In the Heart of the Moment

Dear Diary,
Today I saw my heart.
I don't mean in a poetic way, within some act of kindness or secret evil tendency.

I mean in a literal, physical kind of way.

I took a stress test, and, along with it, an ultrasound of my pumper.

It didn't dawn on me that I would be able to see the pictures while I lay in my breezy, gray hospital gown on the white papered table.

But when the light did dawn, I thought,
Cool! Very-very cool! I will get to see my own heart!

As I made out the black and white video images on the screen, my throat tightened and my tear ducts filled. My thoughts changed from Cool! to
Oh my word!  I am seeing my own heart!

When I revealed my emotional state to the ultrasound tech, she responded by giving me a narrative of the things she was seeing on the screen, pointing out such foreign things as my "mitral valve" (what I saw: a floppy flap opening and closing) and my "beautiful left atrium" (what I saw: a chamber wall hiccuping in and out.)

I was surprised at my rush of emotion to those pictures on the screen. 

I have seen precious life on a monitor before, in the ultrasounds of my preborn babies.  The tiny hearts beating so quickly, the body parts perfectly formed as God planned.  Now that elicits emotion for good reason!

In the heat heart of the moment, I let my romantic side emerge as I watched the heart do what God designed it to do.  It is a hard working muscle, but it's also a vessel --
containing my spirit,
my life,
my love,
ME!

Many people will never get to see what I saw.
The cool thing about the heart is that you don't have to see it to know what it contains.
The way you live your life will reveal that.

As I stared at the wonders on the screen, the Sunday School student in me was hoping to spy a miniature Jesus smiling and waving at the "camera" from one of my heart chambers. 

'Cuz I know I have Jesus down in there too!
LJ

It's a *Small* Problem

Dear Diary,
I have a problem I must face sooner or later, and really, it is "later" now.

It crept up on me a few years ago, slowly, subtly.

It gave me urges to squint, blink, or force my eyes open as wide as they could go. 
But the problem persisted.

I acquired hyperopia. 
I now belong to a group of people called the middle-aged hyperopes. 
Sounds like great club name for aging rope-jumpers.

No.  It's farsightedness.
What a pain.

Over-the-counter readers have helped for a few years.  But the visual distance at which I have to rely upon them is becoming a greater one.  What was once a use for tired eyes during bedtime reading has now become a necessity for reading price tags, recipes, and menus.  Yes, there is a big difference between a 3 and an 8, both in price and in measurement!

My place on the age-eyesight continuum is now to the point that I can't read the writing on the GPS mounted on the front windshield.  Kind of important when driving in uncharted territory, so to speak.

Perhaps the latest little mishaps seal my bifocal lens fate.  Let me mention two of them.

My body hates the dry air, which is prevalent in winter here in the Midwest.  I use a lot of lotions and potions to counteract the effect dry air has on me.  I have spent many-a-day squirting a store-bought saline solution up my uncomfortably dry nasal passages.  I also use another solution to give relief to my dry eyes, which I use often throughout the day.  I stick them in my purse to use when I'm away from home.  The problem came one day when, sans glasses, I grabbed from my purse the nasal spray, and proceeded to relieve my eyes with it. Yeah.  I can tell you the saline used for the relief of one body part does not transfer to relief in other body parts.  And can be slightly irritating.

Continuing with my lotions and potions theme, on a weekend away from home, I decided to make use of those little bottles of shampoo, conditioner and lotion the hotel so generously provides. After my shower, I needed to squeeze out some lotion for my luxuriously soft supple skin, ahem.  OK, I actually needed it for my wrinkly, crinkly neck. So I dabbed it on, and boy, did it start a subtle stinging sensation. 

My beauty tip for the day:  Conditioner may not be used as a substitute for lotion.  Rinsing with cool water is recommended.

But I do count my blessings.  I was glad I chose not to use the conditioner (i.e.lotion) in the shower earlier. Hey, those bottles are tiny and the letters are even tinier!

So, I shall continue to use my readers, which have become a semi-permanent hair accessory.  Reaching for the top of my head to pull down the glasses nestled there has become second nature to me.  Who needs bifocals, when my readers have a lovely home atop my head? 

One day I will embrace my identity as a MAH (middle-aged hyperope). 

Just not today.

LJ