Dateline Dayton — Every day a person learns he has a health problem, and some are much more serious than others. During the past two weeks, I haven’t been feeling up to par, and I have been undergoing tests.
Six months ago I complained to my doctor at my semi-annual visit that I didn’t feel right. At times, I experienced chest pain. He checked me out, did an EKG and said everything appeared to be fine. No real reason for why I didn’t feel myself, although he did remind me I was pushing 70.
A week ago Tuesday, it was time for my next visit, and again I complained about the same issues. Once again he checked me out.
“I don’t believe you have a heart problem, but if it would make you feel better, I will schedule you for a stress test,” he said.
“You are in charge,” I told him.
Who Is in Command?
My doctor said, and this is important, “You must play a key role in your healthcare. If a stress test will make you feel better, I’ll schedule one.” It would make me feel better, so one was planned.
It also was time for my prostrate exam and blood work. He took care of the exam and scheduled the blood work.
Since the blood work required fasting, I determined that Friday morning would be a good time. He suggested I get it out of the way prior to the stress test and I figured that probably would be next week at the earliest. The hospital called and told me the test was scheduled for Monday morning at 7:30.
The lab opens at 7:30, so I arrived by 7:20 only to find myself No. 4. I guess old folks like to get their tests out of the way early so they can get to their coffee group at the local restaurants.
Normally there’s a guy at the lab and he does a great job drawing blood. However, this time there was a young girl. Although better to look at, I’m now sporting a nice black and blue mark where the blood was drawn. All the blood test results came back very good, and my blood pressure, taken at the doctor’s office, was excellent.
On Monday morning I made my way to the hospital, only a few blocks from my home. I had a previous stress test, but that one was almost thirty years ago. It did not require me to be injected with some kind of foreign substance that might make me glow in the dark or worse. Sean assured me there would be no side effects from the substance he was injecting into my body.
After the injection came the wait – you must wait one hour before they can take pictures, the next step in the stress test process. The chairs are very uncomfortable, I didn’t have my glasses and there was no television.
It was a long hour. Sean did bring some ice water and asked if there was anything else I needed.
Shortly after the hour was up, it was picture time, calling for you to lie still for fifteen minutes while this camera traveled over your chest.
Don’t Forget My Snack
After the picture-taking was completed, it was onto the treadmill. After completing the paperwork and signing away all rights should I croak while having the test, it was time for another substance to be injected.
Before I could get on the treadmill, I had to be evaluated by a doctor to be certain I was capable of doing this part of the test. After receiving his blessing, I guess, as he said nothing to me, it was onto the machine. I was on the treadmill for seven and a half minutes, which Sara said was very good.
After getting off and having all the wiring removed, I made myself somewhat presentable again.
But still another picture was to be taken. Before that, however, I had to eat. Since there was only a limited amount of time, Sara, the treadmill nurse, brought me a turkey sandwich and a bottle of water. After eating, it was back to the table for another fifteen minutes of picture taking.
In all, things went well. What they told me would take five hours, only took four, and I was able to return to work for the balance of the day.
Next week, the results.
Mr. Hennessey may be contacted at pmhenn@sbcglobal.net
