We settled on “Jarvis” for the heart rate monitor’s nickname, in honor of the computer that talks to Tony Stark in the Iron Man movies. So far, Jarvis is doing great. Whenever I exercise, Jarvis gets worried and dutifully records my heart rate, then takes it on itself to phone his true masters and tattle that I scared him. The experts then look over the recording and say, “Oh, yeah, whatever.”
(I’m assured that if they find something dangerous, they’ll phone me, and Jarvis will feel smug. Until then, I’m highly motivated to keep frightening him.)
Jarvis attaches by two electrodes on my chest, connected with a black wire about two feet long. I thread the wire below my shirt and clip Jarvis to my belt or stick him in my back pocket. I joke that I’m wearing a wire. At night, I clip him on the back of my pajama pants and walk around like Taylor Swift in concert. You’re already familiar with my fashion sense (read: nada) so I’m having fun.
Sunday: time to take Jarvis to church. I pulled off my pajama shirt and pulled my dress over my head, and then went to take off the pajama pants.
My Patient Husband came into the bedroom to find me standing there, confused. I said, “I can’t wear a dress.”
There’s no way to thread that wire out of the dress, one piece from a high neck all the way to the hem. I can’t bring the wire up and out the top of the neck. Jarvis could be worn under the dress on a lanyard, but it’s twice as big as an iPhone and you would see it under the dress.
Kiddo2 said, “You could wear a belt around your waist under the dress and clip it to that.”
Or maybe I could strap it to my thigh, like Elektra Assassin with a gun under her skirt. Yeah. That would be awesome.
Um, no. Take two. Skirt and blouse.
Fail number two: even I, the fashion-sense-crippled, know blouses need to be tucked into skirts. I almost made it work this time, clipping Jarvis to the skirt and then threading the wire out the front where the blouse buttons, but it was still obvious I was wired up to the thing, and when I moved, the cable tugged at the blouse.
Take three was to wear a sweater on top and a skirt on the bottom, and that worked. The sweater even comes down over Jarvis so strangers don’t think I’m on the verge of taking God’s final call right there during Mass.
It’s like the opposite of “We can dress you up but can’t take you anywhere.” Jarvis can go anywhere. He just can’t get dressed up.