In fairness, systole IS kind of a big deal. And when the muscle gets weak and doesn’t do what it’s supposed to do, we can all agree that that’s an even bigger deal.
Yup.
But what about how it relaxes? What about when that part gets messed up?
Output.
Output.
Output.
Later we’d learn that diastole matters, too. But it’s hard to think about that when it’s always been about systole.
For a lot of us (okay me) that’s a metaphor for my life—especially my professional life. It’s always been about systole. How to work hard and do more without tiring out.
Get As.
Get in med school.
Get a good residency.
Get a good job.
Get promoted.
Yup.
Over time, my life’s systolic function was fantastic. My ability to relax? Not so much. I was proud of my EF:
Got As.
Got in med school.
Got a good residency.
Got my dream job.
Even have 2 kids, a great partner, and a dog.
I told myself this was fine. And I believed it.
I wasn’t intentional about vacations or nonessential self care. I focused more on work and the needs of others than myself.
Output.
Output.
Output.
What I did do for me was in the context of convenience. Forgetting that a chamber that doesn’t get filled can’t work.
Nope.
Was it because I didn’t have support? Nah. Mostly it was because, much like when I was a med student, I had no idea that diastole was a thing that should have my attention.
But now we know different. We speak of wellness and self care. But old habits die hard, man.
Yeah.
An octogenarian patient once told me:
“Make sure you take the time to do stuff. Stuff for you. While you still got all the rhythm in your hips.”
I think that was a lesson in diastole. And was when I realized how bad my diastolic dysfunction had become.
Like, what if time with friends could make me better mentor? Or riding a giant water slide with my son could give me courage to take on a new role? Or taking a 14 day trip overseas might give me inspiration to do more where I am?
Kind of like ventricular remodeling, right?