Forget-Me-Nots

On each of my pacemaker’s first four birthdays I have marked the day here on my blog, wishing it a Happy Birthday and thanking it for the work that it is selflessly doing on my behalf. A fifth birthday is different, a bit more special, so it only seems right that I do something different.

Which is what I did. I forgot its birthday altogether.

Pacemaker day is January 22nd, and went by uncelebrated. I thought about its imminent arrival in the days coming up to it, but not once on the day itself did the significance of the date sink in.

Since we are as close as it is possible to be, practically joined at the hip (though if that were true it would mean that the doctors had put it in wrongly) I imagine that this is the equivalent of forgetting one’s Wedding Anniversary.

The pacemaker is probably not speaking to me, and may maintain a frosty silence for the next few days.

Or not. As a general rule, hearing nothing from your pacemaker is a Good Thing, since that means that the heart that it is meant to kick-start should the heart decide it’s time for a quick nap is behaving itself. So perhaps the pacemaker will do the opposite, turning on at random times of its own accord, giving me the sudden inner jolt that I feel on the occasions (thankfully, very rare occasions) that it has to leap into action, like a metal Batman summoned by the Batsignal. This usually causes the muscles around it to go into spasm for up to an hour afterwards, and is a thoroughly unpleasant experience. It may, if it is feeling particularly offended, time these jolts for when I am deep asleep, or on a training course (I have one tomorrow, I’m sorry I have just given it that idea) or sitting, as I am now, on a crowded bus.

Anyway, Happy Birthday to my pacemaker. I hope it can forgive me for being late.

I wonder should I buy it flowers.

About these ads

8 thoughts on “Forget-Me-Nots

  1. Tremendous that you’ve remembered it up to now. The forgetting is symptomatic of acceptance, everydayness, all is wellness. It was touch and go whether they gave me one last year, and it may still come to that, so your post is reassuring.

  2. Jo says:

    Nope. I think it’s actually a wonderful thing. Means it’s become a part of you you don’t think about, and there no longer such an issue. I think it’s happy for you to forget. x

  3. I think it’s a good thing you forgot the pacemaker’s birthday. It means it’s become such a part of you, like your own heart that you don’t think about it as separate anymore. It’s nice that you celebrated its birthday, but now it’s really a part of you. You are freed from thinking about it. Think of it as a sort of freedom.

  4. I am way late to the party, but my suggestion would be to sit back in the corner of the pub and raise a glass to your heart’s other half then let the liquid slip down easily for both of you to enjoy!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s