What could be less interesting than a health post by a blogger?
Oh! Oh! I can answer that. A health post by an old blogger!
However – spoiler alert – I can promise you that it’s not a depressing story. You will not be required to feel sorry for me.
What happened was, on Friday night I had a Sons of Norway meeting. Then I came home, noodled on the ‘net a while, and then got ready for bed. As I brushed my teeth, I noticed a pain in my chest, on the left-hand side.
Inevitably, I thought about heart attacks.
As I went to bed, reading a chapter of the Bible and “composing my limbs for rest” as the Victorians used to put it, the pain continued. A sort of dull, tight pain like a ball up against my ribs.
One thinks interesting thoughts at such times. Not only, is this a heart attack? But is this a serious heart attack? Suppose I went to the emergency room, and it turned out to be just some kind of indigestion I’ve never felt before. Is it worth the embarrassment? Would that be more embarrassing than finding myself unnecessarily dead?
At last I figured I’d given the pain sufficient time to fade naturally. “I won’t be sleeping tonight anyway,” I thought at last. “I might as well take a book and wait in the emergency room.”
So I did that. I know you’re not supposed to drive yourself to the ER in such circumstances. But I didn’t feel like I was going to lose consciousness, and the hospital is only about a mile away.
I drove into the parking ramp. There were plenty of spots not far from the door. As I wandered through the building, I met a tall man, a security guard, who said, “How you doin’?” I said that remained to be seen. He stopped and took the time to tell me about the importance of having a positive attitude. I thanked him, and said, “God bless you.”
I have to give North Memorial Hospital credit for their triage system. I walked to the desk and told the woman there that I thought I might be having a heart attack. Within five minutes I was in a room with a technician, who was giving me an EKG. Very soon I learned that my heart rhythm was perfectly normal. The rest of the night would be low pressure – but sloooow.
They took some blood and said I’d have to wait for the results. I asked if I could go home. The technician looked at me oddly – as if to say, “Do you actually think we’d let you just come in and go home again? You can’t skip the most important part of the process – vegetating in our waiting room.”
Fortunately, I had come prepared. I’d brought my Kindle – and I mean the Paperwhite, not the Fire. The Paperwhite has a much longer battery life, and I had a suspicion I’d be needing it.
And I did. Surrounded by an ever-changing cast of silent, patient sufferers, I alternately read and dozed until about 5:30 AM. I wondered, often, if they’d forgotten about me. But at last I got called to a room where they told me I was fine and could go home, after signing the necessary papers.
I suppose a man’s first heart attack scare counts as a milestone in his life. Like every other living fossil, I need to remind myself several times a day that I’m actually an old man. Not even middle-aged. Bona fide old. I believe I’ve outlived three of my four grandparents. I’m overdue, in fact, for a heart attack scare. If you’re lucky, it’s a false alarm. I lucked out. It’s all good.
My Saturday was pretty much shot at that point. I got a little sleep. I ate some food. I tried to do some translation work, but my brain was fuzzy and my eyes wouldn’t focus.
I’m better now. But I feel I’ve turned a corner.
Such moments in our lives cause mortals to pause and assess their lives.
What occurs to me offhand is that I’m way behind schedule for my midlife crisis. I’ll have to make it an end-of-life crisis.
But I definitely need a sports car and young girlfriend.