Thursday, September 12, 2013

My trip to the cardiologist

I am the patient no doc wants to see coming. I know enough to be dangerous. I am skeptical. I want studies. I question. But then, sometimes, I do pull the trigger and get a test or procedure and in every case so far, have regretted it.

So I am doctor-averse. Some people fear dentists, I fear docs.

For one thing, I have been fat all my life, except for 2.5 times I lost the weight, which then reappeared in weeks or months.

So I decided 25 yrs ago not to get weighed and get back into that loop. This includes the doctor's office. Usually they pass if I decline the scale, but sometimes it becomes mano a mano--a tug of wills.

I have atrial fibrillation--weird heartbeat--and went to many cardiologists after being diagnosed 15 yrs ago. I almost died from one med--and the other, the blood thinner, blew out my right retina--four surgeries, blind in that eye,

But my primary (he's OK) said you really should go to the cardio--it's been 10 yrs. So I looked up some people, dithered, picked one.

Their office was shabby--such a big rug stain it almost looked like a body outline from CSI.

The cardiologist was 30ish, unsmiling, scrubs, and furious that I would not get weighed. She asked almost nothing about my history--when I tried to explain about the med that almost killed me, she hushed me--"You won't get that again." Clipped! And so it went.

She seemed to have three tests most people were to get. I did not want the nuclear stress test--inject radioactive chemicals to stress the heart, make it get symptoms, take pictures, and if anything goes south, a "trained" person has an antidote.

No.

She left basically saying, OK, it's your decision, hope you live.

Hope I do, too.

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