Normally I sleep in a little on Friday mornings, to make up for having to go grocery shopping. But this morning, I was out the door before sunrise, on my way to the hospital/medical complex. My appointment was at the ungodly hour of 7:30.
Naturally, I got a fantastic parking spot because no one else was there yet. And when I reached the waiting room, I was the only patient in there waiting for at least twenty minutes. I still don’t understand why they asked me to come in so early, because I didn’t see the doctor until 8:00, and I know for sure there was no one else before me.
This doctor (also a cardiologist) spent more time with me than any other doctor I’ve seen since this whole rodeo began—at least 40 minutes. He surprised me with the unwelcome news that I have already had a heart attack at some point in the past, which resulted in scar tissue in my heart. No idea when that might have happened, or why I didn’t realize something serious was going on.
When I told him I was already scheduled for the drainage procedure on Tuesday, he went right to work setting it up so that I could have the catheterization that same day. It saves time and money and I only have to get off my blood thinner once instead of twice.
So Tuesday morning I’ll be there bright and early for the heart cath. If he finds any blockages (which he thinks he will), he will go ahead and insert stents as needed. Shortly after coming out of recovery from that procedure, I’ll go wherever I need to go to get the fluid drained out of my chest cavity. Doesn’t that sound like a fun day?
Supposedly, I’ll get to go home after the second procedure, but knowing how things go for me I wouldn’t bet on it. I have a feeling someone is going to suggest keeping me overnight for “observation.”
One thing about this doctor that I liked was his interest in me as a person and his concern about my lack of insurance. He said that my heart condition absolutely qualifies as a disability, and if I can get qualified for disability, I would automatically be qualified for Medicare also, even though I’m not old enough—and Medicare would pay retroactively for everything I’ve had done.
The problem is that I’ve been self-employed as a teacher/tutor and haven’t worked for a “company” for many years. Preliminary research makes me think it’s unlikely that disability would be approved. I don’t want a payout—just the designation. I will research it further but right now it doesn’t look hopeful.
So anyway, I would appreciate your continued prayers for my health and for the two procedures I’m having on Tuesday, and for wisdom regarding the financial side of it all.
When my doctor’s appointment ended, I was sent downstairs to preregister and get advance lab work done for Tuesday’s fun fest (including another Covid test). So it was late in the morning when I returned home at last. When I feel overwhelmed/stressed/discouraged, I often cope by lying down and moping until I fall asleep. It’s especially easy to do now because I need to lie down so much anyway. So if I’m both napping and moping, I’m “noping.” Seems pretty accurate for my current situation. And there was nothing to stop my noping today because the friend who was supposed to come over had a change of plans.
Meanwhile, Jasper spent much of the day out at his forge, helping a friend with some blacksmithing while also working on a poker that someone at his church commissioned him to make. He did a great job!
I made a big pot of chicken curry for supper and then we finished the evening by watching a movie with Lucy and Tanner. I say after a really bad week, the best option for shaking it off is watching a hilariously bad movie.
And finally—I’ll finish with some good news. The last two nights, after posting my blog entry, I’ve stayed up a little later to write. I had a story more than half done before my health problems started, and hadn’t felt up to writing ever since. But I finished that story in two evenings and now I can start another one and keep going until I have enough for my anthology. Such a relief!
Five years ago, on this date, Jasper was helping Walter build a treehouse.