Monday, December 14, 2009

Pre-procedure Jitters

My father's father died of a stroke in his eighties. My father's brother died of a heart attack in his forties. My father, in his mid seventies, recently underwent an angiogram where a blockage was discovered, removed, and a stent implanted. He, thankfully, is doing well and is under medical care so he can stay that way.

Several months ago I underwent a routine stress test. Routine, that is, until abnormal readings showed up. My primary physician, who is also a cardiac specialist, recommended I undergo an angiogram to see if there was anything going on in my heart that may be cause for concern. Before agreeing to this procedure I sought the opinion of two other cardiac specialists. Both said the same thing my doctor test results were not critical and may turn out to be nothing at all but they also recommended an angiogram. Given the cardiac history on my father's side, this sounds like good advice.

I am scheduled to undergo the procedure later this morning. It is a relatively simple procedure that should take less than half an hour to perform and will require me to lie perfectly still for several hours afterwards to prevent any bleeding at the entry site. I witnessed my father successfully undergo this procedure and emerge as good if not better than new. And my doctor performs angiograms on a routine basis so I'm in good hands. But I'm scared. Scared to death. Scared to take this test and even more scared not to. Moreover I haven't told anyone about my trepidations so I'm carrying this alone. I specifically didn't tell my parents about this. I didn't want to worry them. Worse than that, I didn't want to have my mother twittering about, calling me up constantly to see how I'm doing, giving me endless advice, trying to be very helpful but annoying me to no end in the process. That would have stressed me out even more. No, better to keep this to myself. Only my husband, children and sister know about the angiogram but even they don't know I'm scared. Better that way.

It is now 2 AM. I won't be going to sleep tonight, preferring to stay up until it's time for me to go. I will leave at 4:30 AM to travel to the hospital by mass transit. During normal business hours this trip might take an hour or an hour and a quarter at best. At this unholy hour, when even the birds are still asleep and the trains are running at a snail's pace, I expect a much longer travel time. My husband will come to pick me up after my recovery period and bring me home where I fully intend to lay in bed and do a whole lot of nothing. At least that's the plan. Let's see how this all plays out.

To be continued...

Ballo ergo sum,
- Gitana, the Creative Diva

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