When I got my first stethoscope, I laid down at my bed, put the diaphragm at the 5th left intercostal space, mid clavicular line.
It's where the heart shouts the loudest.
There's something more about these beats that's so soothing and calming.
During my Revalida, they asked me to recite the cardiac cycle and I breezed on it like ABC, and from the confidence it gave me, I knew I would pass.
I love hearing hearts.
They remind you that you're alive.
That that machine was there even before you were born.
Something more about the cardiac cycle and the Korotkoffs.
It's baseline rhythm of what the body sings each day.
It beat fast on the first kiss,
jumping during remedial exams,
galloping during basketball,
laughing with me while drunk,
and steady while asleep.
When I first got my steth, I slept with that thing on me. It's bell on my apex, earpiece on my ears.
My own heart beat tucked me to bed
==
She and I were staring at the ceiling
as if we could see the stars beyond,
blessing what we have,
and the sky laid itself upon us.
She put her ear near my chest and my heart was beating fast,
I started to think I was already hypertensive.
She said she will miss me.
The way my chest throbbed was all so familiar, but louder.
As if it was waiting for the right ears for it to listen to all the stories the heart was about to say when it was waiting.
So I grabbed my steth,
put it in my chest and let her listen.
I did the same thing to her as well,
and memorized every lub and dub and pound and beat and the calm sense of peace that it brought me,
and how everything was right
I told her to keep the steth
so that everytime she'd miss me,
she'd wear those plugs and it will bring her back to that night when she and my mediastinum talked.
That stethoscope was special.
All the hearts it heard,
all the grumpy bowel sounds,
and wheezes
and crackles,
all the stories it gathered,
all the music it amplified,
I even put a rosary on it to remind me where I'm coming from.
All those battles I grabbed it like a soldier holding his gun during duties,
and all the nights I couldn't sleep and couldn't find peace,
or just couldn't find a reason.
The stethoscope was special. She was special. So I let her keep it.
I asked her to keep it as long as we're together.
Hoping she could hear my heartbeats too,
even if it's on her chest wall.
Because maybe,
just maybe,
I thought our hearts beat the same.
Maybe it did.
Maybe it didnt.
==
Now the old steth is back in my house again.
When I tried listening to it now, I swear I could hear her heart pleading,
her chest crying, gnawing as if it's the only way she could ever talk to me again.
Echoes of 'I'm sorries' and 'I will change for the better' -
sometimes it's loud enough to bring me back to all the days we were a heartbeat away.
I loved that old steth, and I will always love it.
My first mortality, my first crackle, my first code, revalida, the magic of fetal heart tones, of equal breath sounds...
I loved her, and I thought I always will.
But I needed to have a new set of steth to listen with.
Not that the old one is broken,
not that there is a change of heart it always listen to,
but it needed a whole new perspective from soundwaves,
one that amplifies murmurs or anything wrong,
that loudens what's important,
and give clarity to what I'm really looking for.
Today, I always bring with me a new and a lot better stethoscope.
Although when I try listening to my chest walls lately all I hear is a car-alarmed heart,
clamoring for questions
and rumbling for answers.
But that's more reason I know I should be thankful for.
Because at least I know I still have a working heart,
and despite the sad song it weeps every night I try to force myself to sleep,
I learn how to sing along.
With this new gear, I get a better sense of hearing and feeling,
a better pair of machine to filter out unnecessary noises
and focus on what I needed to hear.
And hopefully may it help find the heart it's been long looking for,
the chest it will always lust for,
and the beat it will always be all too familiar.
The beat that will send me home.
==
As for you, whoever you are, I will find you.
Hiding in between S1 and S2 and back, and maybe even S3,
and I will Love You beyond the murmurs and arrythmias,
as long as you could ride with my tachycardia and bounding pulses
because you know I will never settle for anything less than that.
I will Love You the exact way I wanted to be Loved.
I will have your cardiac cycle memorized and describe them like how I did in my Revalida.
And we will sing our sinus rhythm,
hum through rising pulse rates,
through septic hypotensions,
through slow and calm bradycardias,
until
the
beating
stops.