It is really good to hear your PA say that you have less than a 2% chance of returning to the ER anytime soon with heart issues, but that's exactly why I went into the ER in the first place. It happens to me, and when it does, I take far too much time to react to it. Most people who feel like I felt for the past two days would have just gone in, had the tests run (bitten the financial bullet), and found out two days earlier than I did that they have less than a 2% chance of returning to the ER anytime soon with heart issues. I had acute indigestion - again.
I say "again" because this was not the first time. Heck, it wasn't the 2nd, the 3rd, the 4th, or even the 5th time. I've been dealing with this stupid acid reflux and gastro problem on and off for years, and to be perfectly honest about it, it sucks! It really, really sucks. It sucks not only because it's painful, which it is, but it sucks because women don't always exhibit the same sort of symptoms a man presents when experiencing a cardiac event. (Look it up, I'm not lying.)
Women die all the time from undiagnosed heart ailments that could have been diagnosed if we'd just go to the doctors and admit what we're feeling, but like me, most women think it's just another bout of indigestion, so we pop a Tums and think we'll be OK. If they're really like me, they'll rest, walk around a little, get on the vibration plate to shake things up, and take another Tums before going to the shower, and lie to themselves about it getting better.
Saturday morning I got up and worked about 40 minutes in the garage, moving things around and trying to get the last bits into the house so I could sort them. It was hot; I knew it was hot, but it was still early, and I felt as if I needed to get those last boxes into the house. We moved a month ago! I was determined to bring the last boxes into the house, and I did. I did, but at a cost. The extra exercise, stress, and lifting stirred my gut a little, and then it began to churn. Over the next 48 hours, things got a little heated.
I refused to go into the hospital yesterday even though ChatGPT was adamant that I do it. I couldn't talk my way out of it, so I told myself it was a machine, probably backed by hospitals, doctors, and Big Pharma, and I wasn't going to fall into that trap. I knew what I had was gastric and not heart-related- I wasn't dizzy, I wasn't sweating, I wasn't vomiting, and there were no other shooting or dull pains other than the center of my ribcage; like every other time, it was indigestion.
Well, I couldn't sleep again. I moved about, turned, propped myself up, argued with my body, and finally, after another semi-restless night, I decided to ask Laura to take me to the E.R. I hate it too, because I know I'm going to end up paying for it, and it was all for nothing. This time, it was different. This time, it was at least something I could deal with, so I listened closely and let the nurses and the PA do their thing.
I went into the SSM Health in El Reno, a great place, by the way. You never have to wait, and the staff is always tops! I get in, and three young nurses start in on me. I had to remove my bra and shirt; one hooked me up with sticky pads, while another took my blood, and the third asked me rapid-fire questions about my health. I was told to remain still, so Laura answered the questions for me from that point.
No one likes to be pricked, but there they were, poking a needle into me, drawing blood and adding the little tube thing so they could give me meds if I needed them. The other side of me was bound with an armband to keep track of my heart rate and blood pressure, which, by the way, was fantastic! My temperature going in was 97.6, which is normal for me. Laura and I discussed it; I felt it best to let them know I have an extra click on my heart, but the PA told me he saw it when he came in to discuss my results.
The thing is, it's very normal, even before they run the blood and tests to give a "chest pain" patient an aspirin and a tiny pill of nitroglycerin. If you've not had nitrates in the past -- ASK about them. I made the mistake of saying OK before I found out the hard way that they literally open up veins and deprive your brain of needed oxygen. This forces you into a dizzy spell, you sweat, and yes, it makes you heave from your toes! I didn't actually vomit, but I sure as hell felt as if I would, and I sure as hell sounded as if I was. It was TERRIBLE!
That event was over within fifteen minutes. They put a cold, wet rag over my forehead and at the base of my neck. They noted in my chart that I have a sensitivity to nitrates, and they promised not to do that again unless it was ultimately needed to save my life. I was far too weak to thank them, so Laura had to do it for me. What a brave one she was! She held the barf bag under my mouth the entire time I was wretching. Dang! She did well.
After the whole dying without needing to die event, they let me rest and gave me Pepcid intravenously to ward off the pressure in my chest that had not subsided with the nitrate. It was their way of solidifying that the heart had nothing to do with the pressure; it was the digestive system instead. Pepcid is a strong medicine, and I am so grateful I can pick it up over the counter at any drugstore I choose. It will be my nightly friend. I don't feel bad for admitting that, either. I will listen to my doctor, and I will pop one before I eat something spicy, greasy, or heavy, and I will pop one an hour before I go to bed. It's my new routine.
The PA came in, and he said I was good to go -- I was 64 years old, overweight, needed to stop eating crazy foods, and to cut back on as much salt as I think I can cut back on. I'm normal, which always surprises me when someone in a professional capacity says things like that. I'm normal. Keep that in mind, friends; I am a normal person! He said my bloodwork came back negative for anything bad and positive for all things good. He said my EKG was perfect, and that my chances of this particular event causing heart-related issues were less than 2%. He gave me a score of 1, which I assume is on the lower side.
Let me just say, and say it out loud, that Jesus Christ is so very wonderful. Not only are our bodies marvelously and wonderfully made, but He also gave us the opportunity to go to school and learn about them. We can watch videos, read books, listen to people, and learn all we can. It's a gift. It's a gift to be able to predict, to a certain degree, that this or that is the issue. When they took my chest X-ray and told me there was nothing wrong in my chest, just pressure in the ribcage around the sternum, I was relieved. No tumors, no clouds, nothing. I think when you get older, you often stop or refuse to go to the doctor because of what they may find. I know that's what I do.
So, it wasn't all for nothing this time. Laura drove me to Walgreens and home, which was the first time she'd driven in a very long time. (I drove us to the E.R.) She was so brave and so helpful. She was truly worried and prayed for me. I was able to face a lot of fears without much fuss. I was a polite patient even when I was swimming in misery from the nitrate—at least I was told I was nice. The whole thing took about two hours, and I'm home again. I have felt better, but I can absolutely testify that I have felt so much worse. God is great!
I took a couple of little Jesus rubber figurines with me. I left one in the waiting room. When we were walking out, I saw a girl playing with it. That made me happy. He's literally everywhere.
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