Thoughtful story of my Heart
I am certainly no beauty. I weigh 340 grams, am red-brown in color and have an unimpressive shape. I am the dedicated slave of human body. I am human's heart.
I hang my ligaments in the center of his chest I am about 15 centimeters long and, at my widest point, 10 centimeters across - more pear-shaped than valentine. Whatever you may have heard about me from poets, I am really not a very romantic character. I am just a hardworking four-chambered pump - actually two pumps, one to move blood to the lungs, the other to push it out into the body. Every day, I would say, I pump blood through 90, 000 kilometers of blood vessels. That is enough pumping to fill a 15,100-litre tank car.
When Joe thinks of me at all, he thinks of me as fragile and delicate. Delicate! When so far in his life I have pumped more than 300,000 tons of blood I work twice as hard as the leg muscles of a dash runner, or the arm muscles of a heavyweight boxing champ. Let them try to go at my pace and they would turn to jelly in minutes. No muscles in the body are as strong as I am-except those of a woman's uterus as she expels a baby. But uterine muscles do not keep at it day and night for 70 years, as I am expected to do.
That, of course, is a slight exaggeration. I do rest between beats. It takes about three 10th of a second for my big left ventricle to contract and push blood out into the body. Then I have a rest period of half a second. Also, while human sleeps, a large percentage of his capillaries are inactive; this means that I do not have to push blood through them, and my beat slows from a normal 72 down to 55.
I am certainly no beauty. I weigh 340 grams, am red-brown in color and have an unimpressive shape. I am the dedicated slave of human body. I am human's heart.
I hang my ligaments in the center of his chest I am about 15 centimeters long and, at my widest point, 10 centimeters across - more pear-shaped than valentine. Whatever you may have heard about me from poets, I am really not a very romantic character. I am just a hardworking four-chambered pump - actually two pumps, one to move blood to the lungs, the other to push it out into the body. Every day, I would say, I pump blood through 90, 000 kilometers of blood vessels. That is enough pumping to fill a 15,100-litre tank car.
When Joe thinks of me at all, he thinks of me as fragile and delicate. Delicate! When so far in his life I have pumped more than 300,000 tons of blood I work twice as hard as the leg muscles of a dash runner, or the arm muscles of a heavyweight boxing champ. Let them try to go at my pace and they would turn to jelly in minutes. No muscles in the body are as strong as I am-except those of a woman's uterus as she expels a baby. But uterine muscles do not keep at it day and night for 70 years, as I am expected to do.
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