I'm still here.

Hey, guess what? I’m alive.

You know what? Stuff has happened. That’s fine: you know what year it is, what the problems in the world are, what’s going on, and I’m not qualified or really at all prepared to write about any of it.

Instead, let’s go all the way back… to this past Saturday.

I slept in a little - I think I got up around 10:30. Yay to my husband for enabling this. Once I was up, I got dressed and decided to take a walk.

I’ve been bad about walking, lately. I’ve gained a few pounds (this started before quarantine so we can’t blame it all on that), and I’ve noticed some huffing and puffing (non-COVID related), and my activity, on most levels, is at an all-time low… so I took a walk. It was no big deal: my usual 2 miles, a nice slow-paced walk around the neighborhood.

When I got home, Patrick had to go out, so I decided to clean the new bathroom. I’ve cleaned it since the construction, but not like this. I scrubbed the tile, mopped the floor, wiped the dust from the windowsill, cleaned the toilet, took all the stuff off the counter and cleaned the stuff and the counter. I took the little drain thing out of the sink and cleaned inside there. Yeah: it was gross. I rearranged the stuff, and ordered replacement stuff, and when I was done, I made myself a late lunch, which I ate on the couch while watching a kind of stupid but oddly satisfying show called “The Great Flower Fight.”

When I was done eating my lunch, I checked on my kid, who was happily Facetiming with his friends and killing people in Roblox, so I went into the bedroom and decided to take a nap.

This is when things get funky.

I was lying there, reading some shit on my phone. It is entirely possible that I was looking for photos from Princess Beatrice’s secret wedding. What? She wore her grandmother the Queen’s hand-me-down gown (and ruined it with her millennial, twee updates. Those sleeves were a huge mistake. And I much preferred the original hemline). Other than the dress, she looked lovely - her hair and her bouquet were so pretty, and her husband [who I keep reading is a bit of a rake] looked very handsome; they both seemed happy). But while I was lying there, assessing their wedding outfits, I got a little message on my Apple Watch.

It was one of those heart rate alerts, where it tells you that it noticed you’ve been inactive for a least 10 minutes, but your heart rate is high. In my case, it was 153.

I have a naturally low heart rate. Everyone knows about it at my doctor’s office, I’m sure it’s in my chart; no one ever panics about it unless it’s a different nurse than usual and a particularly low day: then they will make me sit there for a while to make sure I’m not going to pass out. I never have. My doctor knows about it and he doesn’t worry about it, so neither do I.

So when I got this alert, which I’ve never seen before, or even knew about, I kind of freaked out. I sat there, staring at my watch for a while. I felt my heart, or what I thought was my heart, beating away in a new, awkward way.

Have you ever noticed that when you focus on your heart involuntarily beating, you suddenly realize that it could stop at any second?

I had read somewhere about someone doing this breathing thing to calm down where they would breathe in for 4 seconds, hold it for 4 seconds, and exhale for 4 seconds. I thought, OK, I’ll do that. Let’s see if I calm down.

I didn’t calm down. Instead, I started panicking, more. Jules was in his room, chatting with his friends, watching Pokemon, killing people in Roblox.

I was in the back bedroom, about to die.

Even though my historical health history includes this dynamic low blood pressure thingy, I do have relatives - close, personal, relatives - with heart problems. I do, maybe, have some anxiety issues. And Patrick wasn’t home. I thought, should I call the neighbor to let her know that Jules was alone in the house, I was having some sort of medical emergency… and what? Worry HER, and Jules, and everyone? Should I call 9-1-1? “Hello, my watch just told me I had an unusually high BPM thing? You know, the heart rate monitor thing Apple does? Yeah is that normal?”

What kind of an idiot do you think I am? Well, some kind, sure, but not THAT kind.

So I texted my big brother and my big sister, and I said, all nonchalantly,

“Hey have either of you ever had your Apple watch alert you about your heart rate?” Like, wow, did you know this thing even CAN DO that?

We texted back and forth about this for a while, and I kept my attitude light (I think), and they calmed me down a little, and unbeknownst to them, I cried a little (seriously, anxiety or panic, or whatever), and as the afternoon went on my numbers went down little by little, and I started thinking more logically.

Patrick texted me that he was on his way home. He’d been doing some family stuff that was a bit heavy and I felt bad writing it but I said, “Could you come right home? I don’t feel good.” So he did.

When he got home, I told him everything I’ve written here, and as we were talking about it, I started to wonder if this had anything to do with all the burping I’ve been doing? The nine trips to the bathroom I’ve made today? The way I walked and drank a little water, but then cleaned and didn’t eat anything all day except a cookie until 3 p.m. when I had a huge tuna sandwich with half an avocado, some Doritos, and a diet Coke?

Seriously, Irene? DORITOS.

Suddenly I realized that it was probably some knuckleheaded choices I had made, garden variety indigestion, combined with my anxiety (and maybe, a teeny tiny bit of depression and stupid Dark Thoughts about Death) and an average of only about 500 steps per day, and suddenly it made a little more sense.

Since then I’ve taken at least 1 walk a day (today I took two, and finally hit 10,000 steps for the first time in months), I’ve been drinking a lot more water, and I did a moment of not-meditation but just breathing. I also spent one of my breaks watching Pokemon with Jules and chilling out instead of working straight through.

So, can indigestion make your heart rate go up? I don’t know, man, I read a bunch of stuff while this was happening and after, and I guess so, I mean, I think it can. Did I call the doctor and make an appointment? Well, I tried to do it online but Kaiser isn’t making online appointments for physicals or stuff like that, and I was too busy and feeling too normal today to call in to talk to someone about it (“hi, um, so I want to see my doctor because of this thing with my watch? Yes I KNOW people are dying and you’re putting your life at risk to see patients and my stupid thing is probably just me, freaking out about some technology and my 2nd gen Apple watch….”).

Yeah, you know what? I didn’t feel like having that conversation today. But maybe I will, tomorrow.