So, I haven't posted in a few weeks. I was having a really good couple of days. Obama won the election. My birthday was warm and sunny and friends made me cakes and took me out to lunch. Then it was my dad's birthday and I was sad because I missed him, but I was okay. Things felt more hopeful than they had in a while.
Then, in the middle of the night, my husband passed out. He woke up sweating and said, "I feel lightheaded," and he passed out. He was unresponsive for about a minute. This had happened in the past, when he jumped up suddenly out of bed to tend to a crying baby and his blood pressure dropped. But this time he just woke up and passed out.
I called 911. The paramedics took him to the hospital, amazingly without waking the kids. I thought he'd be home in a day or two, but it was four days, a stress test, several EKGs and a heart catheterization before I got to bring him home. No evidence of a heart attack, heart enlargement, arterial disease. Vasovagal syncope, the doctor said, and scheduled him for a tilt-table test.
The object of the test is to see if the patient can be made to black out again. He did. He also flatlined for 25 seconds. The doctor said: pacemaker. There's a kind designed just for this sort of thing. Not too many restrictions with the pacemaker, the doctor said. But no chest massages. No problem, I said, I don't do chest massages. Then I remembered.
There's a spot right over my husband's heart where I like to lay my head when I hug him. I tilt my head to the right and burrow right there, on his chest, under his chin.
No problem, I said again. I can learn to go to my left. And I am.

