So, a few weeks ago, there was a little bit of a scare regarding my cardiac health. I’ve been busier than a dude with one leg who’s the MVP of a kickball team, so let me do an organized update …
- I’m fine: Under medical advice, I’ve begun a very conservative regime of pharmaceutical treatments and have been responding well to something called “beta blockers.” Honestly, they use a lot of words I don’t understand, but they keep reiterating that I am, as of now, okay.
- What happened? I had a tachycardiac arrhythmia (although, with the dips, it actually seemed like bradycardia too, but whatever), which basically means my heart didn’t beat in the regular kick drum fashion it should, instead adopting more of a drum & bass attitude about its operation. I did not have a heart attack, although it could have become one, apparently.
- Ooh … what happened next? This led to some other interesting discoveries and riveting discussions, all the way up to me getting an angiogram (which a cardiologist scoffed at as “not even really surgery, but it was the closest I’ve ever been). As noted, I responded to beta blockers but — honestly — they don’t know why it happened.
- Am I okay? Physically, I’m technically okay, and they’re doing more tests and research to see what’s up. I’m almost back to normal around my kids and wife. I’m back at work.
- For real, am I okay? Not really. I’ve been healthy pretty much my whole life. My arteries are crystal clear. Blood pressure, cholesterol, all basic tests they could take show me as wholly “normal,” which makes this freak me out even more. The idea that all the curation and careful taking care of myself (aside from the scary amount of stress I’ve been under since maybe September) could be for naught and I could just fall over regardless, leaving a widow and bereaved kids, is the scariest thing I’ve ever encountered and I’m honestly not dealing with it so well. I’m here, and that has to count for something, but I’m pretty much completely wigged out.
- What will I do? Try to calm down. Try to say “no” sometimes even though I’m getting some amazing opportunities. Take my medicine. Hug my family. Keep writing — all my projects are pretty much in track, being Waso: Will To Power in July from Stranger Comics, an issue of Watson & Holmes with 2 Guns and Punisher writer Steven Grant from New Paradigm Studios in October or so, plus of course my issue of Artifacts from Top Cow (an imprint of Image Comics) in December or January. Learn how to slow down, somehow.
That’s that, pretty much. My wife has been outlandishly supportive, taking on the daunting task of most of our move and establishing our new home. Some really amazing friends have stepped up and helped make a way out of no way. I’m moving forward, you know? Even with trepidation, it’s still forward.
I don’t want to talk about it, though, since that freaks me out even more. I’ve done research, I’ve had research and options presented to me, I just … I just want to live, I guess. To keep going. Accomplish. That’s what feels right. I turned forty in January, it maps out that I couldn’t remain physically flawless forever, right?
Anyhoo, here’s hoping this update answers enough of the questions floating around.
Playing (Music): “Heart Attack” by Demi Lovato (my wife and nine-year-old love that song, ironically enough)