Last Tuesday was our first day of P90X.
We completed the second day on Wednesday.
And the third day on Thursday.
By Friday, I was so sore I could hardly move, but we completed our fourth day, a 90-minute yoga session, on Friday night. It wasn't until Saturday, when I woke up and remembered my husband complaining about chest pains on Friday afternoon, that I felt like an idiot for suggesting that he do any additional exercise until he was checked out by a doctor.
Due to the aforementioned health scare, Saturday and Sunday we didn't complete any workouts, unless you count the hours I spent taking online training courses, pouring over the Girl Scout leadership handbook, organizing the troop, setting up a Yahoo Group and sorting through various e-mails about dances and cookie sales and encampment opportunities.
Ah yes, now I better understand why they gave me a standing ovation when I signed on to be the troop leader, three weeks ago...
Charlie had his doctor appointment on Monday. He made that appointment, as we were driving to our new pediatric dentist's office and I asked for the umpteenth time if he'd please just hurry up and call and make an appointment to have his "heart flutters" checked out as soon as possible.
Because Charlie hasn't chosen a doctor since we've moved to Virginia, one was randomly assigned to him from within our health care service plan. When he called the doctor whose name was on his insurance card Monday, he was surprised that it was a Vietnamese practice and English was a very distant second (perhaps even third), language.
Unfortunately, Charlie doesn't speak Vietnamese.
So he called my doctor's office. And when he told them that he had been having heart flutters and some chest pains, they wanted to see him immediately. Not later that week as he had suggested ... but right then.
He was hooked up for an EKG and diagnosed with an abnormal heartbeat and something called a Right Bundle Branch Blockage (RBBB). While BBB's are quite common, the fact that he has this, in conjunction with what we believe may have been atrial fibrillations, has elevated the concern level. So, he has been referred to a cardiologist.
Monday we didn't do any exercise. Last night, he convinced me that he was FINE and we completed day five. But I must admit, I'm not sure if I was so tired from the actual workout, or from looking over at him and worrying that at any moment he would keel over. It was impossible for me to focus on my repetition count, when the only numbers that were dancing through my head were 30 compressions, 2 breaths.
30 compressions, 2 breaths.
30 compressions, 2 breaths.
His appointment with the cardiologist isn't for two weeks and the fact that he wasn't referred immediately, and his doctor has endorsed us taking a vacation next week, gives me hope that this isn't as dire of a situation as my mind is trying to lead me to believe. Regardless, we'll probably be taking it easy for a little while until we can get a clear diagnosis on his condition and ensure that he's safe to BRING IT for the next three months.
At the moment, just hearing the words, "abnormal, blockage and heart" in the same sentence as my husband, love of my life, father of my children, better half - is raising my own heart rate more than any workout I've done in the past week.