Saturday, February 2, 2013

TOO LITTLE TOO LATE


So beginning two weeks ago I was in the unbelievable throes of having major irregular heartbeats and/or palpitations. I'm telling you... it was crazy. For all this time, these crazy ass heart beats would come for fifteen minute clips and then go away for about about a half hour let's say. It was actually kinda freaky. Anyway, last Saturday night I finally high tailed it over to the ER to see what's what.

I was tested, told I won't die, then released soon enough and was told to see my cardiologist ASAP. Therein lies the rub.

This past Monday morning, lickety split I got on the phone, called the doctor's office and TRIED to get an app't. Don't ask. It was like pulling teeth. I so could have f-ing kicked the bucket by the time I saw the doctor. Which BTW I SILL HAVEN'T.

Instead I was finally seen by an office nurse on Thursday and only then did they give me a 24 hour heart monitor to wear. Which I did. And which for point of information... NEVER EVER ONCE RECORDED A FUNKY HEART BEAT!! At all! Why not??

Because get this... by the time I got this medical help... after two weeks  of problems... ALL OF A SUDDEN MY HEART BEATING DECIDED TO BECOME ABSOLUTELY NORMAL AGAIN! Can you believe it?? For 14 days I was this close to dying. By the time they decided to monitor me?? Boom. No palps whatsoever! WHAT ARE THE ODDS??? Man, am I ever pissed.

So basically this entire episode has gone by totally untreated and completely not recorded. Well, unless the ultra sound from yesterday showed anything but I don't see how it could given my heart was definitely back to normal by then. On the other hand, the fantastic nurse, also named Linda, and I became such excellent friends that maybe it was worth it, afterall. In fact we became such fast friends that I even brought her five fabulous black lace sheer nightgowns from my closet, for her to choose from for an annual Valentine's dinner she's making for her husband. SIDEBAR: I also instructed her to wear absolutely nothing underneath, unless it's a black g-string and whoa is SHE ever psyched.

But... forget about her. I'm way more concerned with THIS Linda. Who 1.) was given a prescription of low dosage beta blockers should the heartbeats go nuts again and 2.) will FINALLY be able to see the doctor come this Tuesday to go over my results. Which as I said, can't be anything alarming, given the office didn't actually see me while this entire crapola was actually taking place. Geez... who the hell made these receptionists God, anyway?

In the meantime, here I am happy as a lark, and of course feeling just fine. What the heck was actually going on the past couple of weeks, I'll never know. What I do know is that come Tuesday I SO better not hear... according to the ultra sound...  that I've got heart troubles. I'm telling you right now... that kinda news will break my heart, for sure. Pun intended.

Exactly how I'll tell the doctor that the receptionist is a Nazi Wannabe, I have no clue. I did get a great tip however from Valentine Linda: speak to the nurses, instead. Forget the telephone receptionist. Trust me, mission accomplished on that one, alright. Since as it turns out... she did too little too late if you ask me. The Little Bitch.

No comments:

Post a Comment