H is for Heart Attack

or…. in my case: hypochondriac.

And to think I asked myself just yesterday “ I wonder what tomorrow will bring?”. I’ll know not to tempt the universe again with this tonight.

The day started out pretty much the same…. I  woke  up with a bit of on pain in my left chest area and for the first part of the morning I really didn’t think much of it figuring  I shouldn’t have had that ice cream maybe, but as the morning wore on it started to hurt more when I took deep breaths and I thought is it a heart attack??

“Nyeah, can’t be” I said to myself but the the morning wore on and the pain in my chest wouldn’t go away. So I thought maybe I should get a professional opinion about this and but who to call? All my friends live in a different country, and the wife is away in another country too and I couldn’t find her online - so who can should I call?

I called my mother in law.

And off to the hospital I went. (after I boosted the battery because the car wouldn’t start)

A funny thing happens when you go to emergency and complain of chest pain. You go straight to the front of the line! No silly questions like how I spell my last name or date of birth or anything of the like. I was stuck on, plugged in and beeping within moments of arriving and wheeled right into the emergency room.

The rest of the day was a blur of needles and questions and more needles and more questions but I’ll point out some observations of my first big hospital visit in the USA:

It matters what hospital you go to here. They’re like restaurants -  some are better than others and when my heart’s on the line I’m going to the best.

It’s really hard to explain ‘it feels tight in my chest’. It’s not like a broken arm when you can say “Look! my arm’s broken!.

Warm blankets are the best.

When did the doctors become younger than me?

There’s room service in the rooms. You get a menu and you call an number and order your meal.

If you think you have a heart attack, what’s the last thing you think they would make you do? Run on a treadmill! I did that today. Had I known I would have worn better shoes and running shorts. I love how they test to see if you have a heart attack by seeing if they can make you have a heart attack on a treadmill. Somewhere in some medical school this makes sense.

 They fill you with radioactive stuff and scan you in some MRI machine. There’s a sign on the door that warns me not to cross the border or I will set off alarms at border crossings or airports. In short - I glow. Keep pets and small children away. Also, If you see a glow in the night sky, it could be me.

Need an X-RAY? They come to you!! No more trudging down the hall with your rear end swinging in the breeze to the x-ray room.  X-rays in the comfort of your own bed.

I never thought I’d be thankful for the facebook but it allowed me to communicate with my wife 5000 miles away and let her know I’m OK. Thank You Mark Zuckerberg. I read that my facebook account is worth 4 dollars a day to you - You earned it today.

That goop that’s on those electrical contacts they stick on you to plug you into the machines is a bugger to get off.

After they poke you, inject you, bleed you, exercise you and question you they will tell you you’re fine.and you will feel silly, and they will send you home.

(and then you will get to the car and have to boost it again. Then you can go home)

I know it seems that I complain a lot here about BW with my jokes and digs  and stories but there’s no better feeling than knowing that somebody cares about you when you’re sick. (or in my case, think I am)

Special thanks to BW, MIL, and others who expressed their concern about me today.

Now, quit reading this and go hug somebody you love.