Trapped

As we left the cardiologist’s office, Dr. M appeared overly serious.  “I’m not sure what you have,” he said, “since I’m a Family Physician, I’ve got a general idea, however this is more than a murmur. I have scheduled you an appointment downtown at 1:00 today to meet with a great cardiologist.  He’s at the hospital for surgery today, but I’ve pulled a few strings and he’s agreed to see you now.”

“You think it’s that serious?” I asked.

“We’ve put this off as long as possible,” the doctor replied.  “It’s time to get to the bottom of it.  After looking at the test results, I’d be really negligent to let this go.   I’m afraid you have some type of hypertensive heart disease. At any rate, it’s time to get some effective treatment. Be downtown at 1:00; I’ll talk with you later to check in.”

The elevator door opened, he walked in and turned around.  “We’ll get you fixed up, don’t worry,” he said, as the doors closed.

I was walking to the car before I realized that no one had asked me to pay the bill, not in my family doctor’s office, nor when I spoke briefly to the cardiologist’s assistant.  “Oh well,” I thought, “I’m sure they’ll bill me.” Whatever it was, this was more than a respiratory infection.

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I got in the car, called my partner, and announced the news.  “I’m on my way home, I’ll meet you there,” he suggested.  “We can take one car to the appointment this afternoon.”  The concern in his voice was evident, and I should’ve known I was in for it since he’d left a voice mail for me earlier in the morning.  “Where are you?” it said.  “Something must be going on — I can’t find you.  Call me as soon as you can — I need to know what’s going on.”

I hung up and called my friend, Belinda, to fill her in on the news.  We had been close friends for 25 years; she’d survived cancer three times in the time I had known her; I had survived Hodgkins Lymphoma once.  Over the years, we had developed quite a bond.

“I’ll keep you posted,” I said as we finished the conversation.  “I’m sure it’s not much of anything.”  You know, Denial is an awfully wide and long river!

John and I walked into the doctor’s office at 12:50.  Oddly, I thought, we were immediately ushered to an exam room where a Nurse Practitioner began wiring me for sound.  “We’re going to do a quick EKG,” she said, “Dr. Warren is reading your echocardiogram now.”

Neither I nor John were prepared for what happened next!  He’d been awfully quiet until now, and I hadn’t thought anything of it; he wasn’t a real chatter, anyway.  I sudenenly realized his mother had gone through major heart surgery and had ultimately passed away from complications a long and painful nine years later.  “You think there’s more to this, don’t you?” I asked.

“Let’s wait and see what the doc says,” he said.