are familiar with the flip side too. That light and airy TGIF feeling. The work is done and a few days of relative freedom or at least different routine lie ahead.
My experience has been the reverse. Far from that deep exhale of relief brought about by ‘Thank Goodness it’s Friday’ – for the past two years, my TGIF has been more like ‘Tense gasp – it’s Friday’ Or ‘Take guard – it’s Friday’. Basically, buckle up and steel myself for the ride! Maybe it’s little wonder that my shoulders and neck remain glitched up even now. It takes a while to unlearn that type of chronic tension built from years of having no control over one’s errant heart’s behaviour nor the ensuing cascade of events which follow.
In October 2021, my heart suddenly stepped up a gear in terms of its misbehaviour – quite spooktacularly- on Halloween! We’d had a lovely day out with a bit of walking followed by some sweet treats. Little did I know that I’d end up being rushed into the resuscitation room later that night. It was a Sunday, and also the end of British Summer Time – the night for the clocks to change. Hooked up to the monitors in that room it was evident that my heart was racing erratically – then it suddenly dropped to 30bpm and my BP tanked. As the clock fell back, I felt myself falling down into unconsciousness. Thankfully the medical team was right there at hand and action was taken to remedy the situation quickly. I was left shaken by it all though. My body literally used that extra hour trembling involuntarily in shock.
From then on, the frequency of sporadic fast prolonged abnormal rhythm episodes and hospitalisations increased dramatically. I must say, it has been a long and arduous 24 months culminating in my most recent remedial surgeries. I counted 24 hospitalisations in 2 years – mostly happening without warning – and usually in the middle of the night, waking me from deep sleep – often at weekends. This type of heart disruption pays no respect to the conventional working week and is predictably unpredictable, tending to strike when it’s least convenient!
I used to especially dread Fridays and I’d count down the 62 hours from Friday GP closure to til Monday morning opening. I’d feel victorious and mightily relieved to make it through the weekend unscathed. The healthcare system is harder and slower to navigate when GP surgeries are closed, even in emergency situations. That, coupled with increased pressure on ambulances and A&E at weekends and covid causing major backlogs and waiting times, made the prospect of the end of each week loom large. Weekday nights never felt quite as threatening as I could rely on the normal GP and cardiology services resuming in the mornings. Somehow that accessibility brought some reassurance.
Ironically, this year World Heart Day fell on a Friday. But this time I was able to celebrate the day with a level of confidence!
So, we’re in October again and here I am, on the other side of several heart procedures which were designed to fix my rhythm. I am thankful for all the care I have received and for the many people I have met along the way. I have learned much about myself and have experienced what it is to dig deeper than I ever thought was possible. I have been held in beautiful ways by caring strangers. I have also hung on a thread at times when all else was stripped away, knowing only the pure holding of my Author and Sustainer. Sometimes we don’t feel those everlasting arms fully until there is nothing else to lean on. But they are always there.
As we enter this transition, creeping into this darker season of Autumn (Fall) and watch the trees let go of their rich, golden leaves, I take a moment to ponder. As the colours turn, I feel a turning in my very being too. Maybe the tension is loosening a little, and that inner unrest softening gently like the hues of an October sunset. Maybe this Autumn, this season of shedding, beckons a shift in me to relax my hold and begin to trust my heart again.
How very wonderful it would be to enjoy ALL the colours of life again.
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Everythingistickityboo 
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