Don't Break My Heart...My Icky, Sticky Heart...
It's been about 6 weeks since my "episode" and yes, I just "air-quoted" the word "episode", because I've had all the tests done to me, since the "episode", and I'm WAY MORE comfortable telling you about my "episode", because hypertensive heart disease sounds so...you know...icky.
I mean, not as icky as a sticky heart valve...like the one I got, too...but I've been assured that it is more common than I thought...and who knew...there's a bunch of us walking around with one or more sticky heart valves...[fist bump]...ain't midlife grand, YO!
So, I've got a new cardiologist. I mean, he's new to me, but he's also very old and I realize that I'm not young, either (thanks for noticing, BRAT!) however, I am younger than he is, so, there ya' go.
[blank stare]
Where was I? Ummmmmm...oh yeah!...my husband, Garth (not his real name) was nice enough to drive me to see my new, but very old, cardiologist and accompany me into the office...you know...for moral support...and tissues...oh and cough drops...my throat closes up when I get nervous (that's what SHE said!) and because CARDIOLOGIST!!!!
"Mrs. Thompson?"
I jumped up out of my chair and managed to scare the bees juice out of the rest of the people waiting their turn to see my new, but very old, cardiologist. I also happened to be the youngest one in the room and I'm guessing they just weren't very used to such quick movement...heh...and my inner-twelve-year-old tends to crack very bad jokes, when I'm nervous.
"Who is your primary physician?"
[blink-blink]
"I don't have one."
[blank stare]
"Well, I'm pretty healthy...normally...but...you know...except for this one time...I mean."
[blank stare]
"And if I'm really sick, I take myself to the walk-in-emergency-type-care-place down the corner and see whoever happens to be on duty."
[blank stare]
"So I'm pretty open to recommendations!"
This was getting awkward, you guys.
[blank stare]
Blank stares are like non-verbal scoldings.
[sound of crickets, chirping]
Moving along...so, I sat down...because non-verbal scoldings are awful, and the rest of the people in the waiting room sort of just stared at me...or maybe they were sleeping with their eyes open...either way...doesn't matter.
[blank stare]
"Mrs. Thompson?"
Oh man, now what?
"We need to take your weight."
Yeah, the woman hates me.
"OH BOY, MY FAVORITE PART!!!"
Although, THAT made her giggle. So, I walked over to the scale and...well...I hate scales...especially, these type of scales...you know...the ones where you have to move the weights and they keep sliding...and sliding...and...DAYUM!!!... is she ever going to stop sliding?!?!
"Eleventy-thousand pounds."
[eyes go wide]
Now, mind you, I've made peace with my squishy size 12 body...a long time ago...but DAYUM!!!
"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?"
She clicked her tongue (or maybe it was her teeth, doesn't matter) and then she nodded her head.
"Are you sure that thing is working right?"
She assured me the scale was working just fine, but because I seemed a little distraught (i.e. acting like the biggest baby, EVER!), she had me step on the scale one more time and started sliding...and sliding...oh, wait...it stopped about 20 pounds short of DAYUM!!!
"Correction, you're eleventy-nine-hundred-and-eighty-pounds."
So I hugged her, this time the woman actually broke out into a full-blown grin and I'm pretty sure those were her real teeth, too.
"You almost gave me a heart attack!!!"
[eyes go wide]
"Figuratively speaking, I mean."
[sound of a roomful of senior citizens, snoring]
Long story short: My new, but very old, cardiologist is actually very nice AND he laughs at my really bad jokes, so we now have a standing date...every six months...which means I've got plenty of time to work on some new material...YO!
[blank stare]
Stupid blood pressure, dumbass sticky heart valve.