Or as my co-worker Hank said when I got to work this morning and showed off my stylin' new red shirt, "I survived cardiac rehab and all I got was this lousy T-shirt." [Let the Star Trek red shirt jokes commence ;)]
Actually, it's a pretty cool shirt, and rehab has been, for the most part, a really good experience for me. There were a couple of bumps in the road, but when I look back at where I was 12 weeks ago, more psychologically than physically even, it's been a tremendous benefit, and it's a tragedy--a health emergency I'd almost say--that a lot of women never have cardiac rehab mentioned to them.
Last thing I read said that just over half, 56 percent, of patients who need cardiac rehab actually get referred, and women get referred at a much lower rate than men.
That's been borne out by my experience--for most of my time in rehab I've been the only woman in my class. For part of the time there was an older woman, then she left and I was alone again. Then a couple of weeks ago another woman, maybe in her mid-50s, joined. But we're still far outnumbered by the men. Heart disease is the #1 killer of women in the US, but cardiac rehab is still very much a man's game.
When I started rehab, my total cholesterol was 225: HDL of 54 and LDL of 149, triglycerides at 109. Now my total cholesterol is 172: HDL 57, LDL 94, and triglycerides at 105. I've been on Zocor (well, the generic) since my heart attack, so I can't claim all the credit.
Blood pressure has stayed about the same, in the 110/70 range, though when they checked it right after I'd come off the beta blocker, it was 102/64.
When I first started, I was so scared and anxious that I stopped my initial treadmill stress test after only 5 minutes, so the upper end of my target heart rate range was 87. Plus also beta blocker. Now, with no beta blocker, my THRR is 126 for the upper end. :)
I did 8 biceps curls in 30 seconds at the start of rehab; now I can do 15.
But more than anything else, I know that I can go swim for a half hour and not collapse. I can run on the treadmill with no fear. I can go for a bike ride just a like a normal person. There are a lot of things I can do like a normal person now, and that's the point of getting up at five-freakin-thirty in the morning three days a week for twelve weeks.
Don't think because I won't be at rehab anymore that I'm going to turn into a slacker, though. I've signed up for the Triangle Heart Walk on Sept. 27th, and I'm looking over the super-sprint triathlon options.
Can I get a hallelujah? :)
Showing posts with label cardiac rehab. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cardiac rehab. Show all posts
Friday, July 31, 2009
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Heart update
I had several cardio-related appointments yesterday and today. Yesterday morning was a blood draw, then in the afternoon was my cardiology follow-up appointment. Let me just say again that it still seems so surreal, almost four months out, that I freakin' have a cardiologist.
Since I'd told the nurses at cardiac rehab that I was nervous about having my blood drawn, they sent me over to the Heart Center for the phlebotomist there, Joel, to do it. He's supposed to be very good, although when he took blood from me back in April it hurt a lot--though he said it was because my veins were still scarred from all the repeated blood draws from the hospitalizations.
So I wasn't too confident, but my veins have recovered, and Joel did fine, and there was minimal pain. This blood work is to check a couple of things: cholesterol levels, and liver enzymes. The liver enzyme check is because the Zocor can rarely cause liver problems.
After that, I went to Brig's for breakfast because I hadn't had anything to eat since around 8pm the night before, and I hadn't been there since right after I got out of the hospital... So hello omelet, and pancake (and leftovers for today). Then home to chill out for a bit before my cardio follow-up at 1pm.
The cardio visit was pretty routine: they did an EKG, as usual. They took my blood pressure, which was high for me, at 113/78 (I sometimes get "white coat syndrome"). OTOH, my resting heart rate was around 42, thanks to the beta blocker.
My doctor cleared me for pretty much everything: lifting weights, flying, sitting in the hot tub--the place where I swim has a hot tub, you see. My EF is well over the magic number of 55 percent, he said.
He asked how well I was sleeping. I said that the only anxiety I had, really, was about the chance of it happening again. He was pretty straight with me; he said that it was such a rare, 1 in 1000 thing that happened, that he could see where I would be worried. But given that I don't have any other contributing factors--I'm healthy, I don't have any connective tissue disorders--he said I'm more in danger of having a car accident on my way to and from work every day than of having another spontaneous dissection.
They don't know why it happened. They may never know why it happened. And mostly I'm OK with that; sometimes I want answers, but I'm growing more accepting of the fact that I'll probably never have any.
The best news is that he took me off the beta blocker, whee!! My heart rate is already pretty low (see above), as is my normal blood pressure. I was a little worried because when I first asked if he had a timetable for reducing my dose, he said that some people stay on it for life. But after he conferred with another cardiologist and they both looked at my EKG and my heart rate and such, they decided that I could come off it. I go back for another visit in four months.
This morning I had my end-of-rehab treadmill stress test. This one is a compare-and-contrast to the one I did when I first started rehab, to mark my progress. And I passed, if you will, with flying colors! I just about doubled the time that I was on the treadmill, from five and a half minutes to ten minutes, and I got my heart rate up to 130--which is almost a normal range for a woman of my age and weight. The rehab nurses were thrilled, and the doctor who was monitoring my stress test said I deserved a gold star.
My last day of rehab is July 31st. I'm pleased that things are going well.
Since I'd told the nurses at cardiac rehab that I was nervous about having my blood drawn, they sent me over to the Heart Center for the phlebotomist there, Joel, to do it. He's supposed to be very good, although when he took blood from me back in April it hurt a lot--though he said it was because my veins were still scarred from all the repeated blood draws from the hospitalizations.
So I wasn't too confident, but my veins have recovered, and Joel did fine, and there was minimal pain. This blood work is to check a couple of things: cholesterol levels, and liver enzymes. The liver enzyme check is because the Zocor can rarely cause liver problems.
After that, I went to Brig's for breakfast because I hadn't had anything to eat since around 8pm the night before, and I hadn't been there since right after I got out of the hospital... So hello omelet, and pancake (and leftovers for today). Then home to chill out for a bit before my cardio follow-up at 1pm.
The cardio visit was pretty routine: they did an EKG, as usual. They took my blood pressure, which was high for me, at 113/78 (I sometimes get "white coat syndrome"). OTOH, my resting heart rate was around 42, thanks to the beta blocker.
My doctor cleared me for pretty much everything: lifting weights, flying, sitting in the hot tub--the place where I swim has a hot tub, you see. My EF is well over the magic number of 55 percent, he said.
He asked how well I was sleeping. I said that the only anxiety I had, really, was about the chance of it happening again. He was pretty straight with me; he said that it was such a rare, 1 in 1000 thing that happened, that he could see where I would be worried. But given that I don't have any other contributing factors--I'm healthy, I don't have any connective tissue disorders--he said I'm more in danger of having a car accident on my way to and from work every day than of having another spontaneous dissection.
They don't know why it happened. They may never know why it happened. And mostly I'm OK with that; sometimes I want answers, but I'm growing more accepting of the fact that I'll probably never have any.
The best news is that he took me off the beta blocker, whee!! My heart rate is already pretty low (see above), as is my normal blood pressure. I was a little worried because when I first asked if he had a timetable for reducing my dose, he said that some people stay on it for life. But after he conferred with another cardiologist and they both looked at my EKG and my heart rate and such, they decided that I could come off it. I go back for another visit in four months.
This morning I had my end-of-rehab treadmill stress test. This one is a compare-and-contrast to the one I did when I first started rehab, to mark my progress. And I passed, if you will, with flying colors! I just about doubled the time that I was on the treadmill, from five and a half minutes to ten minutes, and I got my heart rate up to 130--which is almost a normal range for a woman of my age and weight. The rehab nurses were thrilled, and the doctor who was monitoring my stress test said I deserved a gold star.
My last day of rehab is July 31st. I'm pleased that things are going well.
Monday, July 20, 2009
Rehab and blood draws and follow-ups, oh my
I'm coming up on the end of my time in cardiac rehab. It will be good to switch from Meadowmont back to my old gym, Duke Health & Fitness. Meadowmont is a good facility, but I miss my water aerobics classes, and being able to lift weights--I'm not really a fan of the giant rubber band school of resistance strength training.
Tomorrow I have medical stuff all day. Blood draws in the morning for cholesterol and liver checks, and cardiologist follow-up appt. in the afternoon. So no food for me after 8pm tonight.
I hate hate hate having my blood drawn. It got to where near the end of my hospitalization, I would cry when I saw the phlebotomists coming in--because after nearly a week of three blood draws/day, they'd just about run out of places to stick me and had resorted to poking the backs of my hands. The only reason it wasn't worse was because for a couple of days, I had an arterial line in and they were able to take blood straight from that for awhile, until the line got kinked and they took it out (I was terribly sad to see it go).
I know I sound like a wimp--they stuck my femoral artery twice and threaded a catheter up to my heart, for cryin' out loud--but for that, they had me on a morphine/valium drip, so I didn't give a crap.
Now is a good time to practice my deep breathing and relaxation. Now is NOT a good time for the loud, boisterous child to be in the office, when I'm already anxious...
Must remember to write out list of questions tonight for the doctor. #1, how long will I have to be on the beta blocker.
Tomorrow I have medical stuff all day. Blood draws in the morning for cholesterol and liver checks, and cardiologist follow-up appt. in the afternoon. So no food for me after 8pm tonight.
I hate hate hate having my blood drawn. It got to where near the end of my hospitalization, I would cry when I saw the phlebotomists coming in--because after nearly a week of three blood draws/day, they'd just about run out of places to stick me and had resorted to poking the backs of my hands. The only reason it wasn't worse was because for a couple of days, I had an arterial line in and they were able to take blood straight from that for awhile, until the line got kinked and they took it out (I was terribly sad to see it go).
I know I sound like a wimp--they stuck my femoral artery twice and threaded a catheter up to my heart, for cryin' out loud--but for that, they had me on a morphine/valium drip, so I didn't give a crap.
Now is a good time to practice my deep breathing and relaxation. Now is NOT a good time for the loud, boisterous child to be in the office, when I'm already anxious...
Must remember to write out list of questions tonight for the doctor. #1, how long will I have to be on the beta blocker.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Progress: I can bike and swim again!
My cardiologist has given me permission to ride my bike and start swimming again, yay! I don't know if I can fully articulate how happy this makes me--please just take it as given. :)
Friday, June 5, 2009
Talking to Rehab
OK, so as I've mentioned here and here, there've been a couple of times where I've felt like a square peg being pounded into a round hole at cardiac rehab. Their usual patient is older, male, and has had a bypass. I'm young(ish), female, and had angioplasty and stents. No prior risk factors. I know how to eat right, how to exercise, all that jazz, and I'm pre-menopausal.
After cardiac survivors' support group on Wednesday, I spoke with the head of the rehab program. Longtime friends and readers know how much I loathe direct confrontation, but this is my health on the line here. So I told the lady that there had been a situation earlier in the week where I felt like I hadn't been heard, like I wasn't being listened to, that it seemed like the rehab group leaders were treating me like "Generic Cardiac Patient X," instead of seeing me for what I am: a woman under 50 years old who had a heart attack caused by a freak occurrence (arterial dissection), not coronary artery disease, or high blood pressure.
She actually seemed to hear what I had to say, and genuinely seemed appreciative of the feedback. She said, "What can we do?" I told her that I needed some reassurance that the nurses were actually seeing ME when they looked at me, and that they recognize that I'm not a 70-year-old male with hypertension and a triple bypass. I needed to know that they realize that I'm a woman who still has menstrual cycles, and that they won't refer me to the nutritionist the next time I gain 3 pounds of water weight in the days right before my period. She seemed to understand, and she asked if there were any staff members in particular that I felt more comfortable with--I named two.
It felt good to speak my mind in a constructive way. It's my hope that by speaking up, I'm making things easier for other young women who may come through the program.
After cardiac survivors' support group on Wednesday, I spoke with the head of the rehab program. Longtime friends and readers know how much I loathe direct confrontation, but this is my health on the line here. So I told the lady that there had been a situation earlier in the week where I felt like I hadn't been heard, like I wasn't being listened to, that it seemed like the rehab group leaders were treating me like "Generic Cardiac Patient X," instead of seeing me for what I am: a woman under 50 years old who had a heart attack caused by a freak occurrence (arterial dissection), not coronary artery disease, or high blood pressure.
She actually seemed to hear what I had to say, and genuinely seemed appreciative of the feedback. She said, "What can we do?" I told her that I needed some reassurance that the nurses were actually seeing ME when they looked at me, and that they recognize that I'm not a 70-year-old male with hypertension and a triple bypass. I needed to know that they realize that I'm a woman who still has menstrual cycles, and that they won't refer me to the nutritionist the next time I gain 3 pounds of water weight in the days right before my period. She seemed to understand, and she asked if there were any staff members in particular that I felt more comfortable with--I named two.
It felt good to speak my mind in a constructive way. It's my hope that by speaking up, I'm making things easier for other young women who may come through the program.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Monday, June 1, 2009
IT'S JUST MY PERIOD! IT'S JUST MY PERIOD! IT'S JUST MY PERIOD!
OK, so last week there was this, where the cardiac rehab nurses were threatening to refer me to the dietician for my period-related weight gain. That every woman gets. That had subsequently disappeared by the time they expressed their "concern."
Today, near the end of exercise class, while we were moving from the gym back to the room where we do our warm-up/cool-down, the dietician showed up--and made a beeline for me. Oh hell no.
Sigh. She reiterated the "concern about your recent weight gain." I said, "OH MY GOD," and did the facepalm thing, and said through my hands in an obviously irritated voice, "Do you people never deal with any menstruating women here?! IT'S JUST MY PERIOD! IT'S JUST MY PERIOD! IT'S JUST MY PERIOD!"
The instructor at the front of the class glanced in our direction and tried to hide a smile.
The dietician tried to "shush" me. I told her that the weight was already gone, even (it is). She looked very nonplussed, said they did have some women of child-bearing age in the program, one of whom gained and lost six pounds every month. She mumbled something about being caught off-guard and left. It wasn't really fair of me to hit her with both barrels, but seriously now.
We have at least three things going on here.
1. The nurses were completely ignoring me the other week when I said the weight gain was just related to my monthly menstrual cycle. Being ignored makes me cranky. Yes, I know I've had a heart attack; that doesn't mean I don't know anything about my body.
2. If they weren't willing to listen to the patient, me, they could have at least bothered to check the facts on the ground before calling in the nutritionist. The fact that the weight gain has been reversed is documented there on the chart that we fill out every exercise session.
3. They lied when they said they were going to "monitor the situation" before calling in the dietician. They blindsided me by calling her in when they led me to believe they were going to at least look at my stats again first.
I feel disrespected and unheard and like I can't trust them now, and that's not good.
Today, near the end of exercise class, while we were moving from the gym back to the room where we do our warm-up/cool-down, the dietician showed up--and made a beeline for me. Oh hell no.
Sigh. She reiterated the "concern about your recent weight gain." I said, "OH MY GOD," and did the facepalm thing, and said through my hands in an obviously irritated voice, "Do you people never deal with any menstruating women here?! IT'S JUST MY PERIOD! IT'S JUST MY PERIOD! IT'S JUST MY PERIOD!"
The instructor at the front of the class glanced in our direction and tried to hide a smile.
The dietician tried to "shush" me. I told her that the weight was already gone, even (it is). She looked very nonplussed, said they did have some women of child-bearing age in the program, one of whom gained and lost six pounds every month. She mumbled something about being caught off-guard and left. It wasn't really fair of me to hit her with both barrels, but seriously now.
We have at least three things going on here.
1. The nurses were completely ignoring me the other week when I said the weight gain was just related to my monthly menstrual cycle. Being ignored makes me cranky. Yes, I know I've had a heart attack; that doesn't mean I don't know anything about my body.
2. If they weren't willing to listen to the patient, me, they could have at least bothered to check the facts on the ground before calling in the nutritionist. The fact that the weight gain has been reversed is documented there on the chart that we fill out every exercise session.
3. They lied when they said they were going to "monitor the situation" before calling in the dietician. They blindsided me by calling her in when they led me to believe they were going to at least look at my stats again first.
I feel disrespected and unheard and like I can't trust them now, and that's not good.
Friday, May 29, 2009
I had a meltdown today
I had a meltdown in cardiac rehab this morning. I feel like a big ol' crybaby. And part of me wants to just BE that two-year-old, and have a typical terrible two-year-old's temper tantrum. I want my old life back!
What happened was that I started having some pain in my left arm. When I had my heart attack at the end of March, I also had left arm pain, so as I'm sure you can all imagine, I was freaking out a little.
The nurses did a paddle check--minds out of the gutters, you pervs; it's not as fun as it sounds. ;) They hooked me up to the defibrillator and printed out a little EKG strip and said everything looked normal, but they could tell I was stressed so they had me sit down and drink some water.
At which point I started crying, because I'm tired of being the person who freaks out about a tiny bit of arm pain. I'm tired of worrying about every small twinge and ache. I DON'T WANNA ANYMORE. I want my old life back.
They also checked my blood pressure, which was a little elevated (for me--118/80), so they gave me a nitro pill under my tongue and called the in-house cardiologist over. She reassured me that the arm pain by itself, with no other symptoms like shortness of breath, was highly unlikely to be indicative of a problem. And also that the location of the pain meant that it most likely wasn't my heart.
And lastly, since the nitro wasn't helping, they said that was the most indicative of all that I wasn't having any heart trouble.
It'll be two months tomorrow. The heart attack and SCAD are a big black line that divides my life into "before" and "after," and I'm tired of living in the "after." I want to go back to the "before."
Obviously I know this isn't possible, and I think that's why I was crying this morning. It's all the anger and grief finally coming out. I haven't really had a complete and total meltdown about what happened to me yet, and I think I'm finally starting to. :/
It didn't particularly help that there's a lot of stress at work today--several important things that we sent to a major conference that's going on right now in New York City have been lost, one of our authors didn't get his plane ticket reserved, and another one's reservation got messed up.
None of which were my screw-ups (thank GAWD), but I was running around trying to fix at least some of them this afternoon, and I'm feeling very fragile right now. In fact, I need to go take a minute and blow my nose.
I'm seeing my therapist again next week. I really like her. I'm on an antidepressant already, one that I've been on for years. Maybe I need a little more help for the next little while. Anyway, thank you all for being here. As I've said before, I know my blog has somewhat turned into the "all heart all the time" blog of late.
What happened was that I started having some pain in my left arm. When I had my heart attack at the end of March, I also had left arm pain, so as I'm sure you can all imagine, I was freaking out a little.
The nurses did a paddle check--minds out of the gutters, you pervs; it's not as fun as it sounds. ;) They hooked me up to the defibrillator and printed out a little EKG strip and said everything looked normal, but they could tell I was stressed so they had me sit down and drink some water.
At which point I started crying, because I'm tired of being the person who freaks out about a tiny bit of arm pain. I'm tired of worrying about every small twinge and ache. I DON'T WANNA ANYMORE. I want my old life back.
They also checked my blood pressure, which was a little elevated (for me--118/80), so they gave me a nitro pill under my tongue and called the in-house cardiologist over. She reassured me that the arm pain by itself, with no other symptoms like shortness of breath, was highly unlikely to be indicative of a problem. And also that the location of the pain meant that it most likely wasn't my heart.
And lastly, since the nitro wasn't helping, they said that was the most indicative of all that I wasn't having any heart trouble.
It'll be two months tomorrow. The heart attack and SCAD are a big black line that divides my life into "before" and "after," and I'm tired of living in the "after." I want to go back to the "before."
Obviously I know this isn't possible, and I think that's why I was crying this morning. It's all the anger and grief finally coming out. I haven't really had a complete and total meltdown about what happened to me yet, and I think I'm finally starting to. :/
It didn't particularly help that there's a lot of stress at work today--several important things that we sent to a major conference that's going on right now in New York City have been lost, one of our authors didn't get his plane ticket reserved, and another one's reservation got messed up.
None of which were my screw-ups (thank GAWD), but I was running around trying to fix at least some of them this afternoon, and I'm feeling very fragile right now. In fact, I need to go take a minute and blow my nose.
I'm seeing my therapist again next week. I really like her. I'm on an antidepressant already, one that I've been on for years. Maybe I need a little more help for the next little while. Anyway, thank you all for being here. As I've said before, I know my blog has somewhat turned into the "all heart all the time" blog of late.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Bless their hearts, as we say down here
At rehab this morning as I was doing my bit on the treadmill, one of the nurses came up to me and was all concerned. Among the stats we record every session is our weight, and last week mine bumped up--like three pounds. Ladies, you know what I'm talking about: it was right before my period landed, so it was all water weight. Bleah.
Anyway, the nurse was "concerned." She said, "You've been gaining weight. Are you doing anything differently? Sometimes once people start exercising, their appetites increase, and they start eating a lot more." I was like no, really, it's just my period. She said, "Is it fluid?" I said yes it's fluid!! Of course, the word "fluid" when you're a heart patient suddenly takes on a whole new meaning. She asked if I was on Lasix and I said no. Honestly, it's just my period. Seriously.
She was like, well, we'll monitor it this week and maybe refer you to the nutritionist next week if we need to. *eyeroll* FFS, lady. IT'S JUST MY PERIOD. HONESTLY.
And voila, when I stepped on the scale today, the three pounds had magically vanished.
I bet the same thing's gonna happen next month, too.
And the month after that as well.
It's almost as if it were on a ... cycle. *headdesk*
I know they're just doing their jobs, and they have to keep a close watch on these things, and also that some of the medications that they put people on can cause weight gain, and that fluid retention can be a sign of a problem. But really. It's just my period.
When I told Paul about it, he reminded me that they probably don't see very many pre-menopausal women there. Which is true. But most of the nurses themselves appear to be fairly young, so you'd think that their personal experience might give them a clue.
Ah well. Just another amusing anecdote in the annals of my recovery...
Anyway, the nurse was "concerned." She said, "You've been gaining weight. Are you doing anything differently? Sometimes once people start exercising, their appetites increase, and they start eating a lot more." I was like no, really, it's just my period. She said, "Is it fluid?" I said yes it's fluid!! Of course, the word "fluid" when you're a heart patient suddenly takes on a whole new meaning. She asked if I was on Lasix and I said no. Honestly, it's just my period. Seriously.
She was like, well, we'll monitor it this week and maybe refer you to the nutritionist next week if we need to. *eyeroll* FFS, lady. IT'S JUST MY PERIOD. HONESTLY.
And voila, when I stepped on the scale today, the three pounds had magically vanished.
I bet the same thing's gonna happen next month, too.
And the month after that as well.
It's almost as if it were on a ... cycle. *headdesk*
I know they're just doing their jobs, and they have to keep a close watch on these things, and also that some of the medications that they put people on can cause weight gain, and that fluid retention can be a sign of a problem. But really. It's just my period.
When I told Paul about it, he reminded me that they probably don't see very many pre-menopausal women there. Which is true. But most of the nurses themselves appear to be fairly young, so you'd think that their personal experience might give them a clue.
Ah well. Just another amusing anecdote in the annals of my recovery...
Monday, April 27, 2009
The heartbeat of an elite athlete--without the matching body
So, I went in for my cardiac treadmill stress test this morning. As usual with these things, it took more time to set up and take down all the blinky, beepy, sticky, ouchie monitoring stuff than the actual test itself.
Now that I'm on all sorts of medications, my resting heart rate tends to be incredibly low. Elite-athlete low. As in, 49 bpm. And my blood pressure, not high to begin with, is likewise amazingly low, like 90/58. After getting really winded on the treadmill, my heart rate was all the way up to 94, and my blood pressure had hit 108/70.
Today was also the first of three one-hour educational classes that I need to take before my cardiac rehab exercise program begins in earnest next month. Today's was about making changes, and not to my surprise at all, the first Powerpoint slide was Prochaska's Stages of Change (though it didn't mention Prochaska by name). I first learned about these when I was working at MicroMass in Cary, at the brief tech writing job in late 1999-early 2000.
Over the weekend, my medical alert ID bracelet came. I'm wearing it now, but I'm not used to it yet. When I opened the package, my first thought was "it's a little small." Other thoughts: "It's kind of like a pet's rabies tag." "Didn't think I'd be one of those people with one of these." I figure I don't need to have it on all the time. Don't need it when Paul's around, for example. Do need it if I'm by myself, or at work, or out with friends and Paul's not there.
When I was a teenager, I used to have one of those bracelets with my name engraved on a plate. This is like that, only... not.
Also found an online store selling lots of low- and no-sodium products, the Heart Healthy Market. Additionally, I'm trying out a low-sodium crock-pot sloppy joe recipe--I'm using ground turkey breast to make it even more healthy; it's simmering away even as I type and will be ready for supper tonight.
ETA: Two thumbs up on the low-sodium sloppy joe recipe! Tastes great, and has around 105 mg of sodium/serving, compared to ... holy shit, 800 mg in my previous favorite pre-made sloppy joe mix, Hunt's Bold Manwich Sloppy Joe sauce. 800 mg! WTF???
Now that I'm on all sorts of medications, my resting heart rate tends to be incredibly low. Elite-athlete low. As in, 49 bpm. And my blood pressure, not high to begin with, is likewise amazingly low, like 90/58. After getting really winded on the treadmill, my heart rate was all the way up to 94, and my blood pressure had hit 108/70.
Today was also the first of three one-hour educational classes that I need to take before my cardiac rehab exercise program begins in earnest next month. Today's was about making changes, and not to my surprise at all, the first Powerpoint slide was Prochaska's Stages of Change (though it didn't mention Prochaska by name). I first learned about these when I was working at MicroMass in Cary, at the brief tech writing job in late 1999-early 2000.
Over the weekend, my medical alert ID bracelet came. I'm wearing it now, but I'm not used to it yet. When I opened the package, my first thought was "it's a little small." Other thoughts: "It's kind of like a pet's rabies tag." "Didn't think I'd be one of those people with one of these." I figure I don't need to have it on all the time. Don't need it when Paul's around, for example. Do need it if I'm by myself, or at work, or out with friends and Paul's not there.
When I was a teenager, I used to have one of those bracelets with my name engraved on a plate. This is like that, only... not.
Also found an online store selling lots of low- and no-sodium products, the Heart Healthy Market. Additionally, I'm trying out a low-sodium crock-pot sloppy joe recipe--I'm using ground turkey breast to make it even more healthy; it's simmering away even as I type and will be ready for supper tonight.
ETA: Two thumbs up on the low-sodium sloppy joe recipe! Tastes great, and has around 105 mg of sodium/serving, compared to ... holy shit, 800 mg in my previous favorite pre-made sloppy joe mix, Hunt's Bold Manwich Sloppy Joe sauce. 800 mg! WTF???
Friday, April 17, 2009
The "hospital food" diet plan
Whether it was from almost a week of icky hospital food or what, I'm down another few pounds; so far since I started in August 2008 I've removed 21 pounds total. I still have a lot of work to do, but this is a big milestone for me, and I'm pleased to have gotten here.
Also this morning was my orientation session for cardiac rehab at Meadowmont. It's a very nice facility, comparable to the gym I've been going to since August, Duke Health & Fitness. The cardiac rehab program is 36 sessions, roughly 3 months. There's a lot of careful monitoring involved, a cardiologist always on site, etc. Next week is my stress test and educational classes, and I start the exercise program in earnest on May 11th.
Also this morning was my orientation session for cardiac rehab at Meadowmont. It's a very nice facility, comparable to the gym I've been going to since August, Duke Health & Fitness. The cardiac rehab program is 36 sessions, roughly 3 months. There's a lot of careful monitoring involved, a cardiologist always on site, etc. Next week is my stress test and educational classes, and I start the exercise program in earnest on May 11th.
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