After fourteen years with too numerous to count misdiagnoses, this is my daily journey living with an unknown disease that has made me fully physically dependent, living by the help from my family, friends, and beloved service dog. It is how I have chosen to define myself to remain whole in spite of it.

World Cup Blood Pressure

World Cup Blood Pressure

Tis the season of the World Cup. For those who do not know the World Cup, it is the biggest sporting event in the world. It’s the Olympics of soccer. Each nation that earned the slot to partake in the games, brings their finest, and play to win. Where as for the Olympics your interest might change depending on the sport and you over all cheer for your nation, this is one sport, and just about every nationality but the U.S. take it very seriously.

As I spent many of my formative years living in Argentina, I was introduced to how for 90 minutes an entire country can come together—cheering or crying. And, somehow over time, I became a World Cup fan too.

Which means, it’s the time of year, that for 90 minutes a few times a day, my blood pressure goes, “World Cup.” I.e., nuts. Let’s just say, I have learned to cheer just as, ahh, passionately, as those I watched around me as a child. Thankfully I have learned to pace myself, only watching, (and therefore getting involved), in the teams that I have a particular interest in.

Until you get to the really important matches, (knock out matches and finals), I learned to not get emotionally invested in the first half…In fact, I try to strategize that I miss it entirely…

Why?

Again, the whole, “World Cup blood pressure” syndrome… My body is literally worked up like an intense physical therapy session, and I find it so amusing, yet necessary business, I just endure it like a roller coaster. And my friends know it too. I have actually had one text me during a game once asking if I was remembering to breathe…

It’s like a roller coaster, one that slowly starts going forward. Then, you build up for the climb. The clock is ticking, the players are simoultaneously getting more tired and more serious. Then, someone scores. And the ride does a surprising dip. Or they miss, and the ride does a loop. The time is winding down, the crowd is getting more animated, more sad, the goalies are really beginning to count, and you’re wondering how many more loops are going to happen until the ride is over…The texts begin to increase, minutes away, and, in the best games, the players are still fighting to win…The ride is flying now, and you don’t know if another twistie-loop is coming, or just the slow-down and halt. My body is literally pooling in sweat from exertion of just watching, (and most likely a few expletives that were said).

Then, all of the sudden, it’s over.

Hopefully, your team wins. It’s exhilarating. The post-game high is adrenaline filled. And I’m thinking of all the things I could do, share the joy with, and then begin to contemplate the need for a rest…More like a time out with music to try to get my body re-calibrated.

Is it smart too wear myself out so much, in most likely less than 45 minutes?

When it comes to being a sports fan, does wisdom really ever enter it?

In all seriousness, it’s a choice. And there are many things I knowingly restrain myself from ever contemplating, let alone attempt of doing. But, since the World Cup is only every four years…..Well, it’s my summer indulgence!

Now, off to double check my bracket and rest up before the next game!

A Shriek or A Scream?

A Shriek or A Scream?

Book Corner

Book Corner