I might be dying

In the figurative sense, we all are. But something's going down with old ticker and it's odd.

Last Thursday I woke up and my heart was beating like I had just finished two cups of coffee. But I hadn't. So I went about my day and finally, after my wife got home from AZ, she listened to it and said, "yeah, something is going on here." She's smart like that. But I was very scared. Because it was my heart. If I was just excessively gassy, that wouldn't be anything. But my heart! The last line of defense separating the living from the dead. The only thing spreading vitamins and energy and oxygen and caramel to my organs. It's scary.

So I went to the doctor and they ran some tests on me. They drew some blood and took an EKG of me. Funny story with the EKG: The lady tells me to take of my shirt and then she leaves, but she leaves the door open. Not being a stickler for modesty, I start stripping, and about when my shirt is over my head, another nurse walks by and yells, "Why are you getting naked? What are you doing? Why is the door open?" Not having a satisfactory answer to all three, I said, "Taking off my shirt." She was more confused by this and grabbed my chart looked at it and said, "Oh, an EKG." I said, "Yes." And she started closing the door and said, "Why was the door open?" And I said, feeling blamed for the whole incident, "I didn't know any better." Which was true, because I'm certainly not the professional paid to protect privacy, I'm the chump who assumes that open doors are policy at Foothill Health Care Partners' facilities. All that to say, they hooked me up to a machine that said I was fine.

But I wasn't. The doctor listened to my heart and asked some questions (including "Any substance abuse?" three times in a row, like he could convince me that I had been using narcotics) and then decided to hook me up to a 24-hr monitor for my heart and check my thyroid somethings. So right now, I'm hooked up to the monitor and clicking buttons on it when I feel something gurgle and waiting for A) my heart to explode from the excitement, B) nothing, or C) the doctor to yell at me for my indecency and substance abuse.

Just a thought.