I went for the gym this morning as usual half-cocked. There were two mortgage bankers I had to talk before. Then I was trying to clean the flat up before my family friends showed up. The light fitting in the bathroom had a meltdown. And I ran out of the house without having my breakfast.
Did five minutes in the gym - and my trainer noticed my lower lips turning pale. So he sent me home and told me to go see a doctor.
I did have a bout of flu and my stomach wasn't feeling top notched either. I think I caught something over the weekend. But its most likely due to my poor diet and sleep. Apart from some fatigue I felt ok.
I went over to my old doctor - a senior physician - and expected to get the usual blah - go get some rest- take two panadols, call me in the morning and btw take some antibiotics for your stomach. However, he found my heart rate a little too high - and got me to go take a ECG for my heart. Cost $35.
The results according to the tech was ok - normal. But the doctor freaked out. There was a dip in the rate and he interpreted that as bad news ... very bad news... so f@#king bad that he told me to cancel my Maldives diving trip. See that glitch, you've got a serious problem mate. But first pay me my bill of $50 before you die... I mean leave.
Waaaaaaaaaa??? What did you just say???
Apparently, according to the test results - there's a fucking abnormality in my heart. So no more scuba diving for you.
Oh no. No more Maldives diving trip. And I didn't even sign for the insurance yet.
He referred me to a cardio specialist at Mt. E. Apparently the Prime Minister also sees the cardio too.
When I got there, I was half expecting him to confirm the old doctor's confirmation. And to eyeball me and say I've got 6 months to live or something. For some strange reason I approached the news of my imminent death with a vague sense of relief. Great, I'm going to be free of my problems and I'm going to get to see God. Boy, I'm gonna tell him off for slacking off his job. And so I bid my time at the cardio's waiting room, rehearsing what I was going to say to the Almighty. But boy was I disappointed I was going to miss this diving trip to the Maldives!
The cardio's staff seemed amused by my presence for some reason. I went through the barrage of tests, ECG again, treadmill exercise and the ultrasound.
I gotta tell you seeing your heart on the ultrasound monitor is quite scary initially. Hearing its beat on the speakers blows your mind away. Its freaky. There it is. Your heart. On TV. There's a little thing thats flapping about. That's your valve. What happens me I stop breathing? Can I make it stop??? Will it get self-conscious and get camera-shy???
Anyways, the good news is that I'm ok. Top notch in fact. Well, maybe a bit over-weight. But nothing that some extra running and good dieting won't cure. The bad news is the tests and consultation cost me another $680.
Now excuse me whilst I go and kick the arse of a senile doctor.