{"id":16323,"date":"2020-01-01T09:00:12","date_gmt":"2020-01-01T14:00:12","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/sasee.wpenginepowered.com\/?p=16323"},"modified":"2024-03-26T15:08:46","modified_gmt":"2024-03-26T19:08:46","slug":"a-real-pain","status":"publish","type":"essay","link":"https:\/\/sasee.com\/ro\/essay\/a-real-pain\/","title":{"rendered":"A Real Pain?"},"content":{"rendered":"

I was bleeding from razor nicks, my man\u2019s chest looked like a baby\u2019s bottom,\u00a0I instantly began to itch, and she was sorry. Not nearly as sorry as I was.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n\n\n

I thought I was indestructible, invincible, invulnerable, a real superman \u2013 until the chest pains started. In my youth, I would have written it off as growing pains. Ten years ago it might have been a little too much tennis. Five years ago? A pulled muscle or gas, but as I grow older, I have a whole new outlook. Chest pains? I must be having a heart attack!<\/p>\n

I wasn\u2019t sure if it was my body or my imagination that was\u00a0adding the\u00a0numbness down my arm. Then I realized it was my right arm that was numb, not my left, and that may have been because I had been resting on it for a\u00a0half hour, but I was taking no chances. I dropped into a pharmacy that was doing a blood pressure screening.<\/p>\n

Greeted by a cheerful nurse,\u00a0she said, \u201cGood morning. How are we feeling today?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know how WE are feeling today, but I\u2019m having chest pains!\u201d<\/p>\n

She instantly slapped a blood pressure gizmo around my arm and began pumping the thing up. Her eye brows rose as she stared at the gauge. \u201cOh, boy,\u201d she sighed.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, boy? What does that mean?\u201d I nervously stuttered.<\/p>\n

She gave me an\u00a0unsettling smile. \u201cYou\u2019ll be fine. Just fine. Don\u2019t move. Do not move. I have the number of a great cardiologist. Just relax.\u201d Just relax? Was she kidding?<\/p>\n

Now, when I was a boy I learned a great lesson about doctors. My dad hated to go to the doctor. He came home one night from work bent over in such pain, he could barely move. Against his protestations,\u00a0my mother made an appointment and ushered him over, him screaming\u00a0all the way, reassuring her he was fine. After a quick examination, the doctor sent him straight to the hospital with a strangulated hernia that needed to be operated on immediately. He almost died. It taught me not to fool around.<\/p>\n

I saw a doctor the next day who scheduled a stress test for me. When I arrived at the hospital I was given a handful of papers to sign. The first gave my consent to do the test. Okay, I signed. The second allowed the transfer of results to my primary physician. Okay, I signed. The third absolved the hospital of any responsibility in the event that I had a heart attack while taking the test. Okay, I…heart attack during the test? Wait a minute. Just…wait a minute. \u201cExcuse me, but what exactly does this mean?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhich part?\u201d the nurse asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhich part? The heart attack part,\u201d I gasped.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh that.\u201d She shrugged. \u201cIt\u2019s just a formality. Hardly anyone ever has one.\u201d She smiled. \u201cAnd if you do, you are\u00a0in a hospital.\u201d<\/p>\n

And that\u2019s supposed to be a bonus? I thought. As far as I was concerned, the only difference between a coronary out on the street and one in the hospital was the three minute ambulance ride. I signed the paper. Don\u2019t ask me why.<\/p>\n

I was asked to remove my shirt. As soon as\u00a0the nurse looked at my chest she began to apologize. \u201cI\u2019m sorry but we\u2019re going to have to take off a bit of body hair so that the electrodes will stick.\u201d With that she began to shave handfuls of hair from my chest and stomach with a dry razor. Every stroke was accompanied by a string of apologies. \u201cSorry but…this is really…oops. Sorry. I\u2019m not hurting you…sorry…am I? Just a little…sorry, sorry…more. Almost done…sorry… just a bit…sorry…more. There we are. So sorry.\u201d I was bleeding from razor nicks, my man\u2019s chest looked like a baby\u2019s bottom,\u00a0I instantly began to itch, and she was sorry. Not nearly as sorry as I was.<\/p>\n

Electrodes were attached to my body,\u00a0connected to a machine with a web of wires, and I was eased onto a treadmill. \u201cWalk normally,\u201d I was instructed. \u201cIf you don\u2019t walk in a normal pace you can fall. Steady yourself with the bar in front of you, but don\u2019t pull on the bar. You can strain your back and fall. Don\u2019t look at your feet. You can get dizzy and fall.\u201d All that and the possibility of having a heart attack.<\/p>\n

\u201cIs there anything I can do on this thing that won\u2019t hurt me?\u201d I joked.<\/p>\n

\u201cJust walk normally,\u201d the nurse repeated without a trace of a smile.<\/p>\n

The treadmill started up, and I began to walk normally…for the first minute. Then it started to\u00a0move faster. So fast, in fact, that I was having a hard time keeping up. \u201cWalk normally,\u201d the nurse kept repeating as I went into a jog. Sweat was running into my eyes as I gasped for air.<\/p>\n

\u201cDo you exercise regularly?\u201d\u00a0a doctor holding a clipboard\u00a0asked. Too out of breath to answer, I nodded yes as the treadmill sped faster. \u201cI thought so,\u201d he said. \u201cWe\u2019re going to take it up a notch.\u201d I was practically running full out when the angle of the treadmill was changed to simulate what they called a slight hill, but to me it was Mt. Everest. My clothes were drenched, my chest heaving, my calves so tight they were ready to explode. Just when I was sure that machine of torture was ready to pitch me right through a window…it slowed down\u00a0and finally\u00a0stopped. As I stumbled out of the door and collapsed in a chair in the waiting room I overheard the nurse. \u201cOh boy,\u201d was all she said.<\/p>\n

The following week I saw my doctor. \u201cThe hospital report says your heart is in excellent condition,\u201d he explained.<\/p>\n

Skeptical, I said, \u201cAre you sure? I heard\u00a0the\u00a0nurse in the hospital\u00a0say, \u2018Oh boy.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n

He smiled. \u201cI guess that must have been a good \u2018Oh boy,\u2019 because they\u00a0underlined excellent three times. You have a bit of blood pressure, and I can give you medication to control that.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut what about the chest pains? What was that?\u201d<\/p>\n

He shrugged his shoulders. \u201cMaybe a pulled muscle, gas, dozens of other reasons. Hey, maybe it\u2019s just growing pains.\u201d He laughed.<\/p>\n

So, I\u2019m feeling fine\u2013better than fine. After a report like that, I\u2019m feeling great…indestructible, invincible, invulnerable…a real superman…until the chest pains start again.<\/p>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

I was bleeding from razor nicks, my man\u2019s chest looked like a baby\u2019s bottom,\u00a0I instantly began to itch, and she was sorry. Not nearly as sorry as I was. I […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":6,"featured_media":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"_tec_requires_first_save":true,"_gspb_post_css":"","_EventAllDay":false,"_EventTimezone":"","_EventStartDate":"","_EventEndDate":"","_EventStartDateUTC":"","_EventEndDateUTC":"","_EventShowMap":false,"_EventShowMapLink":false,"_EventURL":"","_EventCost":"","_EventCostDescription":"","_EventCurrencySymbol":"","_EventCurrencyCode":"","_EventCurrencyPosition":"","_EventDateTimeSeparator":"","_EventTimeRangeSeparator":"","_EventOrganizerID":[],"_EventVenueID":[],"_OrganizerEmail":"","_OrganizerPhone":"","_OrganizerWebsite":"","_VenueAddress":"","_VenueCity":"","_VenueCountry":"","_VenueProvince":"","_VenueState":"","_VenueZip":"","_VenuePhone":"","_VenueURL":"","_VenueStateProvince":"","_VenueLat":"","_VenueLng":"","_VenueShowMap":false,"_VenueShowMapLink":false,"_tribe_blocks_recurrence_rules":"","_tribe_blocks_recurrence_description":"","_tribe_blocks_recurrence_exclusions":"","footnotes":""},"essay_type":[46],"essay-category":[],"class_list":["post-16323","essay","type-essay","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","essay_type-features"],"blocksy_meta":[],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/sasee.com\/ro\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/essay\/16323","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/sasee.com\/ro\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/essay"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/sasee.com\/ro\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/essay"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sasee.com\/ro\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/6"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sasee.com\/ro\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=16323"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/sasee.com\/ro\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/essay\/16323\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/sasee.com\/ro\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=16323"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"essay_type","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sasee.com\/ro\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/essay_type?post=16323"},{"taxonomy":"essay-category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sasee.com\/ro\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/essay-category?post=16323"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}