PVC: It's not just for pipes

How much do I love the internet?


You are all so sweet. I cannot believe the influx of emails I received when I posted about my silly little palpitating heart.

To answer all your questions at once, this is what the doctor found:

I have PVCs.

No, not the kind they use to connect toilets and sinks and run dirty sewer water through. That would be pretty disgusting inside my chest.

And noisy.

It simply means my little heart is getting ahead of itself, the valves are contracting prematurely, and it's throwing my whole heart into a tizzy. And as a result, that big jolt that I feel is just my heart resetting itself.

Which it seems to be fond of doing about 10 times an hour.

Twenty-four hours a day.

But the doctor assures me it is perfectly harmless, lots of people have it, and I have nothing to worry about. Turns out that my father has it, as did his mother before him.

Our family and our little over-excited hearts. Sheesh. Why couldn't we be the family with freakishly fast metabolisms who have to eat 4,000 calories a day just to keep from losing weight? WHY?

Thanks again for your concern, little friends in the internet. Just know that I'd totally bring you a plate of cookies if I could.

[And I'd also sit and help you eat them. I'm just a good person like that.]