Up the Hill
Until recently, Dane’s life and mine were like a series of small hills. Some days were more challenging because of work responsibilities or necessary chores. Others, like our date days, were breezy and fun.
In addition to hiking with me and the pups, and bike riding on our date days, Dane spent this past summer working his 10-hour-a-day, 4-day-a-week job that requires miles of walking through thickets. He also spent time cutting wood to prepare for this winter.
Our last big hike at the Kickapoo Valley Reserve was on an early October day that heated up to an unseasonable 90 degrees. We were with the dogs on Hanson Rock Trail, the trail Dane and I adopted years ago. It’s steep, and we’d hiked about 7 miles by the time we got back to the car.
Lately, we think about that hike, our bike rides, and especially Dane at home alone chopping all that wood.
We recently learned, in the midst of Dane’s health challenges, that each time your heart constricts, a percentage of blood leaves it; the amount, measured in an echocardiogram, is called your ejection fraction (EF). An EF of 50 percent or higher is considered good. If your EF is 35 to 39 percent, your heart’s pumping ability is moderately below normal. Reduced EF can indicate heart failure.
Currently, Dane’s EF is 25 percent, which makes everyday chores such as getting dressed, washing dishes, or feeding the critters challenging. He often has to stand still, catching his breath. He needs to wear a Zoll LifeVest, and he isn’t allowed to drive.
Walking up the hill is something we’ve done together here for years. We put the dogs on their leashes and take them up the hill from my house. It’s what we were doing on Friday, October 13, when Dane started having chest pain.
Miraculously, it’s also what we did today, not even two months after Dane’s series of heart attacks and diagnosis of heart failure. It wasn’t easy, and we stopped frequently so Dane could catch his breath. The morning was chilly, and the road was dotted with snow from the day before. Dane usually holds Téte-the-tank’s leash, and she seemed a bit put out that he was holding tiny Finnegan's instead. At the top of the hill, we all soaked in the sunshine and the warm feeling of accomplishment, smiling like cats after a bowl of warm milk.
That walk up the hill was a milestone for Dane. It hasn’t been easy for him to understand his new limitations. It’s not easy for me to understand. But it’s our new reality. It’s Dane’s new chance at life. And today, snapping a picture of Dane and the pups at the top of the hill was something to celebrate.
You can’t see inside your heart as easily as you can lift the hood of your car and look at the engine. Heart disease is the leading cause of death in the United States, and it’s often a total surprise. You can be fit—exercise daily, maintain a healthy weight, and be strong enough to split wood for hours at a time—and not suspect your heart is failing or your major arteries are blocked, until you can’t catch your breath or you suffer a heart attack.
What we can do are the sensible things: keep moving, get outside and bike and hike, eat wholesome foods, keep our weight down. We can monitor our blood pressure—and if it’s high, take steps to control it—not smoke, keep alcohol consumption low, get a good night’s sleep, and work at keeping our stress to a minimum.
And we can pay attention to warning signs: excessive fatigue, dizziness, shortness of breath, coughing or wheezing; fast or uneven heartbeat; swelling in ankles, feet, and lower legs; poor blood supply to lower extremities; unusual indigestion or heavy sweating; pain in the jaw, chest, neck, back, or arms; or even nausea and vomiting.
Heart disease and heart failure aren’t something you can just get over, nor are they always a death sentence. They are something you can get help and treatment for, and then you can commit to making changes.
Above all, watching Dane throughout this process has taught me how to keep moving! We can keep trying to be better, do better. And when we make it up the hill, we can take time to rejoice.
