I had an appointment with a heart specialist today. I was surprised that my primary sent me over. I never knew I had a heart. I'm sure that a few of my exes will back me up on that last statement . . .
Thursday
Actually, it started a couple of weeks ago when I got a new primary care provider. She insisted on a routine exam done in her office. Okay, it was free, no big thing. So, we do the test and I come back in a week later for the results: I have COPD (knew that coming in), cholesterol is a bit high (knew that too), and there appears to be a strange "blip" in my heart beat. Okay, so that's something new. Never had any doctor at any time in my life ever say a thing about problems with my heart. But again no biggie. She sets me up with a trip to a heart specialist.
The place I go to hook-up with the heart doctor is in this big sci-fi looking building. Lots of doors inside and a lot of "old folks" in, I'm thinking, because of heart stuff. "Robert Woods?" "Yeah, that's me."
The nurse looks like a Nurse Ratchet type but she's nice enough to me so I don't tell her that. She asks a lot of question about getting dizzy, feeling tired and I keep saying, "yeah" and it dawns on me that this might actually be serious. It spooked me a bit. So, to calm my growing concern, I asked the nurse, "How'd you get into the heart business?" She smiled like a girl remembering her first kiss, "You know, I was assisting this open heart surgery for the first time, and there was this big, beautiful heart inside this man's open chest (I think she almost cried here), well, I fell in love and wound up here with the best heart surgeon ever." With that confession she left the room, left me there thinking I just heard the most beautiful story ever . . . or one of the creepiest stories . . . ever!
Another nurse came in and asked pretty much the same questions. This one was definitely Nurse Ratchet. Every attempt I made to "lighten" the situation was met with a stone-faced, professional grimace.
Ratchet: You drink coffee?
Me: Yeah, lots of coffee.
Ratchet: Hmmm, five cups a day?
Me: Oh, more like two pots a day.
Ratchet: Holy CRAP! That's a lot of coffee!
Ratchet leaves telling me that the doctor is doing a surgery and he'll come see me when he's done. I refrain from say, "Make sure he washes his hands." Not sure Ratchet would appreciate the humor.
Then the doctor comes in, a little guy with some kind of foreign accent, and pretty much says the same things I had just told to two different nurses . . . and saying them as if he had come up with the answers all by himself. And then he sets me up for some sort of test on the 29th and . . . out the door he sped.
It wasn't till David drove me home and I got into the apartment that I realized that . . . there might be something seriously wrong with me. I know, it's too early to worry about it . . . but once the seed is planted the thoughts start growing on their own. What if I'm deathly ill? What if I have to have some kind of heart surgery (I then broke into a daydream about nurse #1 standing over my open chest and smiling at my beautiful, old heart--), How would I pay for a heart transplant? Well, I woke up this morning with the thought of my mortality weighing heavily on my mind and wrote this on Facebook:
Thursday
Actually, it started a couple of weeks ago when I got a new primary care provider. She insisted on a routine exam done in her office. Okay, it was free, no big thing. So, we do the test and I come back in a week later for the results: I have COPD (knew that coming in), cholesterol is a bit high (knew that too), and there appears to be a strange "blip" in my heart beat. Okay, so that's something new. Never had any doctor at any time in my life ever say a thing about problems with my heart. But again no biggie. She sets me up with a trip to a heart specialist.
The place I go to hook-up with the heart doctor is in this big sci-fi looking building. Lots of doors inside and a lot of "old folks" in, I'm thinking, because of heart stuff. "Robert Woods?" "Yeah, that's me." The nurse looks like a Nurse Ratchet type but she's nice enough to me so I don't tell her that. She asks a lot of question about getting dizzy, feeling tired and I keep saying, "yeah" and it dawns on me that this might actually be serious. It spooked me a bit. So, to calm my growing concern, I asked the nurse, "How'd you get into the heart business?" She smiled like a girl remembering her first kiss, "You know, I was assisting this open heart surgery for the first time, and there was this big, beautiful heart inside this man's open chest (I think she almost cried here), well, I fell in love and wound up here with the best heart surgeon ever." With that confession she left the room, left me there thinking I just heard the most beautiful story ever . . . or one of the creepiest stories . . . ever!
Another nurse came in and asked pretty much the same questions. This one was definitely Nurse Ratchet. Every attempt I made to "lighten" the situation was met with a stone-faced, professional grimace.
Ratchet: You drink coffee?
Me: Yeah, lots of coffee.
Ratchet: Hmmm, five cups a day?
Me: Oh, more like two pots a day.
Ratchet: Holy CRAP! That's a lot of coffee!
Ratchet leaves telling me that the doctor is doing a surgery and he'll come see me when he's done. I refrain from say, "Make sure he washes his hands." Not sure Ratchet would appreciate the humor.
Then the doctor comes in, a little guy with some kind of foreign accent, and pretty much says the same things I had just told to two different nurses . . . and saying them as if he had come up with the answers all by himself. And then he sets me up for some sort of test on the 29th and . . . out the door he sped.
It wasn't till David drove me home and I got into the apartment that I realized that . . . there might be something seriously wrong with me. I know, it's too early to worry about it . . . but once the seed is planted the thoughts start growing on their own. What if I'm deathly ill? What if I have to have some kind of heart surgery (I then broke into a daydream about nurse #1 standing over my open chest and smiling at my beautiful, old heart--), How would I pay for a heart transplant? Well, I woke up this morning with the thought of my mortality weighing heavily on my mind and wrote this on Facebook:
Okay, so here's the plan:
1. get up every morning and bike ride for a half hour.
2. Eat breakfast.
3. Cut back on coffee intake.
4. Eat better.
5. Start writing that damn book of poetry . . . damn it.
6. Make more friends.
7. Be kinder to the friends I already have.
8. Find out who my enemies are: send them Christmas and B-day cards.
9. Keep reading science books so IF I ever get the chance to debate Neil deGrasse Tyson I can kick his ass.
10. Keep working towards "spiritual enlightenment."
1. get up every morning and bike ride for a half hour.
2. Eat breakfast.
3. Cut back on coffee intake.
4. Eat better.
5. Start writing that damn book of poetry . . . damn it.
6. Make more friends.
7. Be kinder to the friends I already have.
8. Find out who my enemies are: send them Christmas and B-day cards.
9. Keep reading science books so IF I ever get the chance to debate Neil deGrasse Tyson I can kick his ass.
10. Keep working towards "spiritual enlightenment."
That should cover what time I have left on this plane of existence.
Saturday, December 13, 2014
So, yesterday I had to go back o the doctor's for ultrasound, and or the first time in my life I had the chance to see my heart! Well, okay, a ultrasound simulation of my heart, but still my heart. The image wasn't as sharp as the techy would have liked, years of smoking had scared my lungs so much that a fine, smog like film covered the view, but he said it would work . . . okay.
It turned out to be a very long day for me and David. After the doctor appointment (David had one too for the cold he can't seem to shake off), we both went home to prepare for ART WALK. I admit I did doze off a bit, but never actually fell asleep! I don't want to leap all day and wind-up staying up all night anymore. I want to join the living who wake at six AM and get out the door to do . . . something by eight! Okay, not quite there yet but getting closer.
Sunday, December 14, 2014
Friday night Art Walk. A bit of mild winter breeze forcing people into winter coats, stocking caps and gloves; a fine mist of fog clinging to the stoplights, an the mild glare of the passing cars' low beams, makes Main St. look more like Hogsmeade than Norman Town, Oklahoma.
David and me got a chance to finally meet Kathy's husband, Chris, who's just the most remarkable guy. He's a independent "art" musician who has lived a big chunk of his life in New York City. How's he taking to living in Norman Town? Pretty well, I'd say. Being introduced to Norman Town on 2nd Friday Art Walk really shows off our small towns artistic side. He seems to like it.
There was so much going on, on this Main St. Friday night. People were everywhere on the streets, laughing joking, greeting everyone with a friendly "Hi!" a wonderfully happy night. I'm guessing the Norman Arts Council decided to celebrate Christmas early because Santa and Frosty was out in force on the streets and in the shops.
The whole night reminded my why I'm so in love with this "little" town. It also reminds me why I grimace when I see home changing, becoming more "corporate" and less the "Mom & Pop" oriented businesses I remember back in the 70s and 80s. But that's the way life is, it continues to change and we adapt those changes to meet our needs as a community.
Anyway, a very fun night, and this is the last post for this 2nd week in December. I hope my few readers will hang in with me as I try in the weeks left to capture the feel of Norman Town during Christmas time.
Saturday, December 13, 2014
It turned out to be a very long day for me and David. After the doctor appointment (David had one too for the cold he can't seem to shake off), we both went home to prepare for ART WALK. I admit I did doze off a bit, but never actually fell asleep! I don't want to leap all day and wind-up staying up all night anymore. I want to join the living who wake at six AM and get out the door to do . . . something by eight! Okay, not quite there yet but getting closer.
Sunday, December 14, 2014
David and me got a chance to finally meet Kathy's husband, Chris, who's just the most remarkable guy. He's a independent "art" musician who has lived a big chunk of his life in New York City. How's he taking to living in Norman Town? Pretty well, I'd say. Being introduced to Norman Town on 2nd Friday Art Walk really shows off our small towns artistic side. He seems to like it.
There was so much going on, on this Main St. Friday night. People were everywhere on the streets, laughing joking, greeting everyone with a friendly "Hi!" a wonderfully happy night. I'm guessing the Norman Arts Council decided to celebrate Christmas early because Santa and Frosty was out in force on the streets and in the shops.
The whole night reminded my why I'm so in love with this "little" town. It also reminds me why I grimace when I see home changing, becoming more "corporate" and less the "Mom & Pop" oriented businesses I remember back in the 70s and 80s. But that's the way life is, it continues to change and we adapt those changes to meet our needs as a community.
Anyway, a very fun night, and this is the last post for this 2nd week in December. I hope my few readers will hang in with me as I try in the weeks left to capture the feel of Norman Town during Christmas time.
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