Stress Test

Getting the machines ready for my stress test

Yesterday morning I went through three hours of a very unpleasant experience.  It is called a stress test.  Seems I have an extra heartbeat.  Well, you all know I have a big heart.  

The last time I had a stress test was two years ago.  This is the followup.  Man, that two years went by fast.

So here is what is involved in a stress test.  It's a bit more (I would say) than walking on that whatever you call it (which I never liked anyway).  

First thing is they stick a needle in a good vein so they can put an IV in your arm.  They need to inject you with a fluid that appears on the X-ray camera (not sure if it actually is an X-ray).  

These last four years I've had more needles stuck into me than the rest of my life combined.  Next week - flu shot!

Then you wait.  And wait.  This is an assembly line process, I was second in line at 8:15 AM yesterday morning.

Then I'm led to the apparatus where you lay down and a humongous camera taking machine descends upon my body.  It is in two parts.  

Left arm above my heard, right arm on arm rest to be injected.  Then DON'T MOVE for TWELVE minutes.  Of course I can breath but DON'T MOVE or else they have to start the whole procedure over again.  And I'm telling you, you DON'T want to have to go through this procedure any more than necessary.  If you have any hint of claustrophobia, you DO NOT want to go through this test. The machine takes pictures at different angles of my chest of this fluid going through my system.

I endure.

It's over and I go and sit down again only to be called to take the (and I can't think of the name) stress test that you all think is the stress test. Getting on that contraption that they speed up.

See how happy I am?

The assistant asks me to lift my shirt (oh, showing my flabby body again, I don't care these days, my glory days are over).  She puts these sticky tags on me that are hooked up to the machine.  Yes, when she pulls them off later some of my gray chest hairs go with them.  I told her "I didn't need those chest hairs anyway." 

I'm hooked up and she asks me to "step up" to the contraption.  She turns it on.  I'm taking baby steps.  She says "Take longer strides, and slower."  Oh, you want the Butch Walk.  Okey dokey, I can do that (I've had LOTS of practice).  

She turns on the machine. Slow at first.  This isn't so bad but I know this won't last.  And it didn't.  She speeds it up.  She asks "Feeling any pain?" My first thought (which I don't say) is "Lady, I feel pain from the moment I get up in the morning.  My body aches all over.  I'm 72 years old and I've taken quite a beating, especially the last few years."   But I let the Professional Ron swing into action and I say "I'm alright . . . . for now."

She speeds up the contraption.  Now I'm starting to huff and puff like the Flabby Old Guy that I am.  "Feeling anything?"  she asks.  "Oh yeah" I answer.  "Feeling a tightness in the chest?"  She asks.  "Yes" I answer.  She speeds it up.

Now I'm working.  I'm huffing and puffing like the wolf that tried to blow down the brick house of the Third Pig.

She continues to monitor the screen and look at me, making sure I don't collapse right there and create an uncomfortable scene on that placid Friday morning.  

I say "That's it."  I'm thinking I better stay alive because right before I went into the Cardiovascular office, I got a text message from my co-worker asking me if I could work for her last night because she wasn't feeling well. So much for me relaxing weekend, stress free after this test so I could tend to my hive outbreak.

I'm needed.

I'm wanted.

I'm depended on.

I get off the contraption (still can't think of the name, is this the first signs of my dementia)?

Up with my shirt again so she can rip off those attachments to my no longer six pack ab, 72 year old hairy chest.  Chest hairs ripped out, never feels good.  

The doctor comes in.  Asks when I had the test before.  She looks at my chart and says "Oh, I remember you."  Well, I am unforgettable to SOME people.  She looks at my chart again and says "Has your doctor talked to you about catheterization."  Uh well . . . . NO.  And he's not going to either.  Sure, my family has a history of heart problems (one younger brother on his second pacemaker and the other has an aneurism as well as my late father).  NO.  

No open heart surgery for this one.  Sure, I get pooped out faster these days.  I don't have the energy that I used to have.  You won't see me playing racquet ball . . . . EVER.  But am I going to go down that medical treadmill?  NO.

Looking at my chart she did say "Well, your chart is exactly the same as it was two years ago."  

Ah ha.  Now I remembered what my cardiologist told me two years ago.  He said one of my lower ventricle valves wasn't opening properly and the extra heartbeat was my heart trying to compensate for that anomaly.  He said this situation was fairly common in someone AS OLD (there we go again with the "YOUR AGE" qualification thing) as you.  He said "After all, your heart has been beating non-stop since 1941, eventually it starts slowing down."  Tell me about it.  So I'm like an old car.  Sure, I am.  Well, I've kept this old car in pretty good shape with only a few lapses (I did smoke for about seven years).  But eventually, no matter how good you take care of the car chassis, it goes.  I'm on the downward slide folks.  

At that time two years ago my cardiologist suggest that we "monitor" my heart since I didn't want to take more drastic measures like OPERATING ON THAT VALVE.  Folks, I would rather die in my sleep of a heart attack than go through another major medical procedure.  I'm not saying never, but I just don't think it is necessary at this time.  Not going there folks,  I'm just not going there.

I got all unhooked and I was burst out the door to my waiting Bill in our car at quarter to noon.  He had been sitting there (he never goes into the waiting room) since I drove up at ten of eight.  LONG DAY.

Drove home, had lunch, took a nap and I was into work at the hotel.  A Friday night crowd.  Busy, of course but all nice folks and some very interesting folks.  That's what I like about my job.  

The red spots of hives on my leg and thighs were in full bloom after yesterday morning's stess test and now another full eight hours of hotel front desk work.  

A Day In the Life of Ron folks. It's all good.  I'm still ticking and taking a licking.  Especially when I got home and I saw a card Bill got from his nephew's children telling him that Bill's 54 year old nephew died suddenly.  We all have a Date of Departure folks.  Nobody gets out alive.  All we can hope for is that we're able to love and be loved the short time we're here on terra firma. Now if you'll excuse me, I have some shopping to do at Food Lion. 

Treadmill . . . . I just thought of the contraption's name.  Actually "treadmill" is a good metaphor for life.  Aren't we all on a treadmill?  For some of us it goes slow and others pretty fast.  Right now mine is just about right . . . for now anyway.

Heart Tests Update

A very good day today!  Remember those heart tests I took a few weeks ago?  This morning I saw my cardiologist and went over the results.  The good news is that he found nothing seriously wrong with my heart.

He said that the extra beat was still there and on the lower ventricle of my heart it was pumping a bit slower but that was to be expected for a "man my age."  There goes that "man your age."  Well, I WILL BE 71 years old in a couple weeks.

He advised me that no other tests were necessary.  However, he did say that if I "wanted to know for sure" that I could have a heart catheterization.  Uh.....no thanks.  This procedure requires my doctor snaking an cord like instrument up through my groin to my heart to make sure all is clear and there is no blockage in my veins.  Uh.....no thanks.  Not unless I have chest pains, shortness of breath, etc.  No thanks.

I have a followup appointment in January.  We'll monitor this situation.  Just like I'm monitoring my PSA count.  All part of getting older folks.  Fun times.  But I'm still here and I'm making every day count.  In fact next week I'm on vacation!

Echocardiogram Test

This morning I took my first of a series of tests to seek the cause of my irregular heartbeat.

Today's test was an echocardiogram.

Table ready for Ron

I was almost late for my appointment!  I couldn't find the location where I was scheduled to take my test this morning at 9:30 am.  There are so many medical offices here in Lewes and Rehoboth Beach, after a while they all look alike.  After stopping in the wrong office, I finally found the right office.  Of course my heart was racing when I went into the office.  I hate to be late for appointments.  I usually like to arrive at my appointments at least a half an hour before the appointment.  I got there this morning with fifteen minutes to spare.

My echocardiogram monitor

They took me right away and ushered me into a side room with the requisite table (? - what do you call that bed thingy that you lie on when you go into medical offices)?  The medical assistant asked me to remove all my clothing from the top and lie on the meat rack table.  Thank goodness the room was warm.

I took off my shirt and t-shirt and bared my flab (I don't care at this time of my life) and reclined on the table.  I was ready.

The Old Guy ready for his echocardiogram

The lady came in (I forget her name) and placed all the electrodes on my chest.  Thank goodness they were  not cold.  Nothing like cold electrodes on my old, flabby torso to stimulate me in the morning.

After the test started I heard this "chuck, chuck, slap" sound.  I asked her "Is that me?"  She said "That's your valve."  WOW!  That motor (my heart) has been going on for the past seventy years?  WOW!  I have to tell you I was VERY IMPRESSED.

We take so much for granted.  At least I do.  I couldn't stop thinking about how impressive the sound of my heart pumping blood was.  WOW!

I asked her if everything was working all right.  She said "The doctor will tell you." Well, I don't know what that means.  Hopefully this is routine.

After I finished and wiped all the grease off of my chest I said "goodbye" to one and all in the office.

Next up, an appointment next week for a Halter Monitor.  That is a contraption that I'll have to wear for 24 hours to monitor my heartbeat.

Fun times.

A Salad a Day Keeps the Doctor Away

A few years ago I ran into an old classmate of mine from high school. We were both in the vegetable section of Wegmans supermarket. He was shopping for salad ingredients for his new health diet to combat heart disease. While I've never been one for salads I thought I would give it a try too. When I grew up Mom didn't make salads for our dinner table. We usually had overcooked green string beans or corn on the cob. That was about it. The only salads I had were when I dined out and that was a hit or miss experience. Once in a great while I got a salad I liked. Not very often though.

So I took my friend's advice and got some salad ingredients for myself. Well, I have to say I am now hooked. I liked my salads the best. I have basically two types of salads. Either a Caesar Salad of Romaine lettuce, sprinkled with Parmesan cheese and a Caesar Vinaigrette salad dressing. I can't take the heavy fat laden salad dressings. I sprinkle Caesar croutons on top of the salad. My other favorite salad is "Ron's Salad." This salad consists of torn Romaine lettuce leaves, cucumber, sliced white or red onion, and those little round red tomatoes (not cherry or plum but the "other" ones) that are so expensive (but so worth it.) I sprinkle a little salad seasoning on it and Italian croutons. I use a sun dried red tomato Italian vinaigrette dressing on this salad. These salads hit the spot with me. I know they're right because my stomach welcomes them. With other salads, especially ones made with iceberg lettuce, I feel like I ate nothing but salad dressing.

I used to buy prepackaged Romaine salads but I now find it more economical to but one of those three packs of Romaine lettuce and prepare my own greens. I occasionally like to buy the Spring Mix and have it with a Raspberry Walnut vinaigrette. I don't like salad dressings with the heavy calories. I feel it takes away from the taste of the fresh greens and tomatoes. Salad dressing should be accompany, not dominate a salad.

I have been remiss in my blog postings. I try to make a daily blog posting but there is just so much going on in this retiree's life, sometimes I just don't have the time. One thing I always have time for though is a good salad and I make a damn good salad!