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If you go to the doctor with chest pain, wear nice undies. Seriously. See, I've been having a persistent achy pain under my left-side ribs for about a week. Thought it was stress. Spring Break started, stress receded, got lots of sleep...still had chest pain. Went to internist on Tuesday. The doctor, who was not my regluar internist, was puzzled. She couldn't tell if it was my heart or not, and her little doctor book told her that forty-something women who've had exotic heart doozuses implanted in them should be sent to the ER if they have chest pain. So, off I go, thinking that the ER docs will do some tests, then send me home. Nine hours and a whole novel later, I'm still there. I've had two chest x-rays, a chest CT scan, two EKGs, and a bunch of blood work. I've got two IVs and a bunch of needle sticks from other stuff, which will all become huge bruises later, since I'm still on blood thinners. I've had my little card showing the septal occluder info out so often, I've just got it permanently clutched in my hand. On the brighter side, the medical professionals were all fascinated with the details of my procedure. I also got to feel sorry for the other folks there, Perpetual Barf Boy, Incessantly Whimpering Child, Seizure Girl, and Hacking Cough Smoker Lady. By the time I actually saw a doctor, I was hungry, sore, and, well, pissed. He wanted to admit me for MORE TESTS. He'd called all three of my cardiologists, my neurologist, and my PCP's service, and everyone wanted more tests, plus overnight monitoring. By the time I actually got to a room, it was nine o'clock. I was exhausted, and glowering. The Samurai was ragged from running around getting stuff I needed. At least my room was really nice. Unfortunately, people kept waking me up all night. I think I refused to cooperate with the third blood sample lady at four thirty. I might have scared her. I think I snarled. I don't really remember. Anyhow, it took them until four yesterday, after a stress test with echocardiogram, to conclude that my heart is fine, and they don't know what is causing the chest pain. The gals in echo were delighted to see my cute little Amplatzer device (almost healed over now, yay!) and enjoyed asking me where I got my pretty bra. We had fun talking about shopping. I am now home, did not slay any medical personnel or cram medical devices into their orifices (although I did threaten one with a TEE transponder up his, ahem, if he didn't back off), and feel as if I've been stuck in a sack full of tennis balls and thrown in a cement mixer. Sore, tired, cranky. NOW I get to do taxes. I've lost two days of Spring Break, and none of the fun projects have even been started. Damn. Casey is glad to have Ear Scratch Woman home. He's guarding me, to be sure I'm not thrown back in the hospital. Good doggie! Off to crunch numbers. On de Headbone Radio:Microorganism. Just finished reading: Dead Until Dark, Charlaine Harris: Anne Rice meets Truman Capote. Good stuff! |
 
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Hospital, dammit!