A FUNNY THING HAPPENED ON THE WAY TO MY STRESS TEST by Brian Gari Page A
Authors: Brian Gari
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director in Maryland by the name of David Norman who wanted to revive my deceased Broadway musical “Late Nite Comic.” I was shocked and thrilled. There had been no productions since it died on Broadway in 1987 — the same year I got divorced! He said it would premiere on April 5, 2012 at Frederick Community College. Jeanne and I went there for the opening (and full run) and it took our breath away (perhaps a bad choice of words for me). We had a great time at the show and in Frederick. It couldn’t have been better…except for a little bit of those symptoms again. Why Maryland? Stress? Not really. We ate well and I even enjoyed utilizing the whirlpool in the hotel pool.
When we arrived back in Manhattan a few days later, I was dragging the suitcases up the subway steps (dragging is a good word) and was huffing and puffing. I had to stop. Seemed logical. Jeanne didn’t think so. She thought I should call the doctor back the next day. So on Monday morning I did just that. My physician suggested that I call a cardiologist this time. I made the call right away and was set up for an appointment the following day. It was a simple interview but the cardiologist believed a stress test was in order. I booked it following my acupuncture appointment the next day. I had been going for acupuncture to try to get rid of the numbness in my foot caused by a recent bout of sciatica. The juxtaposition seemed ludicrous — a peaceful acupuncture and massage followed ten minutes later (I drove my motor scooter to make it on time) by a stress test. I arrived at the stress test smelling a little weird; my acupuncturist likes to use a eucalyptus massage oil that literally opens up your sinuses. The interns at the stress test said it got rid of the lunch room smell that had been permeating the office for an hour. They weren’t quite sure which was worse. I got on the treadmill and began my stress test adventure. No big deal. I was told to tell the doctors when I felt those pressure feelings in my chest. At about five minutes in, I did feel a little of those feelings. They stopped the treadmill and used a sonogram (exactly like those that detect the sex of a baby for mothers). The consensus was that I was to go to the hospital the next day for an angiogram. Meanwhile, I thought I could have gone further on that treadmill. Guess not. I asked what an angiogram involves. The cardiologist said they stick some dye through your groin up to your heart and if there’s no blockage, you go home. If there is, they insert a stent and you stay overnight. I asked about how they go up through the groin and was told there would be some anesthesia and I wouldn’t feel it. This was now getting a little scarier and more serious.
3.
Angiogram
The angiogram was set for Thursday at 10 AM in the hospital. Jeanne took off from work to support me even though I was insisting I could do it by myself. She wouldn’t hear of it. I had some things I needed to send through the post office so we walked uptown and made that our first stop. Wouldn’t you know I would be given a hard time on the way to this serious procedure? I had used staples to seal up one envelope and this bitch at the post office refused to mail it if I didn’t buy postal tape and reseal the damn envelope. Fortunately, a supervisor witnessed the confrontation and scooted me over to a nice clerk who was happy to do business with me. (And the post office wonders why they are going bankrupt!)
We left there and continued our delightful walk up Amsterdam Avenue past the beautiful Cathedral of Saint John the Divine. Jeanne had to take some photos, but I was growing more anxious and wanted to get to the hospital. She recalled that her ex-husband had some heart issues so she called him on her cell phone. He said he’d be glad to talk to me about the angiogram and stents. He told me it was no big deal. He had had several stents and was doing fine. “Don’t worry…it’s easy!” he reiterated.
We
When we arrived back in Manhattan a few days later, I was dragging the suitcases up the subway steps (dragging is a good word) and was huffing and puffing. I had to stop. Seemed logical. Jeanne didn’t think so. She thought I should call the doctor back the next day. So on Monday morning I did just that. My physician suggested that I call a cardiologist this time. I made the call right away and was set up for an appointment the following day. It was a simple interview but the cardiologist believed a stress test was in order. I booked it following my acupuncture appointment the next day. I had been going for acupuncture to try to get rid of the numbness in my foot caused by a recent bout of sciatica. The juxtaposition seemed ludicrous — a peaceful acupuncture and massage followed ten minutes later (I drove my motor scooter to make it on time) by a stress test. I arrived at the stress test smelling a little weird; my acupuncturist likes to use a eucalyptus massage oil that literally opens up your sinuses. The interns at the stress test said it got rid of the lunch room smell that had been permeating the office for an hour. They weren’t quite sure which was worse. I got on the treadmill and began my stress test adventure. No big deal. I was told to tell the doctors when I felt those pressure feelings in my chest. At about five minutes in, I did feel a little of those feelings. They stopped the treadmill and used a sonogram (exactly like those that detect the sex of a baby for mothers). The consensus was that I was to go to the hospital the next day for an angiogram. Meanwhile, I thought I could have gone further on that treadmill. Guess not. I asked what an angiogram involves. The cardiologist said they stick some dye through your groin up to your heart and if there’s no blockage, you go home. If there is, they insert a stent and you stay overnight. I asked about how they go up through the groin and was told there would be some anesthesia and I wouldn’t feel it. This was now getting a little scarier and more serious.
3.
Angiogram
The angiogram was set for Thursday at 10 AM in the hospital. Jeanne took off from work to support me even though I was insisting I could do it by myself. She wouldn’t hear of it. I had some things I needed to send through the post office so we walked uptown and made that our first stop. Wouldn’t you know I would be given a hard time on the way to this serious procedure? I had used staples to seal up one envelope and this bitch at the post office refused to mail it if I didn’t buy postal tape and reseal the damn envelope. Fortunately, a supervisor witnessed the confrontation and scooted me over to a nice clerk who was happy to do business with me. (And the post office wonders why they are going bankrupt!)
We left there and continued our delightful walk up Amsterdam Avenue past the beautiful Cathedral of Saint John the Divine. Jeanne had to take some photos, but I was growing more anxious and wanted to get to the hospital. She recalled that her ex-husband had some heart issues so she called him on her cell phone. He said he’d be glad to talk to me about the angiogram and stents. He told me it was no big deal. He had had several stents and was doing fine. “Don’t worry…it’s easy!” he reiterated.
We
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