I’ve just returned from an echocardiogram appointment. The results were reassuring; especially because I am almost exactly one year older than my dad was when he had his first pacemaker installed. My dad died of a broken heart in 2008.
The young technician was cheerful, thorough, and cute. She showed me the images screen, pointing to and explaining each of the multiple views and scores. When she said, “See this area. You have an open heart,” I almost cried at the physical validation of my psychological truth: I have an open heart.