ER..

You miss a couple of weeks and the world changes. Blogspot had a problem, so I couldn't write the blog. Several things happened that I wanted to write about, but I was unable to, then lost interest. For whatever reason I didn't visit Facebook either, mostly due to just being in a funk. But below are a few hospital observations.

Spent the best part of the day in the ER a couple of weeks ago with Atrial Fibrillation. Never happened before, probably won't happen again. But now I am "in the system" The cardiologists are all over me. You have to understand that in the last 57 years the only hospital stays for me have been one event in childhood where they removed my tonsils. The other was 15 years ago when I had a virus that mimicked heart problems. The second event was more fun because they introduced me to morphine. Now there is a drug! You may still feel bad, but YOU DON'T CARE!

Here are my observations about ER from the perspective of a 57 year old guy with grey hair:
When you walk in complaining of chest pains, they move you to front of the line. No taking a number. She called an orderly to come get me and move me to a room right next to the nurse's station. Customer service in the medical industry is never at a higher level than in this singular instance.
Secondly, there is a fascination with my name and birth date. Every single person asked these two questions: What is your name? What is your birth date? After the fourth one, I wanted to tell them, "Write this down, share it with all your friends, Stop asking me!" I'm stuck here with an IV, pressure cup, heart monitor, and sticky electrodes from the EKG. Somewhere someone has my name and birth date. I considered giving them a false name or making up a birth date, but I was afraid it would delay my release.
Third, when the ER doc asked me when all this started, my bride was sitting in the room trying to control her panic and dealing with my kids, who were all calling and texting, it occurred to me that I had not mentioned to her that it probably started about midnight the night before. Particularly since we worked out at our usual 4:30AM, and I only then mentioned that I did not feel well. She was not going to be happy that this was the first time hearing it. So my quandary is this: Do I lie to the doc? or tell the truth and catch a LOT of mischief from my bride...hmmm. Reluctantly I told the truth, saw the lovely jaw set,knew that any heart condition was the least of my worries.
Fourth, I have a theory about hospitals. If you keep your clothes on, including shoes, they have to let you go home. Right? So kept my jeans on, my workout shoes, lost my shirt when they did the EKG, but kept all else intact. My youngest kept asking how I could be comfortable in jeans on a hospital bed. Comfort is not the issue, escape is the primary focus.
Finally, at the end of the day, after two IVs, sitting strapped to all kinds of monitoring equipment, I needed to hit the restroom. I called the nurse, they were working on my discharge papers. 20 minutes later still no nurse. My youngest went to track her down, the nurse was on her way. 10 minutes later when she showed up, she started unhooking all the paraphernalia then became transfixed by the story on the TV about the little boy found dead in Maine by his N. Texas mother. The nurse literally stopped moving and stared at the TV with her hands at her side. Meanwhile, I am squirming like a little boy on a long car ride. Get me unhooked or go get a mop! Like a dog let out of a kennel, as soon as the last constraint was removed I bolted for the john. Whew, it was close.

6PM headed home. Starving. We stopped and got me a loaded baked potato. Heaven.

A-fib is uncomfortable, but imminently manageable. What disheartened me about the entire day was the emotional harm on my bride. She handled it like the combat veteran she is, but it twisted my heart to realize I had caused this trauma. As we were going out the door at the house she put her fingers to her lips,as if trying to stifle a scream. Guilt washed over me like never before. Oh we have taken chunks out of each other in our 36 years together, but to harm is always a trauma for me. How could I say I was sorry for something I couldn't control? Emotions are funny things, they just show up, unbidden and unwanted. They are what they are. This is probably the only lasting damage done, to scare her with the unknown, the uncontrolled.

Anyway, the heart is fine. A lot of people out there probably are glad to realize I have one. Wore a monitor for 24 hours, tracking my heart rate, etc. I tried to get my bride to participate in a little action, just to see if we could set the thing off, a firm "no". Stress test next week. As if our lives alone aren't stress enough.

Godspeed, the journey is rejoined. The heart is good, I hope, not in the physical sense, but the integrity sense.
Don