White Lightning Axiom: Redux

Last night I had my scheduled visit with the family doctor. Nothing much, just to have them kick the tires and check the engine. That, and a few other minor things. The onus was on me to reestablish contact with my neurologist since I have switched health care insurance. Paperwork, gotta love it. This time, however, everything is electronic and I'll have to take the word of the Front Desk Harpies that the referral actually got done. I arrived on time for may appointment and found that there were about 10 other people there waiting. I had brought a book along in preparation for an extended wait. Much to my surprise, I was called in after reading but a few sentences. Hmmm, the Mrs must have sprinkled some magic 'Quick Appointment' dust on me to ensure a prompt return to the manor. The RN escorted me to a waiting room and asked a few questions about the nature of my visit. She listened intently while chomping away on a wad of gum she was nurturing. I had a few complaints, but one stopped her in mid chaw. She instructed me to remove my shirt and then darted out of the room. Before I could remove my KMart Bluelight Special flannel shirt, she had returned with a cart loaded with a device. It looked like some sort of monitoring equipment (its a medical clinic, isn't it all about monitoring?) and she quickly informed me that it was an EKG. I had complained about recurrent chest pains and trivial breathing problems over the last few months. I think this set off the 'Cardiac Disease' alarm and they acted promptly. In moment, there were dozen of little patches peppering my torso with leads trailing off to the EKG device. I was instructed to not move or talk or the EKG phantasm will spring forth and flay me of my skin. There were some beeps and whirring sounds and then the final sound of ripping paper. That was it. She removed the leads and let me remove the patches. I usually choose the 'quick-rip' over the 'excruciatingly slow rending' method of removing adhesive from my epidermis. Fortunate for me, these were not all that firmly attached. Funny thing, I missed one patch on my rib cage under my arm and did not find it till hours later after I had gone to bed. After she was finished spooling up the cables, she let me know that I could put my clothing back on and that Pam (our doctor) would be in shortly. Of course, I knew that shortly in my mind was something entirely different that what she was thinking. I button up my shirt and sit down to read some more from 'Atlas Shrugged' that I had the presence of mind to bring with me. It helped me maintain some semblance of sanity as the minutes ticked by. Soon enough, Pam stopped in and we started talking about the nature of my visit. Upon considering the nature of my complaints in regards to the chest pain and the snappy little printout of my EKG, she proclaims that acid reflux is the most likely suspect. This, is derived from the symptoms, the season (yeah, Thanksgiving+Christmas+New Years = GLUTTONY) and some personal experiences that are akin to mine. Then, out of the blue, she launches into a very technical and in depth monologue on HDL and LDL and other cardiovascular dogma. I understood about 75% of it. She was so enthused about it so I didn't have the heart to stop her and ask for the lay-mans explanation. In the process, she let me know that it would be a good idea that I have some cholesterol tests done even if heart disease is not a family trait. While discussing this, she brought up some interesting euphemisms about heart attack victims. Sayings such as 'people with more than 48 hours of chest pain don't usually wake up'. Heh, she has a pretty good sense of humor. Towards the end of the visit, she harassed me about getting some exercise. The lifestyle I have right now does not provide an opportunity rich environment for this. I do not profess to be a paragon of physical fitness or a specimen of unrivaled health, but I'm not in that bad of shape. Am I? The Chewing RN came in, gave me a tetanus shot and then unshackled me so I could be on my way.

I got back to the Manor by 1915 and spent some time with the family. After bath and bed for the little ones, I settled into the kitchen and cobbled together some bohemian goulash. This should provide meals for the horde over the next few days. I used some of my home made sauce to thin out the can of Manwich so the Mrs would not get heartburn quite so much. I'm awfully sensitive to that these days, go figure. The following morning started a bit late, but went as usual. Since I didn't take anything for the flu symptoms, I woke with my lungs filled with cruft and phlegm. Spent a few hours hacking that up. Nice. Sound like an old geezer with consumption. Traffic was mildly annoying till I to the North Gulph and First Ave intersection beyond the KOP exit. Looks like a couple of people believed they had the right of way and neither wanted to chicken out. The police had just arrived and an ambulance was pulling up. I thought this was particularly overkill since the damage I could see on the cars was limited to a broken headlight assembly and a dented fender. Someone is going to get sued for a large sum.. Absurd. Tort reform ... now please. On an up note, Pyotr Il'yich Tchaikovsky's Marche Slave was playing on WRTI at the time. Love that piece. I think I'll pick it up at Amazon.

# posted by mdmhvonpa @ 9:41 AM