This Past Friday was October the 22nd, right? It wasn’t the 13th, correct?

Why am I asking?

Friday morning I had an appointment with my cardiologist because I’ve been having strange fluttering sensations in my chest. I also become light headed, and my heart literally feels like a runaway steam engine when the episodes happen. The cardiologist interviewed me for about a half hour - that is what it felt like because he covered my entire life - and said that he thought I had coronary artery disease. He gave me the option of having a catheterization immediately at Saint Joseph’s Hospital on College Avenue, or going to Lancaster General Next week, Friday. He also said that I might have to have “stents” placed in some of my damaged arteries. “If you need the "stents," I’ll have to keep you in the hospital over night, perhaps longer, but if not, you will go home the same day."

I decided to get it over with. Why prolong the situation. Besides, if, as one of the forms I signed said (I’m paraphrasing of course), I had hit the one in a million lottery and died, better it should happen right away, rather than I should sit around and worry about the possibility that it might happen for the next week.

*

I’m a bit more wrinkly, saggy, and baggy than this illustration

As it turned out, I made the right decision because the catheterization showed my arteries to be clear for a person my age. I did not need any stents, and I was able to go home Friday evening. I didn’t have anyone from THE BIG NEEDLE come get me because they would have totally freaked, and I would have been stuck in the hospital for a week. Instead, I called my daughter; Ruth and she came and got me. She’s a pain, and she had all my artwork taken to Pittsburgh, and I’m still angry about that. Nevertheless, I look at it this way. I was able to run Ruth raged Friday night. She had to come get me. She had to make arrangements for her husband, Samuel to come and pick up my car and drive it to Big Needle Gulch. I insisted on outside help being hired to stay with me overnight, so she had to make those arrangements.

Actually, to Ruth’s credit, she wanted to stay herself, but I couldn’t put myself through that, and cantankerous person that I am, I told her so.

I am not allowed to move about accept to go to the bathroom, so Ruth must run in and bring me a meal twice a day. I’ve insisted that management here at THE PRICKLY NEEDLE not know about the catheterization because they would panic and faster than a speeding bullet I’d be sent back to the hospital. So, I have spent the weekend writing, reading, and watching the Boob Tube. I’m trying to do the best imitation of a couch potato I can. And, I guess I shouldn’t complain because as it turned out, my heart is healthy and I’ll probably live to be at least one hundred.


*”Left Heart Catheterization,” Medicine Plus Medical Encyclopedia, A.D.A.M. Inc. also known as the American Association Health Care Commission (www.urac.org). Updated by the ADAM Medical Illustration team on 3/23/200. Page last updated September 28, 2004. Sunday, October 24, 2004 PM. EDT.


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