Monday, April 14, 2008

MIA

Sorry. I know it's been a while. And I'm sorry.

A lot has been going on, okay? Give me a break. I know, I know, it's getting less "Live Musing Nightly" and more "Live Musings Seldomly" than ever. But I'm back on track. Hopefully. Might as well fill you in on the goings on, right? Hey, you're here, so let's chat.

I'll begin with the whole health thing and my series of tests...

When last I wrote, I was prepping for the ole' scoperooni in the patootie. (I believe that's the correct medical term for the procedure.) And I've gotta tell you, the whole prep thing was nothing like I thought it would be. It was freakin' worse. Oh, man. I'll spare you from the nasty details, but let me just say that if you've ever wanted to be wrung out like a dirty sponge you've been washing your car with, then have I got the stuff for you. Three and a half ounces of pure colon cleansing dynamite. I could have swallowed a bulldozer and a fire house on full blast and gotten the same effect. By the next morning, when I had to take the second dose of this atom splitting liquid, I already felt like I was ready to curl up in a ball and cry to mommy. A second dose was like pouring mercury into a burn wound. Try this: take a thawed chicken, with all the guts out, turn on your spigot and let the water run into the top of it. Where does the water go? Yeah. You get the idea.

Anyway, the good news is my test was normal. And I managed to drop a few pounds in the process. Along with finding a little plastic G.I. Joe gun I lost in 1969. Hmmm, I was wondering where that went.

Then I had the stress test. I was really nervous about this one. Why? Oh, I don't know, but something about the thought of a blockage leading to my heart just makes me feel a bit tense. So I went through a week of panic attacks. Honestly. It was the first week of my new job (more on that later), and here I am, under the weather and imagining the lining of my heart looking like a month old peanut butter and roofing tar sandwich. Not a good week. So I didn't eat much. Hardly at all. I actually lost a few more pounds. Okay, I never read on the Weight Watchers website anything about panic attacks helping weight loss, but hell, I'll take it any way I can get it.

So, I went last Monday for the first part of the stress test. Easy. They injected me with some nuclear imaging stuff then take pictures of my heart at rest. Key words: At rest. Nice. Lay on the table, no treadmill, sweating or heavy breathing. That is to come a couple days later...

I go back for the second portion of the stress test which is far more of a stressful stress test. First, the woman uses something like a dull car window ice scraper to shave some of the fur off my chest. Oh, did I mention that frigging hurts? And now, almost a week later, and my chest looks like I was shirtless and locked in a closet with a bobcat. Plus, it itches like crazy. But, I guess the EKG sticky pads wouldn't stick to my chest, since it would be like trying to get Scotch tape to stick to a bear's ass. Which I've tried, and it doesn't work.

Anyway, I'm injected again with the same nuclear stuff as the other day, and now I'm wondering if I'll ever need a nightlight again, or if I'll just be able to find my way in the dark by opening my mouth. I'm put on the treadmill and begin my heart pumping workout. Basically, it's a treadmill from Hell. It speeds up and increases the incline every minute or so. So by the sixth or seventh minute, it's like you're having a walking race up Mount Kilimanjaro. Fun for the whole family!

I'm sweaty, heaving, and ready to puke out the granola bar I ate three days earlier, when the masochist running the thing tells me she's got my heart at the right rate and I can slow down. Super. I'm glad I could get my heart to the rate you want it, before dying.

I then get the imaging of my heart and I'm allowed to leave. Thanks! See you guys in the emergency room.

A few days later, I got the call that all is normal in CardiacTown. I guess it was worth it.

So, yes, I also started a new job, which means all my old jokes are suddenly new again. Yessss...I have material! I'll save that for the next post, which will be very soon. I promise.

Once again, sorry about the delay. Now get off my butt, I had a rough couple weeks.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

I'm happy to know you're going to live!!! LOL

P.A. Devereaux said...

So glad to hear that you are good to go! Now back to smokin and drinkin!!