Three or four weeks ago I almost freaked out. I woke up at 4am with pain in my chest, and the back of the neck. No, I was not sweating although I can’t particularly remember. As I detest illness and hospitals, I put it down to gas.
Later on that same morning, my dad was once again taken to the emergency room at the BDF Hospital with suspected fluid in the lungs, once again. True enough, they were filling up nicely. He was admitted.. ultimately he left hospital after being drained, only to return a couple of days later. He LOVES that place! But that’s another story.
On that day as his ticker was being looked into, I thought I’d ask the attending cardiac doctor what she thought of this pain I suffered from earlier that morning. She asked the questions and told me then to immediately go to the Cardiac clinic and tell them to admit me with “chest pains.”
Ohno! Notmetoo!
They wired me up, laid me down and started humming and hawing on graphs, taking about a litre and a half of blood for tests (yes I exaggerate) and eventually an hour later said there is nothing wrong with me.
Leg it!
But before doing so, the nurse insisted that I undergo more tests. Her rationale is that my dad has a heart condition, and I am obese. I told her, no, there was no need for any more tests as their test and measurements were quite normal, no?
No. She didn’t care. She said I’ve got to do the Tread Mill Test. The doc was happy enough to just let me go without insisting too much, the nurse wouldn’t have it. She went, convinced the doc to have a “good talking to” me, and while the doc was getting on my case (you’re too fat, your dad has a heart condition – she was treating dad as well remember? – and you’re FAT (yes I know, you told me that already!) So do as you’re told.) the nurse went and got me an appointment for the TMT. Which was this morning.
Arrived at the appointed time this morning, a little delay as there were other patients waiting patiently, ultimately my turn came: stripped, put my gym shorts on, trainers and out to be shaved, probes stuck to various places around my chest, BP taken and up I went on the tread mill.
This is going to be easy. I’m gonna ACE this test!
It started with walking, a minute later it upped the juice, and then every few minutes the speed would just carry on increasing! Hey, hold on a minute, I’m going to the gym this afternoon, so I’d better leave some energy for that, right?
Anyway it got too fast, I got too out of breath and the technician said that I already reached the heart level they were looking for. Why the hell they didn’t pull the plug earlier then, I have no idea. Gluttons for punishment is my guess.
The good news is that all is ok. The ticker is working as it should. BUT. Again the nurse (a different one) insisted that I do an Echo test although I wasn’t scheduled for one, “just to be sure.”
Ok then, dress, walk across the hall, undress, more probes (no more shaving, and no, you’re not gonna see a picture!) and then 20 minutes later I was told to once again leg it.
“Nothing wrong with you.”
Phew!
The Mahmood Al-Yousif Machine, ZERO DefectsTM
So. I now officially have NO excuse not to continue to go to the gym and working my ass off at 85% heart rate to lose the blubber.
And what did all this lot cost? Being seen by the best doctors, technicians, nurses, in the best heart centre in the Gulf?
200 Fils! 53c!
And that was for the parking lot. And even that is subsidised.
I love this country!
