Watching my heart

A quiet, nagging question always lingered in the back of my mind: Was that flutter just stress, or was I having a heart attack? I would feel a skip, a thud, or sometimes a rush. I would try to “listen” to my own chest. It struck anytime, anywhere: in the middle of a meeting or while stuck in traffic.

For a long time, the only way to answer that question was to wait. Either I waited for my next medical appointment, or I rushed to the hospital and hoped that by the time I got there, my heart was still “misbehaving” enough for a diagnostic machine to catch it. But the ECG always read normal.

You can imagine my anxiety every time it happened. With the accompanying shortness of breath, it would temporarily cripple me. I did not know what to do. I was feeling something, often mistaking it for symptoms of hypertension, when in fact my heart was out of rhythm, beating out of sync.

Things changed after I put on my Apple Watch, a gift from my wife, after my cardiologist noted its advantages for someone like me. It replaced a fitness watch that measured beats per minute but had no ECG (electrocardiogram) function.

Having lived with the Apple Watch for almost two years now, I can honestly share how it has helped change my life. No, this is not an advertorial. Apple had not part in writing this. My intent is simply to share how technology is helping me improve my healthcare, and perhaps encourage others to explore what might work for them.

To most people, a smartwatch is nothing more than a sleek gadget for fitness and notifications. It counts steps, tracks workouts, and lights up with messages and calls. But to those of us managing chronic conditions, it can be something else entirely. With mobile apps and built-in monitoring, my watch has evolved far beyond a fitness accessory. To me, it is the sentinel on my wrist watching my heart.

People with AFib (atrial fibrillation) tend to focus on the on-demand ECG app, and with good reason. But the device also has Irregular Rhythm Notifications (IRN). In the background, it checks my rhythm even when I am asleep, in a meeting, or distracted in traffic. Instead of a few snapshots at the doctor’s office each year, I now have a continuous stream of data about my heart rhythm.

As a management consultant, I often point out to clients how you cannot manage what you do not measure. For years, my AFib was unmeasurable at home. Episodes came and went without a trace. I felt them, but they remained undiagnosed until my first trip to the emergency room and confinement at telemetry more than two years ago. My cardiologist recommended the watch after my second confinement, and I have been hospital-free since.

Now, with the Vitals app, the watch gives me trends: sleep duration, resting heart rate, respiratory rate, and other indicators. Over time, those patterns help me spot triggers before they turn into full-blown episodes: poor sleep, high stress, too much caffeine, or a missed workout. I can review my numbers and see how my body reacts.

The technology did not cure me. However, I am no longer blind between clinic visits. Before the watch, living with undiagnosed AFib felt like walking in the dark. Every strange sensation was a potential emergency room visit. I was always guessing.

Now, when I feel a palpitation, I sit down, open the ECG app, rest my finger on the Digital Crown, and let it record for 30 seconds. The watch then tells me if the pattern is consistent with normal sinus rhythm or with AFib. Oh, and the watch tells time, too.

If it flags AFib, I know this is not just anxiety. It is data. If it shows sinus rhythm, I can take a breath, calm down, and see whether the feeling passes. I also detect premature atrial contractions (PACs), or skipped beats, which can feel like AFib but are usually fleeting and less serious.

The watch shifted me from vague fear to specific information and helped me deal with panic. I have not had unnecessary trips to the emergency room. I remind myself that the watch is a meter for rhythm; it does not detect heart attacks, blood clots, or strokes. It cannot replace a full 12-lead ECG or a proper physical examination.

It is a specialist tool for a specific rhythm problem. Used properly, within those limits, it has become an important diagnostic device, especially for AFib, which is usually elusive. In the past, my heart would have already settled back into normal rhythm by the time I reached the emergency room, leaving little for the ECG machine to catch.

The watch changed that dynamic, especially with telemedicine. Consultation now goes beyond the purely anecdotal. I bring not only a story but evidence as well. When I feel an episode, I run an ECG on the watch and generate a PDF of that waveform. This looks very much like the strip you see printed from a hospital machine.

I then send that PDF to my cardiologist through a messaging app. My doctor looks at it, presumably between patients, and replies within minutes. Sometimes the advice is as simple as rest and monitor. A few times, the instructions were to adjust medication. So far, I have not received orders to go to the ER.

The gap between home and hospital, between a symptom and a decision, has significantly contracted. While I live near a tertiary hospital, even a short drive in heavy traffic can feel like an eternity during an episode. I have made that trip twice before, in the pre-watch era, and I do not want to repeat it.

The watch helped turn random, sometimes scary episodes into something manageable. It gives my doctor more information and gives me guidance on what to do when my heart acts up. I also keep a historical record of all episodes, which helps in long-term monitoring and follow-up consultations.

Part of my confidence in this device comes from understanding what is happening to me and how the watch works, including its limitations. Just as important is the confidence that my cardiologist trusts the technology. She recommended the watch, after all.

But more important than the hardware, I have become a more active partner in my own care. When something feels off, I do not just sit and worry. I measure. I document. I share. I talk to my doctor armed with actual data instead of vague fear. I am no longer a passive patient waiting for tests and appointments.

The watch has become a medical safety net. It is a small, quiet device that stands guard when I sleep, walk, work, or drive in traffic. Now that I have learned to live with irregular heart rhythms, this electronic device on my wrist has given me the most valuable thing technology can offer: peace of mind.