Day 976: Reflections

Here’s my first reflection of this post:

What we reflect out into the world — and what we see reflected back at us — is a reflection of our inner, sometimes hidden reflections.

Here’s my second reflection of this post:

That’s a lot of reflection, so early in the morning.

Yesterday morning, after I had reflected some morning reflections in my 975th consecutive daily-reflections blog post, I saw this reflected in my iPhone:

That reflects how much construction is going on around here.

At my office, we reflected about the reflections of anger, and how internal reflections of anger can be distorted:

After four hours of therapeutic reflections at work, I had these reflections:

• It was my co-worker Mary’s last day before her retirement (which will give  her precious and deserved time to relax and reflect) and — despite both of us previously reflecting that we wanted to meet for some goodbye reflections — I had to leave work at noon, without her image reflecting in my eyes. My sadness about Mary’s leaving reflects her kindness and her beautiful nature.
• I was about to see myself reflected, in a medical sort of way, for four hours of pacemaker/defibrillator tests, echocardiograms, and reflections with my cardiologist, Dr. Deeb Salem, who has been reflecting with me since 1980 about how to reflect the best treatment towards my strangely reflecting heart.
• Since birth, I’ve often reflected about  how to reflect on that strangely reflecting heart of mine, which reflects blood back to my body through very unusual pathways.
• Since November 2014, many different Boston cardiologists have reflected back mixed, contradictory, and sometimes dire reflections about my prognosis, which reflects how rare and confusing my reflecting heart is.
• Perhaps those mixed medical reflections have been reflected in some of my daily blog posts, since then.
• Four months ago, after much reflection, my team at Tufts Medical Center and I decided on a cardiac procedure that would reflect the least amount of harm onto my strangely reflecting heart and which might extend my years of reflection on this amazingly reflecting earth.

Since what we notice reflects our inner reflections, I reflected these reflecting images onto my iPhone after I left work yesterday and went to my medical appointments, sometimes lost in reflection:

Finally, at 3:30 PM — after reflecting with pacemaker experts and technologists and students in the echocardiography lab (not pictured) — I was reflecting, with my wonderfully reflecting cardiologist, Dr. Deeb Salem, upon my strangely reflecting heart. These afternoon reflections included the worries and hopes we’ve reflected together during our mutually reflecting medical partnership for over 35 reflection-filled years. The focus of those reflections  reflected the uncertainties of the last year. I also reflected with Dr. Salem some fear that how difficult it is for me to climb steps and hills might reflect poorly on my heart (although it might just reflect my age, the need for more exercise, and/or how strangely my backwards-reflecting heart operates).

As Dr. Salem and I reflected together, our tones probably reflected the fact that we were waiting for the echocardiography lab to reflect back some important findings, including:

• my strangely reflecting ventricle’s ejection fraction, which would reflect whether I was heading toward heart failure and
• how much my strangely located and reflecting  tricuspid valve was leaking.

At this point in this reflecting blog post, I could include many more reflections reflecting all the topics Dr. Salem and I reflected upon yesterday, but I’m reflecting that you probably want the reflections from the echo lab, as soon as possible.  There’s no reason why your wait to find out those reflecting results should reflect the time Dr. Salem and I waited together.  Therefore …

I think those facial expressions reflect the happiness reflected in the room when the echocardiogram reflected that

1. My ejection fraction is no worse and maybe a little bit BETTER, reflecting no dreaded downward trend in the functioning of my strangely reflecting heart and
2. My leaky valve is reflecting blood just the way it has for years, reflecting stability.

Dr. Salem’s reflection to me: “If these numbers stay like this, you should be around for a while. ”

Pretty good reflections, right?

After much reflection on what music to include in this reflection-filled post,  I choose to reflect my love and esteem for my co-worker Mary, like so:

Take 6 (singing “Mary”) reflects THE best a capella singing I have ever heard, in my 62 years of reflection in this world.

If you express your reflections on this post, I shall reflect back a reply, after due reflection.

Reflections of gratitude towards Dr. Deeb Salem, Mary, Take 6, everybody else whose reflections helped me write this post, and you — of course! — for all your reflections, here and now.