The Cardiologist

When it comes to my overall health, like how healthy am I, I would say I’m okay. I’ve made no excuses for having not taken my health seriously for the past couple of years. Covid didn’t help, but I have put on twenty pounds over the past four years. The weight isn’t really the issue, it’s the fact that I stopped making my health a priority. Since last year, I have been making a more concerted effort. Though I mess up often, I still try to improve things, and I’m at it again.

Part of my motivation to get back in a healthy place is my daughter, and wife. Not only do I want to be alive with them as along as possible, but I also want to set a healthy example for the kid. The other part is that when my older brother was my age, he had a stint put in after he noticed some pain in his jaw while working out. He immediately saw his doctor, and ended up getting that stint as he had a serious blockage in an artery. Then a few months later, the same thing happened to my father; working out, then jaw pain, but he ended up having a bypass. All of this was almost ten years ago, but I learned the lesson- pay attention to the warning signs.

You see where I’m going here – I got jaw pain. This was about two weeks ago, and I was sitting on the couch, so my thought wasn’t heart attack, but that I needed to see the dentist. Then it went away, and would come back, and go away again. But the pain never showed up when I would work out. I again chalked it up to a dental problem.

Then this weekend, we were taking our Christmas decoration boxes to storage, which meant I was running up and down the stairs in our walk up building, and I just couldn’t catch my breath. I knew I had let myself go a little, so being out of breath was expected, but I felt that I could catch up. And then I got a little jaw pain.

It did pass, but I’m not stupid. I told my wife what was happening and made an appointment to see the cardiologist. I would see him Monday afternoon.

And that started the long wait until I saw the doctor. I’m a high functioning neurotic person, so that was like one of the worse things that could happen to me. Luckily, the kid was off of school for MLK Day, so she distracted me. But in the back of my head, that thought of being told that I was moments from death, that I needed surgery NOW! was clearly fighting to get in the driver’s seat of my conciseness. It wasn’t that I thought I was going to die, but more like something would be found that would change everything.

But I went, nervous as I was. I have a feeling that the cardiologist’s office sees a great number of middle aged men that are too nervous at being there. I kept trying to remind myself that everything that would happen, would all be things that would help me start to feel better. I said that to myself as I lay on the table, staring up at the ceiling as the technician ran a cardiogram on me. I was listening to hear if the technician made any sound that would signify that they saw something negative and detrimental from the results. I bet they all take a class about how not to have a tell in front of patients, because the tech gave nothing away.

When the doctor came in, he asked me for my story. I tried to keep it to the point, just facts no flourishes; jaw pain a few weeks ago and thought it was a tooth ache, did a physical task of running up and down stairs which caused jaw pain and shortness of breath, brother and father had jaw pain which lead to the discovery of their heart issues, out of an abundance of caution and the family history I am here to make sure there are no issues with me. He asked me follow up questions, but I got a feeling that he didn’t believe that I had a heart issue. Now, he did tell me I did the right thing to come in and check it out, and he wanted me to get an echocardiogram, which he would send that technician in to do next.

And I waited. I did bring a book, so I didn’t waste the time, but still, I waited for awhile. Then a new technician came in to tell me that they were still waiting for approval from my insurance to get the echocardiogram. I didn’t ask this, but my first thought was what if the insurance company says no to the test? It made me rather annoyed, as why does the insurance company get to decide what I need rather than me or my doctor, but that’s an angry blog for another day. When the tech returned, she had said excitedly, “You’re Approved!” which was nice to hear, but still left me feeling like I was at the mercy of a corporation.

When the test was being run, and the wand was placed on my heart, I again tried to gage off the technician if she was seeing something awful. Just like the last technician, they had a good poker face. Then the doctor popped in. He leaned over the tech’s shoulder looking at the screen and said, “Everything looks okay. We’ll schedule you for a stress test, and I’ll talk to you then.” and he was gone. The echocardiogram went on for like another fifteen minutes, but in essence I was done.

That was it. “Everything looks okay.” I took to mean that I wasn’t dying, and that there didn’t look like anything was killing me. My health was okay.

Right? That was the correct way to interpret that. Because if something looked bad in my results, they would have said something. I’m not crazy for thinking that, right?

So, I went home. Had a glass of wine with the wife, ordered noodles, ate with the family, and watched the Cowboys defeat the Bucs while texting with friends. Just going back to living my life like normal. I’ll go to the gym, like normal. Shop for groceries, like normal. Just live normal. I need to go see the dentist, right?

I guess I’m okay, and this is what being in your forties is like. Something hurts, I think it’s life threatening, I see a doctor, and I go back to normal.

Huh…