Well, this past Saturday morning, like Alice, I tumbled down the
rabbit hole. Chest pains, sweats and such. Doc said go to the ER. Off
I went. Tests at local hospital didn't show anything conclusive, but
the hospitalist told me I should stay in the hospital until Monday
morning and then do a stress test. Come Monday morning I did the new
and improved nuclear medicine stress test, and apparently passed with
flying colors. Proud to say, I went the distance, nothing obvious
showed up, and the doc said I had the exercise capacity of a health 60-
year-old man. WoooHooo!
However (you knew that was coming, didn't you).
The stress test results are sent to cardiology at Maine Med in
Portland, which apparently is one of the country's top heart
hospitals. The hospitalist showed up in my room to tell me they "found
something" that appeared to be an occlusion in the lower quadrant of
the heart. The cardiologist's best guess was a 70 percent chance of
blockage. Most of you know what that means: cardiac catheterization.
That damned rabbit hole got deep quickly. Before dark I was in an
ambulance headed for Maine Med.
Cardiac unit, Maine Med. Cardiologist came around to talk about the
procedure, scheduled for noon Tuesday. He said based on his reading he
was not really expecting to find anything. Turns out stress tests are
highly reliable if they're normal, but not so much if they are
abnormal. Too much stuff in the body to occlude the images. So,
despite having a roommate from Hell (too long a story to tell here), I
survived until Tuesday. Note they didn't let me eat anything from
supper Monday night at Miles until a very late lunch on Tuesday at
Maine Med.
The procedure was a breeze. Very cool. Some of you may already have
had it done. I was fully conscious. While I was still on the table,
the cardiologist stuck his head around the camera and told me he hoped
his own heart looked as good. So they cut me loose after making me lie
on my back for four hours. Right after the procedure, a nurse had to
apply pressure to the entry site (the groin) for about twenty minutes.
Hard pressure. I told her I hoped they were paying her a lot of money.
I couldn't tell whether the camera they used was an Olympus.
So now I'm back in place, with orders to take it easy for a few days.
That shouldn't be hard.
--Bob Whitmire
www.bobwhitmire.com
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