The most recent personal health scare took place last week Monday, after a night of fitful sleep due to a pain in my left shoulder/shoulder blade area. The morning found me still hurting in that way, and also experiencing numbness along the outer lower arm and tingly numbness (or perhaps numb tingliness) in the fingers of my left hand. This collection of symptoms frankly screams HEART ATTACK, ARRRGH to many, but I was unconvinced; ‘pinched nerve’ is what came to mind. Still, the prudent middle-aged dude takes no chances, so I called my doc’s office and got in to see one of her colleagues. She was alarmed at my blood pressure, even given my long-standing record of hypertension; to her, this plus my symptoms equaled HEART ATTACK, ARRRGH, so I was shunted off to Emergency where I spent the next seven-point-five hours on my back, wired for sound, with a nitro patch plastered to my chest.
If it wasn’t for those knobby knees (as seen above), I could have been a limbo dancer.
Anyway: I was finally sprung from Emergency after the results of the stress echo test revealed that I had the heart of a fucking lion – or at least a fairly feisty domestic shorthair – and that cardiac issues were likely not in play. I was given a prescription for the muscle relaxant Robaxin, a directive to take an anti-inflammatory, and a suggestion that I consult a physiatrist. I had never even heard the term ‘physiatrist‘ before, but you learn new things every day.
Now looking forward to an EMG (electromyography) test and such physical therapy as is required, if ever my doc’s office tells me I’ve been referred. Yay!