Experiences
A Friday Night in June, 2016
12/07/16 13:33
A Friday Night in June, 2016
It was a Friday night. I had been feeling tightness in my chest for about two days. Didn’t think much of it, but it wasn’t getting better. So, to ease my mind, I cancelled my regular happy hour plans and decided at 7:30 pm to go to a nearby urgent care facility.
When I got there, I was attended to pretty quickly. They did a blood pressure check and it was really high – 170 over something. Way high for me. And they did an EKG. Their doctor said she thought she saw an irregularity in the EKG and recommended I take an ambulance to the hospital. Best not to take chances. So I said yes and a few minutes later I was on my way to St. Anthony’s in an ambulance with red lights spinning. They gave me nitroglycerine to reduce the tightness and I made a joke about it being an explosive. I don’t know why I feel compelled to tell jokes in situations like this. Calms me, I guess. Anyway, the nitroglycerine didn’t do anything.
I got to the emergency room and they started with an EKG and chest x-ray.
So the doctor came in and said my EKG was normal. My blood pressure was back down closer to what it should be. And he said it looked like pneumonia to him. But they wanted to admit me and do some more tests to be sure.
So I checked in. They gave me an IV with antibiotics for the pneumonia and did some blood tests. The next morning I got a stress test. It was the typical. Get on a treadmill to reach a target heart rate. It was the third time today I had those stickers attached to me they put the electrodes on. And once again I had a whole bunch of sticky things to rip off, taking chest hairs with them. The stickers have tenacity. I will give them that.
During the stress test, they did an ultrasound that recorded video of my heart. I could see the monitor. Seeing my own beating heart made it seem so vulnerable. Hard to look at.
But they didn’t find anything wrong so I went back to my room with the idea that I would be released pretty soon. But the doctor wanted to do one more test to make sure I didn’t have a clot in my lungs. A CT scan. I’m thinking overkill at this point, but did it any way.
I had mixed feelings about all these tests. Even if they don’t find anything wrong in my heart, it’s possible that they might inadvertently find something else just as horrible. So every time I got test results, it was pretty stressful.
So the CT scan was done, and I waited in my room for the results. Had lunch while I was waiting. I order chicken sandwich but they said I couldn’t have a Coke because I was a on a cardiac diet. I found this ironic.
The doctor came in and said he couldn’t find any pneumonia, and it looked to him like bronchitis. Probably viral, so no reason to take antibiotics.
I took a taxi home. It was raining very hard and the taxi’s windshield wipers stopped working. And I thought, “Great, I lived through this whole episode only to be killed in a cab on the way home.”
Some takeaways.
Pretty much along the way, all the people who treated me or conveyed my somewhere were professional and friendly.
I think most everything they did was partly due to the fear of getting into legal trouble. So they did every test that might cover their butt, even though they were probably not necessary.
On one level, I’m glad that they did all the tests. Everything was OK, for now at least, but I suspect I will get a pretty big bill for that reassurance.
So that was a Friday night in June. Pain, stress, boredom, humor and limited television viewing choices. I think I’ll make different plans for next Friday. Not that anything in life comes out as planned.
It was a Friday night. I had been feeling tightness in my chest for about two days. Didn’t think much of it, but it wasn’t getting better. So, to ease my mind, I cancelled my regular happy hour plans and decided at 7:30 pm to go to a nearby urgent care facility.
When I got there, I was attended to pretty quickly. They did a blood pressure check and it was really high – 170 over something. Way high for me. And they did an EKG. Their doctor said she thought she saw an irregularity in the EKG and recommended I take an ambulance to the hospital. Best not to take chances. So I said yes and a few minutes later I was on my way to St. Anthony’s in an ambulance with red lights spinning. They gave me nitroglycerine to reduce the tightness and I made a joke about it being an explosive. I don’t know why I feel compelled to tell jokes in situations like this. Calms me, I guess. Anyway, the nitroglycerine didn’t do anything.
I got to the emergency room and they started with an EKG and chest x-ray.
So the doctor came in and said my EKG was normal. My blood pressure was back down closer to what it should be. And he said it looked like pneumonia to him. But they wanted to admit me and do some more tests to be sure.
So I checked in. They gave me an IV with antibiotics for the pneumonia and did some blood tests. The next morning I got a stress test. It was the typical. Get on a treadmill to reach a target heart rate. It was the third time today I had those stickers attached to me they put the electrodes on. And once again I had a whole bunch of sticky things to rip off, taking chest hairs with them. The stickers have tenacity. I will give them that.
During the stress test, they did an ultrasound that recorded video of my heart. I could see the monitor. Seeing my own beating heart made it seem so vulnerable. Hard to look at.
But they didn’t find anything wrong so I went back to my room with the idea that I would be released pretty soon. But the doctor wanted to do one more test to make sure I didn’t have a clot in my lungs. A CT scan. I’m thinking overkill at this point, but did it any way.
I had mixed feelings about all these tests. Even if they don’t find anything wrong in my heart, it’s possible that they might inadvertently find something else just as horrible. So every time I got test results, it was pretty stressful.
So the CT scan was done, and I waited in my room for the results. Had lunch while I was waiting. I order chicken sandwich but they said I couldn’t have a Coke because I was a on a cardiac diet. I found this ironic.
The doctor came in and said he couldn’t find any pneumonia, and it looked to him like bronchitis. Probably viral, so no reason to take antibiotics.
I took a taxi home. It was raining very hard and the taxi’s windshield wipers stopped working. And I thought, “Great, I lived through this whole episode only to be killed in a cab on the way home.”
Some takeaways.
Pretty much along the way, all the people who treated me or conveyed my somewhere were professional and friendly.
I think most everything they did was partly due to the fear of getting into legal trouble. So they did every test that might cover their butt, even though they were probably not necessary.
On one level, I’m glad that they did all the tests. Everything was OK, for now at least, but I suspect I will get a pretty big bill for that reassurance.
So that was a Friday night in June. Pain, stress, boredom, humor and limited television viewing choices. I think I’ll make different plans for next Friday. Not that anything in life comes out as planned.