I suppose I should revel in my heart cath results, and do not get me wrong, I do, but since my pressures are not higher, the mystery deepens. I know a reason for the SOB lies somewhere, just not in the usual spots.
The baby nurse (everyone looks like a baby these days) had a hard time getting the IV going. She poked, then wiggled the needle awhile atop my left hand. I told her the right arm/hand held betters veins, but she said the docs preferred the left because of the way the cath lab was set up. She ended up putting the IV in the right hand.
The doc decided since I enjoyed lying flat on an ice cold table in an freezing room, he would do a left heart cath as well. The left side looked good.
Procedures changed a bit since the last cath I had. This time I lay flat for just an hour. Spanish Inquisition and the rack come to mind, complete with sand bags. My lower back, across the area of the kidneys, felt as though it would break. The pain wracked my bones, not just the muscles. Another smidge of Versed would have helped about then.
When the baby nurse cranked me into a sitting position, my back screamed for a solid minute. She diverted me with a sandwich and some coffee. Yeah, coffee, finally. Thirty minutes later I signed papers and the baby nurse wheeled me to Connie's car.
Yesterday morning after my shower as I got ready to go, I had a panic attack. As attacks go, this one ranks on the lower end of the scale. I lay on the bed and panted for awhile and reminded myself dying probably was not on the books that moment. This incident did feature some old standards: nausea, hot flashes, cold sweat, gasping. The symptoms ceased pretty quickly and I finished getting ready. I am taking Xanax for the attacks and up to yesterday, it worked pretty well.
***
I want Spain to beat Germany today. Since this World Cup offered some bizarre situations, you never know. One element this WC did not lack was excitement. I can almost hear you now. "Shit! What was he thinking?" etc., etc.
Dude.
Later.
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