Heart to Heart

Only old people go to see a Cardiologist, don't they? Old people or people who eat more fried food than perhaps would be advised by one's local general practioner. Or so I had previously thought. Those who visit a cardiologist will almost always be aware of the fact that they are going to get the old ticker checked out and in a number of cases will probably carry with them a mixture of emotions; fear - quite probably, guilt - perhaps (see afore-mentioned fast food warriors), nervous anticipation - almost certainly, but above all perhaps, a mild sense of panic as they comes to terms with the reality that they are indeed mortal, non-indestructible, inevitably destined for the great golden arches in the sky as it were. How one deals with this realisation is uniquely personal and, to my admittedly under-resourced knowledge bank, there is no maunal or user guide to explain this to you. There are no workshops held where a representative in a sharp suit and a nice tie that you could never tie yourself no matter how hard you try, presents a well documented Powerpoint slideshow neatly detailing at what stage you should deal with your emotion [Stage 1 - Acceptance], tick the box and move onto the next set [Stages 2 - 6, Anger through to Contentment via Frustration then coffee break, ] until you reach the finish post [Stage 7 - Confidence] and walk away with a smile and a nicely framed certificate of your achievements. [incidentally if anyone knows of such a course, please email me details]. The very fact that such people get to deal with the storming torrent of emotions that goes with such an experience is the crux of this matter.

My little one (hereafter referred to as BabyT - am not giving away the sex in this Blog...) was quite happy growing away and blissfully unaware of the implication that their little engine was causing in the outside world. I sometimes feel a sense of envy of that state of ignorance, imagine if you will, living in a state where there was no worry, no fear and no panic, a nirvana of perpetual calm almost. It is something we all strive for, count the number of aromatic candles in your current abode for a brief and almost crass example of this, but in all honesty, rarely achieve. I have been attempting to leverage off that envy and turn it into something positive, BabyT is not aware of their heart and the possible problems, therefore they are not worried about it, ergo they are happy still concerning themselves primarily with putting on some more fat. Children with Down's Syndrome are susceptible to heart 'problems'. I use the inverted commas to simply capture the intensly broad range of issues that could potentially occur, there are too many to simply list here so please see here for further details. Due to the dignosis that we had received previously, it was necessary to go through more scans and tests to either confirm the presence of a heart problem or not. This was a particularly damoclean situation to find ourselves in, on the one hand it could absolve the panic and worries we were experiencing and allow us the briefest of respites, whilst on the other hand it could confirm our worst and most tortuous fears. First scan up...


We were forewarned that because BabyT was still very young and the heart was the size of a fingernail (unbelievable, just think about that for a second.....a lifeforce so very very small, incredible), anything that showed up might not be anything after all, it was just a matter of waiting it out. True to form, they left us hanging at the end with the possibility that one of the heart walls was thicker than the other side, "come back in four weeks when we'll be able to get a better view". Oh terrific. Four weeks came and went and we received encouraging news that in fact, BabyT's heart was looking good and pumping vigourously away, all chambers and valves and associated articles were all present and correct and ready for action. This was the point the Cardiologist came in.


The afternoon of the appointment with the Cardiologist is the day I fell further out of amore with Dublin city traffic. I detest it as much as the next frustrated driver but I will never forgive it for making me miss the most important and significant appointment in the little one's life up to that point. For the lovely Mrs T to go through that on her own is something I'll never forgive myself for. The good news was delivered to me as I frantically bowled into the hospital (it had to be the only hospital appointment in history to run on time of course) but not, by all accounts, before BabyT gave us yet another scare. A "raggedy looking valve" turned out to be fine but I swear, sometimes I think the wee one is just messing with our heads, (perhaps something for me to recall upon when pocket money time comes in circa ten years from now....) for their own antenatal amusement.


So all looks good, the chances of having an issue were in and around the 50% mark so we were delighted. There has been a lot of talk recently about the challenges that BabyT will face in their life, well I am taking extreme comfort and confidence from the fact that, when faced with the first real challenge of their short little life so far, they passed with an A+ and left us positively reeling in the wake of this news. It gives me an almost wry smile to think of BabyT in the belly, steadily gaining weight and wondering what all the fuss is about on the outside. Well, this is a personal memo to you BabyT, you just keep doing what you're doing in there and we will have the most amount of fun when you arrive. I am not going to pretend that we are out of the woods yet, there will be a lot more to come and to be honest, I am not sure if we have even entered the woods yet let alone got out of them. To be frank, we haven't even yet been warned to stay away from the woods, perhaps by a scary old-man Withers from the amusement park type character (for further reference see the literary offerings of Doo, Scooby. The Adventures Of...) so this is the start of a very long road. But it is a road that we will travel together, all three of us and I can't wait for that journey.


32 weeks are up on Sunday so a daunting realisation that this is really happening has crept in. It might sound obvious but life begins again in and around a couple of months. Lots more to say, but for now I doff my cap and carry on my way...