Wyld Hart © Bríd Wyldearth
Non compacted left ventricular cardiomyopathy is a bit of a mouthful. I want to blog about having it because it is thought to be rare and I have yet to find anything written by another person with this kind of heart. Wild Hart is the only blog name that I liked that blogger would allow me to have but now that I have started writing, I realise how appropriate and affirming it is. This is the first time in the year since I was hospitalised and diagnosed with non compacted left ventricular cardiomyopathy that I have found a positive spin on it. My heart muscle failed to compact in the womb and while of course I would rather this had not happened, I like the idea that my heart had a mind of her own right from the very beginning and refused to be constrained by the rules of so called normality.
When I saw her dancing on her first echo gram, I fell in love with her. The beauty of her dance took my breath away. I could not tell from seeing her dancing whether or not there was anything wrong with her and in that moment it did not matter. She was and is perfect in her imperfection. She has, against significant odds kept me alive up until now. I later found out that she was acting like a frightened wild animal, a deer maybe, racing and panicking, making things worse in an effort to escape both the discomfort of feeling short of breath and the terrifying confinement of the busy, beeping, sleep disturbing hospital. The beautiful dance I was witnessing was a dance towards obsoletion. I did not choose to use an obsolete spelling of hart but in these circumstances, it seems appropriate.
When I saw her dancing on her first echo gram, I fell in love with her. The beauty of her dance took my breath away. I could not tell from seeing her dancing whether or not there was anything wrong with her and in that moment it did not matter. She was and is perfect in her imperfection. She has, against significant odds kept me alive up until now. I later found out that she was acting like a frightened wild animal, a deer maybe, racing and panicking, making things worse in an effort to escape both the discomfort of feeling short of breath and the terrifying confinement of the busy, beeping, sleep disturbing hospital. The beautiful dance I was witnessing was a dance towards obsoletion. I did not choose to use an obsolete spelling of hart but in these circumstances, it seems appropriate.
I hope to be dancing with my wild hart for a good while yet and I hope to use this blog to record how I am learning to dance with her and listen to her and make the best use I can of the resources that are available to me.
For the last ten years or so I have been painting heart shaped labyrinths and for the last couple of years i have been painting rainbow labyrinths and for the last three months they have become free form water colour meditations as depicted above. If this coincidental to my having cardiomyopathy, then it is a very happy and interesting coincidence. If it was my wyld hart trying to contact me through my deep inner consciousness, I would not be at all surprised.
For the last ten years or so I have been painting heart shaped labyrinths and for the last couple of years i have been painting rainbow labyrinths and for the last three months they have become free form water colour meditations as depicted above. If this coincidental to my having cardiomyopathy, then it is a very happy and interesting coincidence. If it was my wyld hart trying to contact me through my deep inner consciousness, I would not be at all surprised.
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