by Diana Rusu
I’ve been diagnosed with MVP (mitral valve prolapse) two years ago. Statistics show that 2 – 3 % of the population has it. While it can be risk-free, it can also give you cardiac arrest. But “individuals with mitral valve prolapse, particularly those without symptoms, often require no treatment”. I’m going to keep the mild palpitations, anxiety and low blood pressure, I can’t control having them, but what I can do is hold their horses.
Hold my horses, I love this saying. I’ve been an expert in holding horses since early childhood. My parents say I was quiet and submissive every time a nurse came to me with needles and syringes - while my (same age) cousin would literally hide in the closet, I would put my stress in the closet. Well it’s needles to say that neither of us two is 100% mentally healthy today. My little monsters had little babies in the closet, and now they love to release them in the world, every once in a while. They let them out early enough to mess up with my veins and make my blood flow backwards (and made me not want to wear skirts ever again since age 18).
Teenage years were a nightmare in terms of making friends. My palms would regularly get these itchy blisters that would eventually break and cause infinite pain and even more anxiety of not showing my hands to anyone. It was called dyshidrotic eczema and doctors believe that you have a greater chance of developing the condition if you’re experiencing a high level of stress (either physical or emotional). Springtime was always the beginning of a beautiful dyshidrosis and wouldn’t leave me alone until autumn. As I grew up, the condition disappeared completely in my early twenties. Scientists can say all they want about how the exact cause of dyshidrotic eczema is unknown, but I know. I mean, it’s the monsters in the closet.
On the other hand, living with a heart condition can be challenging sometimes; it makes you think twice before you start “choking with dry tears and raging, raging, raging at the absolute indifference of nature and the world to the death of love, the death of hope and the death of beauty” (as Stephen Fry says it better than anyone else).
I take this challenge as a marking of a limit: how far should we go, anyway? Sometimes I wish I was Bjork and have limitless emotions, but then I realize I’m just an ordinary, average woman and those conditions are/were my boundaries. Or maybe not, but as long as Mercury is retrograde I feel like hiding myself in a closet until the days get longer and everything is reborn.