No amount of planning will save you

Or, how an earthquake made me think about my heart

A strangely beautiful map of the impact of the earthquake. Map: U.S. Geological Survey

Welcome! This is The Heart Dialogues, a free newsletter for people born with heart conditions (and the people who care about them). Every other week, I’ll send you candid conversations, essays, guest posts and/or interesting links about what it’s really like to live with a weird and special heart. Join this community and support my work. Sign up for free.

On Friday morning, I was at the computer working when my apartment building began to shake. First, I thought it was related to the construction work we’re having done on the lobby, but then the shaking continued for what felt like 15 or 30 seconds. My cat scrambled, trying to squeeze under the couch. Alone, I stood up and looked around, unsure what was happening or what to do. A 4.8-magnitude earthquake had struck New York and the surrounding area, although I didn’t know it at the time.

I positioned myself under an arched doorway, trying to recall any whispery memories of what to do in an earthquake. I thought of the recent 7.4-magnitude quake in Taiwan, which left at least nine dead and many hundreds injured, and wondered if this shaking was the start of something like that. Would this be one of those moments where my life forks into a before and after, from mundanity to tragedy in a morning? Mainly, the thought that crossed my mind was, fuck, I am not prepared for this. I didn’t know what to grab. I didn’t know where to stand. I didn’t know the best way to protect myself. I hadn’t planned for this at all. 

This was odd. I am an inveterate planner, always gaming out how things will go wrong and making contingencies. It’s not pessimism, exactly. I don’t believe that things always will go wrong. It’s just that if they do, I want to have a handle on them. This has served me well in my work life, where I’m often thinking several steps ahead. It’s also prevalent in my personal life. I’m the kind of person whose purse is packed with lip balm, a granola bar, Tylenol, tampons, pens, business cards, antacid tablets, hair elastics, a spare mask—all jammed in there with the words you never know running through my mind. 

This might be the result of an anxious mother, or being her firstborn, or our culture’s messages to women, or any number of reasons. But I think a lot of it has to do with growing up with a heart condition. I’ve never known a life where the “worst case scenario” hasn’t already happened. I was always aware that something—some big thing—could go wrong. The rare disease that affects only about 1 in 10,000 Americans? Turns out that’s not just something that happens to other people. It happened to me. 

This “just in case” mindset has gotten worse in the past couple of years. Several emergency-room visits for an arrhythmia have highlighted the possibility that at any moment my heart might start to race out of control and I’ll spend the day in the hospital. I started carrying a phone charger (the single most important hospital accessory!) with me. I also carry a prescription bottle of a fast-acting beta blocker—sometimes it stops the rapid beats—even on errands around the neighborhood. I am always clocking what I’m wearing and how messy my apartment is…just in case…something…happens. I know there’s a level of paranoia at work here. But “you never know” has a spell-like power over me, and I carry these things along anyway, talismans against an uncertain future. 

It is, of course, a mirage. Preparing for all of life’s crises, drawing a map for all of life’s unforeseen forks in the road, is impossible. No matter how many contingencies or pill bottles I have on hand, something will shake me out of my preparations. I need to remember that. I need to let go a little sometimes.

For now? I’m reading up on what to do in an earthquake. Stay clear of windows. Don’t go into the kitchen. Get under a desk or table. Hold on.

Have you been in an earthquake? Are you a planner too? Share your thoughts!