Cardiac stress test.
Like my regular life isn't a stress test all by itself! Sheesh!
Today I had to make an appearance to be stressed. The point being is heart health but I understand the secret part of testing is to strip you half naked (or whole naked in some cases), rob you of your dignity, shove needles into sensitive locations and pump in various solutions and fluids which have been lovingly shelf stored in the Antarctic somewhere near Mr. Popper's Penguins.
I had on skivvies, shorts and an exercise t-shirt beneath my winter wear today. The temperature dropped overnight from about 60 degrees to somewhere near the freezing point. Little did I know the place for the testing wasn't much warmer and had plans for me to see just how cold they could make me from the inside out.
The first shot of radiated solution made my mouth have a momentary metallic taste that passed through as almost an afterthought. As the tech was telling me that might happen, it was over and gone.
I got a saline flush and then I went to sit and wait until the stuff have coursed through my veins enough to register.
While I was sitting there, a man older than me was cussing, fussing and fuming because he, too, had been told to come at 8 a.m. for a cardiac stress test. He must never have had one before or he'd know how the lobby shuffle works. It's like 3 card Monte for an 8 a.m. slot while they jack you up with a port in your arm and the first injection of "glow juice". Since he wasn't there when I passed back through later on my way to get my Doppler done, I assume he finally won his "hand" and got jabbed, too.
As my name was called the second time to return to the reefer truck that held the equipment, I realized that the ambient external temperature and the allegedly warmed internal temperature were a scant two degrees apart. They apologized profusely for the "chill" then commanded me to strip down to my skimpy exercise clothing for the treadmill test.
Did I mention that they injected me a second time at this point with some more solution? Yep another shot in the arm of TVA's finest iceberg temperature rinse water with some radioactive waste in it. This time, the metallic taste in my mouth was more like chewing aluminum foil for the savor. I'm kinda concerned that with all these isotopes floating around in my body that I will be my own night light later this evening...
They assure everyone that won't happen, but I remember telling patients years ago the same comforting words of hope and promise while jacking them up with their own glow juice for their scans. Nothing like injecting or drinking poison to save your life, right?
The gal that was there to apply the various sticky patches that would read my cardiac function apologized over and over for her cold hands. She needed to. I've dressed dead people who were warmer. Seriously, sister, buy some dang gloves for those frozen digits! And the alcohol prep pads had also been kept on ice just for me.
Perhaps I forgot to tell you this little gem: that they also use a bit of sandpaper to ensure a good contact point? Oh, you didn't know that did you? Yep, they use some fine grit sandpaper and rub the hide off of you just enough that the adhesive will stick well and then rip off the second, third and fourth layers of dermal tissue and leave you looking like a polka dotted victim of modern medicine upon their removal later in the day.
By the time we got the scans underway the second time, I was so dang cold that couldn't feel my fingers or toes. And I'm reasonably sure parts of me froze and fell off. I just hope it wasn't anything I might need later on. Of course, it can't be my saddlebags, my gut or my butt that froze off... everyone knows it NEVER gets cold enough to truly freeze your butt off. Kinda sad...
Anyway, when all the testing, sliming, sanding, poking, injecting, scanning and sweating were done, I was commanded to return Thursday of next week to receive the results of the testing.
I hope they got the information they needed. Because frankly, this gal is all tested out. I think I have won a free pass to say "NO" and say it emphatically the next time they gin up some kind of procedure they want to see me naked to perform.
I'm about ready to buy a burka.
Should you happen to pass my house later this evening and see a glow coming from my windows as it is passing through the home, don't worry... it's just me. They promise I'll flush this stuff out of my within 24 hours. The question is, will the pee glow... and do I need a black light to find out?
