Summer in the Gulf


The sun is rising over the desert sands and with it comes the dust and the mist. The air is thick and the humidity drips off the windows as if a spring rain has just washed through the area, only it hasn't because it rarely rains here. In fact it would be safe to say that it almost never rains. The summer is hot. And even though we live in the middle of the desert it is also humid - there are times when the humidity reaches upwards of 80%. Oh yes, that does wonders for my hair. Sweat comes pouring down your face, your back, and you start to wonder why you even bothered putting make up on in the first place. But you did because almost every single one of the local women does and they look gorgeous, and you feel like a bit of a lost cause if you do not try to make some kind of effort to look halfway decent.

But there is beauty in the landscape even though it is harsh. Even though it is cutting and jarring and unforgivable. Even though it wears you out. Even though it wears you down. Even though you miss the rain and the green. There is beauty to be found in the middle of the summer in the Gulf.

Five Years Old



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The string, the nylon thread that hold a small piece of my heart together is almost five years old. Anniversaries come and go in people's lives, but when I think back to where I was and what I was doing five years ago, it amazes me how things have changed. 12 December 2006 I lay in a hospital bed, tubes everywhere, pain in my chest that is truly undescrible, and fluid draining slowly from my lungs. And that little piece of string that holds it all together. Today we are living Abu Dhabi, UAE, married, and smiling in the sunshine.

As the UAE celebrates is 40th anniversary, I am going to celebrate my 5th. My 5th anniversary of being healthy and well. My 5th anniversary of understanding the importance of time, family, and friends. You should celebrate too, and I am sure you have something worth celebrating.

Breaking Hearts

It has been sometime since I put fingers to keys and wrote on my "Queen of Hearts" blog. There is really not any good reason. Perhaps it is because lately I have felt "fixed". The 5th anniversary of my stroke crept up on me, and it was not until someone else mentioned it on Twitter that I remembered the day. A little voice in the back of my head kept telling me there was something of critical importance on 21 July, but I kept silencing that voice.

We have also moved, a big move: Boston to Abu Dhabi.  I had the comfort and knowledge that my medical care was sound and secure when we were in Boston. I lived in the middle of some of the world's best hospitals. And now, I am at a total loss when it comes to doctors. What hospital do I go to? What if something else happens to my heart? Will they even understand what kind of heart surgery I had following my stroke? I also pushed those fears to the back of my mind and told myself that nothing would go wrong - we would just make the move and deal with the challenges as they came our way.

I am now in a place where no one knows my story. Unfortunately, my story is not unique, and there are stories out there all over the world that are all to similar to my own. I recently heard of a heart breaking one... Jennifer Perillo's husband died of a sudden heart attack several days ago. Like my stroke, it was a sudden event, no warning. No one should have to experience that kind of loss.

I have never met Jennie, I have never met her family, but she and I have exchanged brief messages over Twitter. Her news shocked and shook me. It stunned me. And haunts me. And perhaps that is why I am typing again on the Queen of Hearts, because of the hearts that break every day and there is so little that can be done.

My husband and I learned something so valuable after that day in July and again after my open heart surgery several months later... Life happens and sometimes, when it does grief comes along. It is unpleasant, it is unfair, and often there is little if any any justification for what comes our way.

Remember to hold your loved ones tight. Tell them how you feel. Appreciate the here and now, and try to let the worries of tomorrow become a little less, as here and now is all we really have. And love as deeply as you can. 

Bw desert us

Neither Far nor Near

My niece thinks that we are moving to Target - yes the store. Thanks to my mother and the timing of a conversation, my niece things that Target is Abu Dhabi. It will be a sad state when she starts looking for us in the luggage aisle, and we are no where to be found.

The other day someone told me that Abu Dhabi used to be Djibouti before they struck it rich with oil. Really? I remember Djibouti being on the East Coast of Africa, and while there have been several earthquakes as of late, and many countries in Africa have changed their names since I learned them in the 6th grade, I do not think that Djibouti moved from East Africa to the Gulf.

People keep saying we are moving to Dubai. NO, we are not moving to Dubai. Dubai is another Emirate (there are seven in total). Dubai is NOT Abu Dhabi, much like Boston is NOT New York City. Please, get it right.

And then I am confronted with "Oh, Abu Dhabi! I just saw the second 'Sex and the City!'"Oh... great. You mean the one that was actually filmed in Marrakesh? The one that was so inappropriate I felt a bit sick? Yeah, that's great. No, it's really not like that, oh, except for the white cars. There are a lot of white cars.

Yes, we are moving to Abu Dhabi, the capitol of the United Arab Emirates. East of Saudi Arabia, South of Iran, and West of Dubai. Yes, there are camels and date trees. Yes, women can drive. Yes, I can dress is "Western" attire.

And more than anything, yes, we are so looking forward to this amazing adventure of a lifetime.

Running up the Hill

It was spring in DC - full on SPRING. It has yet to travel up the coast to Boston. I spent a few days in DC with the American Heart Association as part of Lobby Day - time to speak to members of Congress about the importance of funding research in the areas of heart disease and stroke research. For example, did you know that for all of the National Institutes of Health's budget only 4% goes towards heart research, and 1 % towards stroke, yet heart disease and stroke are the Nation's number 1 and 3 killer... interesting little fact.

So there we were - more than 300 people from 46 states across the country to discuss heart health and stroke awareness. It was an impressive sight to be sure: the color red could be seen from afar. I wonder whether they listened. The Hill is full of lobbiests. Every day, every hour, every minute people traipse up to Capitol Hill and pitch their stories. At times it seems that it takes more energy than it is worth. It is a steep climb up that hill - both literally and then it is figurative for those of us dealing with heart disease and stroke.

And then, in an instant it changes. The stories come out:

-A young girl born with a heart defect who subsequently suffered a stroke

-A woman who has suffered several strokes due to a rare brain disorder

-A woman who has had three open - heart surgeries for valve replacement, and knows that the valve will not outlive her, so she will need another (she is only in her 40s)

These are not stories of older white men collapsing on a golf course. These are the people who deal with heart disease and stroke every single day. I hope that our trip made the incline on the hill a little less steep for those of us who have to climb it everyday...

Stepping forwards & Backwards

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So, I thought that I was going to be able to start "walking" the other day. NOPE. Michael, my PT (who is amazing), pulled out a calendar and pointed out that in fact 6 wks was the FOLLOWING day, and there was absolutely no way that weight bearing would commence a day early. I literally collapsed on the PT table (ok, part of the dramatic move was for effect, part was from pure exhaustion of holding myself up all day, but part was from utter desperation and the need to get off the crutches).  He explained that I would need to wait 5 more days.

Now, that being said, I was allowed to get on the bike and start using some resistance.  OK - I will take these little victories as they come, I thought to myself.  So I got to go on the bike. I started riding the bike and turned to Michael and remarked out fast I was going (it really felt fast) and then the bike's power shut off b/c I guess I was not going fast enough. 

I managed to hit about 40 rpm. Let me tell you - I felt freaking AMAZING (I might start training for the Tour de France). 

Minutes 1-3

"Come on Michael. I mean if am feeling really good, I can do this for like  20 min, right?"


Minutes 4-5

"Well can I do 10 minutes a few times a day... Oh wait, the machine shut off"

(LILY, try to keep pedaling at at least 40 rpm!)

Minutes 6-8

"Um, my heart rate is not really doing anything here..."

(YEAH, OK Lily, that is not really the point)

Minutes 9-10

"I think that 10 minutes is enough. I should ice after, right?"

Oh the joy of PT... I can't wait to see what happens tomorrow.


Just Being

I have been told to be still - been told to just be.  Much easier said than done.

I am tired of sitting around... it actually is painful to sit around all day.  Seriously, it hurts to sit.  My physical therapist told me that I need to rest, to take things easy at this point.  It is incredibly challenging to do this, especially when most of me feels perfectly fine.  Yet I find myself sitting in bed, or sitting on the couch, or sitting in our oversized chair day in and day out.  The pain is not just from sitting, but from holding the crutches.  It is awesome - really and truly... (no, not so much...) Even when I want to move, and I go to the gym to move my upper body, I am still sitting so little relief is found.

And then there are the snow storms.  I was thinking about going shopping to pick up some groceries before the next storm, but then realized I could not carry them home to bring them up to my apartment, so that was out.  So instead I went on line to order groceries.

But I now find myself inside unable to go out due to the snow, and I sit at the window like a cat and watch, and listen to the wind blowing at 30+ miles an hour.  It is not easy to be still, not easy to just be.  No, even after a month, it is not getting any easier.  Seriously, how do people sit around all day and do nothing?  I mean it is exhausting!  I am simply exhausted from doing nothing.  I just do not understand.


Staying Steady - part two

No one really tells you what you can do, but you are told what you cannot do.

You cannot put weight on your right leg for about 8 weeks.

You cannot run.  Ever. Again.

You cannot start any kind of weight bearing physical therapy until week six.

You cannot keep your brace unlocked while you sleep.

You cannot take your brace off unless you are doing physical therapy.

What about what I can do?  Well - do not worry about that now.  That is what I was told.

Well, that is not good enough for me.  I worry - I always worry about things, and when it comes to my health and well-being, I am going to worry.

I worry about making sure that I stretch my hip flexors and IT band.  I worry that I won't get enough exercise, and that all of my due diligence what I have worked on for years will completely dissipate.  I worry that I am going to completely go out of my mind sitting around all day long.  

There are small victories that happen each and every day, and that is what I have learned to hold on to - along with those victories are set backs as well.  An accidental slip meant weight shifted to my right leg.  Almost falling down a flight of stairs meant I placed weight on my right foot to balance.  Slowly, slowly, and things will hopefully fall (no pun intended) into place...


Staying Steady - part one

Rain, snow, ice, sleet, puddles, steps, sidewalks, cobblestones.  These are all things that have put an undeniable fear in me.  Welcome to life on crutches.  And it gets better - I am on crutches and not able to put any weight on my right leg for fear of ruining the intricate surgery my doctor recently performed to regrow the cartilage in my knee.

This is not my first adventure on these stilt-like walking apparatuses.  I have been on them several times before for this same knee, but my previous adventures where no where near as daring as this one.  Non-weight bearing for eight weeks is a challenge, and even more so for someone who tends to be very physically active.  I am used to waking up around 4:45am and hitting the gym to teach bootcamp classes and workout with my trainer.  That will not be happening for a while...That being said, I do not see my situation as an excuse to sit on my ass, feel sorry for myself, and let things go.

I have learned that simply getting around is a workout in itself.  Walking (hopping) around brings up my heart rate to almost the same level as power walking on an incline, and holding up my body on crutches throughout the day is a serious upper body exercise.  Hands, forearms, shoulders, and triceps cry out to me at the end of everyday in ways that have never happened before.  They all contract to steady my body as I move forward, sideways, and backwards in a delicate and slow balancing act just so that my right leg will not make any contact with the floor at any point in time.  These muscles contract even more in anticipation of stairs or ice outside, and exhaustion sets in once the danger passes.

Physical therapy, physical activity, and physical exhaustion are regular parts of my daily routine, however perhaps the most important in understanding that part of my leg's healing process is rest. Simple rest.  The pure act of healing is to be underestimate for the weeks to come.