Vitals Pre- and Post-Cardiac Rehab

Hahaha, remember my previous post here where I talked about all the crazy stuff I was able to do in 5 days and not die thanks to the exercise I was doing?! And then how I said, "Hopefully, it won't take me another two months before I sit down to write about [the program again]"?!

Well, at least I was right in that it didn't take me two months...

But, honestly, though I do feel a bit guilty about my slacking, I can say it's happened because I've been out like, doing stuff y'all. This summer... I'm honestly getting all verclempt just thinking about it. Aaah! Talk amongst yourselves! I'll give you a topic!

 Oh geez, I just realized some of you may not even get this reference... #Imold

Oh geez, I just realized some of you may not even get this reference... #Imold

Seriously though, I'm sitting at my kitchen table almost in tears about it. I can't even begin to explain what this summer has meant to me. The fact that I've been able to play soccer three times a week in the heat of the South with people who have become like family to me... and the acceptance and understanding I've received... the growth I've gone through...

Ok, they are actual formed tears now so here's another Linda Richman/Mike Myers gif:

                                    Rhode Island. Neither a road nor an island... DISCUSS DISCUSS

                                   Rhode Island. Neither a road nor an island... DISCUSS DISCUSS

Sigh. I am just so grateful. It has been life-changing for me. It really has.

But, focus, Sarah! Give the people some concrete details! Because you know how it is! You've been on the other side listening to someone say X, Y, Z has helped them and you've laughed ruefully and bitterly!

So, yes, while experiences are important, the numbers I received when I visited my POTS doctor in August really kind of hit it home for me—that the exercise has been helping. Because while I had evidence of improvements (April wedding shenanigans, the glorious summer of soccer, etc.) it was still hard for me to believe/attribute it to the exercise. Like I said in earlier posts, I'm a bit jaded with "POTS treatments" because, hey, aren't we f'ing all at this point?

Anyhoo, when I saw my POTS doctor in January we were still trying to get me into the cardiac rehab program at the local center. At this time, I was taking Metoprolol to help control my heart-rate.

Here were my baselines (taken after lying down for three minutes, then taken after sitting for three minutes, etc.):


1/3/17

Heart-Rate
Supine to Sitting: heart-rate increased by 21 bpm.
Sitting to Standing: heart-rate increased by 24 bpm.

Blood-Pressure
Supine: 100/58
Sitting: 99/69
Standing: 95/65

Not too shabby, right? If I remember, I drank a crap ton of water that day, so the fact that my BP wasn't in the 80/50 region like usual was pretty freaking cool.

Fast forward seven months and two days, and keep in mind this is without Metoprolol as they wanted me off of it while completing the program:


8/1/17

Heart-Rate
Supine to Sitting: heart-rate increased by 4 bpm.......... FOUR.
Sitting to Standing: heart-rate increased by 17 bpm........... who are you and what have you done with my heart?!

Blood-Pressure
Supine: 118/55
Sitting: 109/59
Standing: 107/66

STANDING BLOOD-PRESSURE OF 107/66 AND ONLY 17 BPM INCREASE WITHOUT METOPROLOL AND WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE BODY SOME KIND OF ALMOST FUNCTIONING THING?! 

Needless to say, there was a bit of verclempt happening in the doctor's office that day, too.

Oh, and this. Lots of this:

                                                         Um... that... those numbers can't be right, can they?

                                                        Um... that... those numbers can't be right, can they?

So I don't know y'all. It's been a wild ride this year, for sure. Proceeded by 10 years of wild (mostly sedentary) rides. And it is still a fight, don't get me wrong. It's hard to get my three days a week of exercising in if I'm not chasing after a soccer ball like a rabbit after a carrot on a string. And there are still naps and brainfogs and tears but... I think... I this might be what it's like to be living again.