What ever happened to the good old fashioned stress test? You know, the one where you get on the treadmill and huff and puff until the doctor either kills you or says your heart is OK. That's what I expected yesterday.
Apparently they did not get the memo that I am V-E-R-Y CLAUSTROPHOBIC! They were going to shoot me with some radioactive stuff, have me lay VERY still in a CONFINED SPACE for about 15 minutes, then jog on the treadmill, before ANOTHER 15 minutes in the confined space.
I know technology has come a long way. Heck, I work in technology. But I was not able to tolerate the image machine. Too much like the dreaded MRI for me.
I spoke with Dr. Kossman, admitting my weakness. We are going to try again next week with just the old fashioned jog on the treadmill. If I survive, I should be good for surgery. If not...well, who knows what is next...
Enjoy the Labor Day weekend. Let the football fly!
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