The Heart Of The Matter

Like all things in a healthy happy marriage, it started with a suggestion from my wife. "You need to start getting physicals so you won't die", is what I think she said. It was a while ago, after I had turned forty. I didn't argue because I believe the key to any healthy happy marriage is for a husband to obey his wife.


As with most men, I had studiously avoided the doctor for years. It seemed every time I went to the doctor I heard things like "I'm sure you've heard about the grapefruit sized scrotums".  Um, no, I hadn't heard about any organ being measured by any citrus fruit, much less that one.


So, I started going to the doctor for my annual physical. Along with hypertension, high cholesterol, and a really, really, really personal non-life threating medical condition, my doctor found I had an irregular EKG. He asked all of the standard questions about chest pains, shortness of breath and fatigue. I had none of those symptoms. He said we would watch it.


Every year, I would have my physical. Every year he mention my irregular EKG. Chest pains, shortness of breath, yadda, yadda. Nope. I feel fine.


Then one year he wants to refer me for a Cardiac Stress Test. I tell him that I feel fine. He still wants me to go. So I went for my Cardiac Stress Test.


I thought I passed the Cardiac Stress Test with flying colors. However, I got a call from the doctor's office. The test showed signs of Ischemia. Ischemia is not something you want to hear because it can cause you to walk and talk with Jesus. It is the most common cause of death in Western nations. From there, I was referred to a cardiologist.


It is important to note: I felt fine.


I went to see the cardiologist. He asked about chest pains. Nope. Shortness of breath? Nope. Fatigued? Nope. Tingling? Only when my wife wears her Friday Night Sexy Shirt. Exercise? Yes, I exercise at least five days a week.


While he was talking to me, he was looking at my chart. He said, "I don't know. The stress test shows Ischemia. It is right 75% of the time. I'm going to have to do a Cardiac Catheterization". He told me not to exercise "strenuously" because he didn't want me to have an heart attack.


It is important to note: I felt fine.


I went home and did what I usually do when I am confronted with something serious. I started thinking about my own mortality and how unfair it was to be dying of something that didn't even make me feel bad. I remembered my primary care physican saying I had a "wonk wonk wonk wonk" (sometimes I hear the adult from the Charlie Brown cartoons when I don't understand something) that probably caused the irregular EKG. It sounded serious when he told me about it five years earlier. So serious I couldn't even remember what I had. There I was dying from something I didn't even know what it was called. I had images of the coroner standing over the late me and telling his assistants "This man had the worse case of wonk wonk wonk wonk I have ever seen".

While researching Cardiac Catheterizations on the internet, I ran across many articles that were difficult to read mainly because they were written by smart people for smart people.  However, one article said that patients with a "Right Bundle Branch Block" can cause false positives for Ischemia 25% of the time. Although it sounds serious, particularly due to the word "block", it is an electrical defect of the heart and does not decrease life expectancy. It is good to use for getting out of things you don't want to do. "Oh, I would love to help you dig that ditch, but my Right Bundle Branch Block has been acting up again." That's when I remembered that "wonk wonk wonk wonk" was Right Bundle Branch Block. That gave me a 25% chance of not having Ischemia.


Only Could Happen to Alan

The Mayo Clinic describes a Cardiac catheterization as "A long thin tube..inserted in an artery or vein in your groin, neck or arm and threaded..to your heart". Guess where my catheter was inserted?


That's right; it was inserted south of the border. However, before the insertion, that area had to be "prepped", which is medical jargon for "shaved".  This is where the story turns into the alley way of "This could only happen to Alan".


I went into a little room. A nurse told me to remove all my clothing, put on a hospital gown and lie in bed. She handed me a "privacy cloth" that I should place over what clinicians call "Private Parts". She turned around to give me some privacy. She asked if I was covered. I said I was and with that she pulled out industrial sized clippers that they must use to shear sheep when they're not prepping for Heart catheterizations.


She started the prepping and probably in order to help me relax, we started to have a nice little conversation. However, soon we were talking about Tiger Woods and his escapades (this was 2009). Let's just say that she did not take Tiger's side in this incident and I became acutely aware of a woman, with clippers, near the private parts. She stopped for a moment to call for assistance.


In walked the most beautiful woman I have ever seen and I went to Wheeler High School in the 70's.  This nurse was Beyond Hot. The nurse with the clippers said "Help me with this" and pointed to the private parts (Yes, that's what she said.)


I need to emphasize that I am crazy in love with my wife and have been faithful to her and our vows during the 27 years of our marriage. However, I started thinking about something that is inappropriate to think about especially when you just have on a privacy cloth. I tried my best to NOT to think about this beautiful nurse.


I really didn't need to worry because whatever lustful, lascivious thought I had was soon replaced by pain because the IV Nurse came in. She taped something on my arm and said "You'll feel a little bee sting". The "bee sting" felt like it was from a bee as big as a horse. It didn't work. "You have small veins." She tried again. Another bee sting from a horse sized bee. She announced she was going to try the other arm. Same thing happened.


Here's the scene: One nurse is mad about Tiger Woods and men in general is shaving me with industrial sized clippers. The pretty nurse is making sure I don't become another statistic. The IV nurse is killing me with bee stings. In walks  The Nurse In Charge of Getting Information. She has one of those comical Southern accents.


It is here I need to remind you of the correct pronunciation of my name: "MAY-nis". It is not "MAN-is" although that's the way it is spelled. To save time, I answer to both pronunciations. This nurse ignored these two pronunciations and came up with her own: "Maine-Ass". Over the buzz of the clippers and the poking of the IV nurse, I hear "ARE YEW ALAN MAINE-ASS?" "Yes". NOW MASTER MAINE-ASS, YEW GONNA HAVE A CARDIAC CATHETERIZATION?"  "Yes".


She asks me a lot of questions. "CHAST PAINS?"  "No." "DAZZINESS?"  "No" FATIGUE,YEW KNOW, FEELIN' TARED?" "No". "NOW WHAY ARE YOU...OH MAH GAH! YOUR BLOOD PRESSURE HAS SPAKED TO OVER 160!"  It was then I made a comment about the clippers and private parts. It made everyone laugh. I was serious.


Through some sort of medical miracle (they left the room) my blood pressure returned to normal. My wife was brought into the room and asked why all of the nurses were laughing. I told her about the pretty nurse because I didn't want that hanging over my head. As usual, my wife was more than understanding about the situation and attributed it to my nerves. She told me that she (the nurse- not my wife) sees hundreds of private parts a day and that mine was just another one. That was supposed to make me feel better.


I finally made it to the Cardiac Cath  Lab and it was cold as ice. I see my doctor washing his hands. A nurse gave me the sedation and asked me if I liked Harry Connick, Jr. The doctor begins the procedure. It seems like it takes minutes. He pronounces me "clear". No Ischemia, just the Right Bundle Branch Block. No need to come in for another appointment. He told me to take Fish Oil pills. Even if I had Ischemia, he would have put in a stent and I would have been fine.


My family was overjoyed. I could go back to living without the fear of dying from something that didn't make me feel bad. It was as close as I've ever come to walking through the Valley of Death until I started taking the Fish Oil pills. Those things will kill you.