Met with my cardiologist yesterday. He reviewed the results of my recent series of tests, including a stress test. Good news, I’ll be around a bit longer.
He did confirm that I have an extra heartbeat, sometimes. It went away during my five minutes treadmill stress test. He also said the “other side” of my heart was only pumping at 50% capacity but again not to be too concerned about that. He said that could be because of my age. There we go with the “a man of your age.” Well, I will be 71 years old in a couple weeks.
He told me that I could get a catheterization then I would be “absolutely sure” there was no blockage. He said the chances of complications were one in a thousand and he was “very good” at catheterizations. This procedure would be through my groin. I am very hesitant to undergo such an invasive procedure.
I decided not to get a catheterization. We’ll meet again in January for a followup.
In the meantime I go on with my life, somewhat relieved for a “man my age.”
This morning I had my follow-up visit to my dermatologist. This visit was to have the one stitch removed from my left forehead where he removed the wart-like growth last Friday. Good news! It wasn’t cancerous. The Good Doctor said it was “only keratosis, not even actinic keratosis” which is a pre-canceous condition. Dodged another bullet.
He then told me to take my shirt off and lie on my stomach. He was going to give me a needle to numb the lower portion of my back prior to digging out an old cyst I have near my spine cord. Nice huh?
So I took of my shirt and tee shirt turned around and rather awkwardly laid my seventy year old hairy chest on the cold butcher paper covered leatherette Groaning Board (what DO YOU call that you lie/sit on in the doctor’s office)?
The needle went in painfully (I love it!) and soon I was numbed up ready for The Dig.
The Good Doctor took out his scalpel and proceeded to dig….and dig….and dig. No pain but I could feel the pressure.
Finally he said “Ah ha!” He then showed me the recalcitrant cyst. It was the size of a large walnut. Man oh man, that was on my spine? I wonder how big it would have gotten had I done nothing?
He placed the wet, bloody cyst in a medical disposable bag (more Ron in the trash) and told me to get dressed. Before I left I asked if I could take his picture for my iPhone. He reluctantly consented. I find that doctors aren’t real thrilled to have their pictures taken after they have performed a procedure on you. Wonder why?
Now I await my next Patch Job. Like Bette Davis said “Getting Old Ain’t For Sissies!”