This year Valentine’s Day is not only a day to exchange boxes of chocolate and read the sweetest love poem that Rocky wrote for me in Spanish, but a chance to express my gratitude for a mostly-healed heart.

Last September, while leading our Spain Hiking & Yoga Retreat, my heart started racing every time I climbed a steep trail. The first time it happened, I thought it was a fluke.  The hikes were trails I had done multiple times in the past without trouble so I  blamed it on a lack of sleep the night before, excitement about the start of the retreat and wondered if I had eaten enough breakfast. Anything to distract myself from thinking there was a real physical problem.

Just a few months prior, we had been hiking in the alps in Chamonix, France and I had not had any challenges climbing steeper alpine trails. Since walking, hiking and yoga are part of my weekly routine, I didn’t think I had suddenly gotten out of shape. Our hiking guides suggested I just slow down going up hill and advised me to take the role of the “shepherd,” staying at the back of our group of hikers.

The heart-racing only occurred when I was going up hill so I maintained an adequate pace to keep up with the group, speeding up on the downhills and the flat parts of the trail.  Luckily, teaching and practicing yoga never caused any trouble. I was mystified.

After returning from the retreat, I visited my doctor, hoping she would explain away the strange phenomena. An EKG revealed I had Afib, an abnormal heartbeat, but she was not concerned because I was in good health otherwise. She sent me to the lab for blood tests.

When I got home from the lab, my doctor called and explained that she had shown my EKG to a cardiologist in her practice. He advised her to send me to the ER immediately. I guessed I was not going to my Spanish class that morning after all, but I still wasn’t too concerned.

Rocky was at the grocery store so I caught a taxi and texted him that I was going to the hospital and not to worry. Surely it was a routine visit to rule out anything menacing.

When I arrived at the ER, the relaxed approach I expected completely vanished. The ER staff were waiting for me and as soon as I showed my ID, they wheeled me into a room and quickly pulled off my shirt and bra. They attached more heart monitors and summoned the on-call cardiologist. Not even going uphill gets your heart speeding like being in the ER of a hospital in a foreign country anticipating an introduction to a cardiologist and praying you can understand her.

The cardiologist explained that they were going to inject me with adrenaline to see how my heart reacted but not to worry because they had a crash cart nearby. Then she asked me if that was alright with me. Keep in mind, I’m in a Spanish ER with no shirt on, hooked up to heart monitors and being asked if they can shoot me up with a potentially dangerous substance. Reluctantly, I gave her permission but not without substantial worry. Tears gathered at the sides of my eyes and I wished I had waited for Rocky to come with me.

After administering the adrenaline and watching the rhythm of my heart, the cardiologist gave me medication to calm my heart and told me they would monitor me for several hours. The nurse said, “Tranquila…” Take it easy…

Minutes later they wheeled a young man into the same room who had overdosed on drugs. We were separated only by a standing screen that covered the length of his body and mine. I could see his bald head and tattooed shoulders but nothing else.

Apparently, he was moving in and out of consciousness so the nurses were yelling loudly at him. “What drugs did you take?” “Stay awake!” “Wake up!”  Lying half naked on a hospital bed, hooked up to constantly beeping monitors and being told to “Take it easy” while sharing a room with a semi-conscious guy they were slapping and shouting was almost comical. Was I in a skit on Saturday Night Live?

When I finally retrieved my phone from a nurse, I took a photo of the sleeping dude next to me and texted it to Rocky saying, “Just want you to know that I’m better off than this guy.” Although I tried to keep my message light, Rocky was pretty stressed after waiting three hours to hear from me. When I eventually left the hospital, my roommate was still snoring loudly. At least he was alive.

What followed was three months of trying to learn relevant medical vocabulary in Spanish for a condition called atrial flutter. Initially, my every day Spanish was not sufficient for understanding the procedures, lab tests and outcomes the doctors wanted to discuss. Before moving to Spain I had hoped that we wouldn’t have to deal with any challenging medical issues until we had a few years to improve our language ability. This was a little quicker than I had hoped.

After visits with three cardiologists, three months of weekly lab draws, multiple prescriptions of blood thinners, and beta blockers, one aborted attempt to shock my heart back into rhythm which was halted because they found a blood clot, I was ready to have another electro cardioversion. The procedure was timed for one week before we were to fly to Boston to see our boys for Christmas. A successful outcome was vital if I was going to get to fly.

We arrived at the hospital in time for my 4 pm procedure. The nurses prepped me and I was ready to proceed within a half hour. They left me lying on a table in the refrigerator-cold surgery room listening to the now familiar beeps of the heart beat monitor.

One hour turned into two and the cardiologist still had not arrived. I was cold, nervous and anxious to get started. While waiting, I remembered a meditation I had learned during an online training from Trudy Goodman, a meditation teacher. Called the Jelly Roll Meditation, it was just the sweet distraction I needed.

Trudy invited us to think about every person we knew who would be happy if something good happened to us. She instructed us to picture all those people who love us, all the pets we’ve ever had and any celestial beings we like to call on. Imagine they are all gathered around us in a circle and  looking at us with very kind eyes. Trudy encouraged us to notice any impulse to hide or deflect this unconditional love. Instead, she suggested, imagine you are looking into the eyes of each of these beings. Then, take the time to bow to or deeply hug each person in your circle. Greet each one and thank them as they dissolve back into your heart and become part of you.

This meditation helped boost my confidence and gave me the sense that I was not alone in that super cold surgery room. Minutes later the cardiologist and the anesthesiologist arrived to start the procedure. The cardiologist explained that I would be anesthetized so that they could insert a scope down my throat. The scope would help them check to see if any clot remained which would prevent them from doing the electro cardioversion.

He got my attention when he added, “if you don’t have any clots, we will bring you out of anesthesia and let your other cardiologist know that he can proceed with the electro cardioversion next week.” Maybe it was the three months of Spanish medical vocabulary study or maybe it was the power of the Jelly Roll meditation, but I heard myself say rather emphatically, “No. That is not what is happening tonight. Tonight you will put me under, make sure I don’t have any clots and then do the shock therapy treatment, as scheduled. There is absolutely no reason for any delays. I want this taken care of now. I have tickets to fly to Boston in one week to see my boys and I intend to be on that plane.”

From the looks on their faces, these two specialists were not accustomed to being told what to do. I promise you I had not planned to speak to them that way either! The cardiologist said he had to make a call. I imagined it was to his wife to say he would be home later than expected. Minutes later, I was counting down to an induced sleep.

When I woke up, all the equipment had been moved and I was alone in recovery. It was impossible to know how long I had been out or whether the procedure was a success. Then I noticed the heart monitor was still hooked up and my rhythm was normal for the first time in three months. My heart beat was regular. This time the tears were happy ones.

I’m back to walking stairs and hills and even did 12.5 kilometers of snowshoeing on Saturday. We snowshoed on one of the trails that had slowed me to a crawl in September. Since snowshoeing is more challenging than hiking, I wasn’t sure what to expect. I noticed I wasn’t as speedy going up hills as I used to be but it wasn’t because my heart was racing. I just need to do more hiking to get back into shape again!

Obviously, there are many medical conditions far more serious than atrial flutter. What complicated my journey was having to deal with it in Spanish. I had some Spanish friends who offered to translate for me but the appointments were so frequent, I did not want to rely on them.

Now that this chapter is behind me, I am counting my blessings for the fabulous care I received from all the nurses, doctors, cardiologists and lab techs, as well as the Spanish medical insurance that covered almost all of the expenses. Taking a taxi to the hospital in Oviedo cost 50 euros (about $53) which was more than all of my out-of-pocket expenses for the ER, lab visits and the elctro cardioversion treatment. My heart is no longer broken and I am not broke as a result!  Did I mention that this fabulous all-inclusive insurance is 160 euros per month (about $171) for the two of us?

Valentine’s Day feels like the perfect day to celebrate the end of this healing journey and of course, eat more chocolate. Thank you, Friends, for being part of my Jelly Roll Circle. I felt your support and the way you are part of me even when we are apart. No matter what struggles you might be facing, you can also use this meditation when you need a community to lean into. Big hugs to you, my Valentines!  Now back to that box of chocolate, which is also healing, you know?

Notes from the author:

Now that my heart has healed, I can get back to thinking about our retreats. Most of them are full this year already. However, you are in luck because we’ve just had a couple spots open in the Spain Hiking & Yoga Retreat and the first week of the Journey to Greece retreat.

If I’ve learned anything from this health scare, it is to make the most of each day! Nothing is promised to us. Have you dreamed about going to the Galapagos? Join us in January of 2024!