Sad side of Joe
I have a bad heart and it scares me sometimes. It ended my sports career, it put me on permanent medication, it changed my life totally. When people tell me that I have a big heart.... it's true! Actually it's about 1.5 times larger the average size, even for a large person.
How did I find out? Well it all happened back in the glory days of track. I was a physical phenomenon, benching 500 ... squatting 700 and running faster than people half my size. I worked out like a freak, like 2-3 hrs a day (combining technique, lifting and cardio) and I noticed that my ticker felt extremely strange when I exercised.
*Keep in mind that the next paragraph took more than a whole year*
I contacted my family doctor, told him the story.... and then took a stress test. The results were bad, so I was referred to a Cardiologist. The Cardiologist put me through 8 different procedures including an echo cardiogram, a halter monitor and a cardiac catherization. Just so you know, the worst feeling in the world is sitting next to an 85 year old getting the same operation. At the time I was only 19... and for 6 months straight I wasn't allowed to lift anything over 10 pounds. I was laid off from my job and I had to give up the shot and discus.
Dr. Alvarez came to the conclusion that when my heart pumps, not enough blood circulates through my body. I was put on an ace inhibitor (which produces an enzyme to strengthen the squeeze) and a format to follow in my daily routine. Being young and having something like this happen is absolutely horrible. Aparently a virus caused the deformation in the muscle when I was little.
I have to get a checkup every 6 months or so.... and I have restrictions in certain areas. I'm allowed to lift weights and exercise, but not like I did when I was throwing for IUP. This isn't a huge deal overall (because everything else was fine), but it makes me think a lot.
What if I die tomorrow?
That may sound silly to all of you, but it really bothers me sometimes. I was thrown into a scenario where I'm sitting next to "grandpa", and he's having the same problems that I had. Who's to say that shit can't randomly hit the fan?
While I was on the operating table on one ocasion, the stupid nurse made a comment on how I was the youngest person she's ever seen go through the surgery. I'm sorry, but that's fucked up. To me that translates into "Well this kids got 20 to 30 more years... SUCKS TO BE HIM"
Unfortunately I packed on about 100 pounds since the ordeal, and there's not a whole lot I can do about it anymore. The medication makes me fluctuate in weight and I can only train hard enough to make a knick in my body size. I still have super human strength, which is cool.... but I don't want things to end early.
For some reason, Irony follows me around... just like those weird events and stories that I post on here.
After overcoming sooo many obstacles, my life is finally starting to fall in place... and the last thing I want is "Only the good die young." chisseled on my tombstone.
:(
How did I find out? Well it all happened back in the glory days of track. I was a physical phenomenon, benching 500 ... squatting 700 and running faster than people half my size. I worked out like a freak, like 2-3 hrs a day (combining technique, lifting and cardio) and I noticed that my ticker felt extremely strange when I exercised.
*Keep in mind that the next paragraph took more than a whole year*
I contacted my family doctor, told him the story.... and then took a stress test. The results were bad, so I was referred to a Cardiologist. The Cardiologist put me through 8 different procedures including an echo cardiogram, a halter monitor and a cardiac catherization. Just so you know, the worst feeling in the world is sitting next to an 85 year old getting the same operation. At the time I was only 19... and for 6 months straight I wasn't allowed to lift anything over 10 pounds. I was laid off from my job and I had to give up the shot and discus.
Dr. Alvarez came to the conclusion that when my heart pumps, not enough blood circulates through my body. I was put on an ace inhibitor (which produces an enzyme to strengthen the squeeze) and a format to follow in my daily routine. Being young and having something like this happen is absolutely horrible. Aparently a virus caused the deformation in the muscle when I was little.
I have to get a checkup every 6 months or so.... and I have restrictions in certain areas. I'm allowed to lift weights and exercise, but not like I did when I was throwing for IUP. This isn't a huge deal overall (because everything else was fine), but it makes me think a lot.
What if I die tomorrow?
That may sound silly to all of you, but it really bothers me sometimes. I was thrown into a scenario where I'm sitting next to "grandpa", and he's having the same problems that I had. Who's to say that shit can't randomly hit the fan?
While I was on the operating table on one ocasion, the stupid nurse made a comment on how I was the youngest person she's ever seen go through the surgery. I'm sorry, but that's fucked up. To me that translates into "Well this kids got 20 to 30 more years... SUCKS TO BE HIM"
Unfortunately I packed on about 100 pounds since the ordeal, and there's not a whole lot I can do about it anymore. The medication makes me fluctuate in weight and I can only train hard enough to make a knick in my body size. I still have super human strength, which is cool.... but I don't want things to end early.
For some reason, Irony follows me around... just like those weird events and stories that I post on here.
After overcoming sooo many obstacles, my life is finally starting to fall in place... and the last thing I want is "Only the good die young." chisseled on my tombstone.
:(