I
shared with you a week ago that my lung specialist ordered a three
tests: a 2D echo-cardiogram and a full
pulmonary function test on Tuesday and a dypsnea
stress test on Thursday of this week.
The PFT was an hour-long torture
test. The ECG was interesting. I laid on the gurney propped against pillows
alongside the railing and watched my heart on the monitor. The technician manipulated the image this way
and that. He changed the screen from graphs
with heartbeats displayed on the monitor to black and white to color
alternately.
At one point he asked, “Did you
feel that?” I answered, “No. Why?”
He said your heart is skipping a
beat. These are known as PVCs (premature
ventricular contractions). Then he
quickly added that this information would be passed on to my lung specialist.
Today I had the stress test on
the treadmill. The technician attached a
bazillion electrodes to me, a blood pressure cuff and some sort of belt around
my waist with a gizmo that was measuring something. My lung specialist showed up after I was all
hooked up and I stepped on the treadmill.
Holy shit! The treadmill was level for about 30 seconds
and then began to incline upward. I
tried so hard to walk but had to demand the technician stop it. My heart rate was up but I was terribly short
of breath.
The doctor said he’d never seen
anyone so stressed so quickly. He told
me he wanted me to see a cardiologist as soon as possible. Okay, I thought. I went home and was getting ready to jump
back into my PJs for a little power nap when the phone rang.
It was my doctor’s office calling
to tell me I had an appointment at 1:45 PM with the cardiologist he had discussed
with me.
I arrived early for my appointment. I signed in and my butt had barely settled
into the waiting room chair when my name was called.
I was lead into an examination
room and instructed by the nurse to slip into a gown and she would be back to
administer an EKG.
Again with the electrodes and the
wires and the monitor and the taking of the blood pressure.
Upon finishing with the EKG, she
instructed me to have a seat and the doctor would be right with me. I waited 46 minutes.
When she entered the room she
asked me what brought me there. After
waiting 46 minutes in a paper gown in a freezing exam room, I was hardly
cordial. I tried to rein in my ire. I gave a brief history of my health
complaints and she said would phone my lung specialist. “Just wait here,” she said.
I expected another long wait and hunkered
down in the chair after putting my clothes back on and putting on my jacket to
thaw out. No more than 3 minutes passed
when she reentered the room. She said
that they agreed that I needed to have a heart catheterization done.
She informed me that if they
found a blockage or blockages that they would perform a balloon angioplasty and
install a stent to eliminate them OR perform
bypass surgery if necessary.
I was told that I should prepare
to stay in the hospital overnight and was given instructions on how to prepare
for the procedure that will happen next Wednesday at 6:30 AM.
I’m a little anxious about having
this done, but if it will help me feel better and avoid having a heart attack
then I am ready to go through with it.
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