A Little Stress, A Little Test...

This will be me a little later this morning. Well okay, I'll be wearing clothes. Definitely a bra. There will be mixed company in the room. As casual and relaxed as I have become over the years to the "world" looking at my chest, I'm really not quite comfortable having "the girls" go for a jog, while I'm meant to be walking...

A stress test. I'll be stressed before I take the test. A little test to check my stress, which is already stressing me out. So not looking forward to this.

Four years ago at the time I was diagnosed with breast cancer, the ECG I had pre-surgery indicated that I had experienced a heart attack at some point (perhaps the day I was given "the word"??). Seemed strange to me that I'd have a heart attack and not know it but there you go, apparently it does happen.

While I was awaiting surgery I was referred for a stress test (and an echo cardiogram, another ECG, a Doppler, all to be followed with the piece de resistance, the angiogram), the first I'd ever done. As a regular power walker, I assumed this would be a piece of cake. I was going to say a walk in the park, which I would truly have preferred to do. I felt I would have no difficulty performing this simple task.

I hadn't counted on nerves and panic and the stress of worrying that I had perhaps really had a heart attack. Heart disease runs rampant in my genetic history. Dealing with breast cancer and heart disease all at once seemed just about more than I could cope with.

I was strapped up to all the gizmos...I was ready to roll. Did I mention that I faint easily?! I started to walk and it seemed fine, this was okay, I could do this. And then the little man who was administering the test hit the speed it up button. All I could see was Lucy and Ethel sitting at the conveyor belt in the chocolate factory and that woman yelling "speed it up"...and my little legs began to pump just a little faster and the incline went a little higher. My breathing became more rapid (gasping for air might describe it better). I felt light headed and little beads of perspiration formed along my hair line (ah heck, I was sweating, who I am kidding...).

All seemed to be going well, albeit that I was huffing and puffing like the wolf at the brick house (you know what kind of brick house I mean). The little man looked concerned at the tape that was issuing from my machine. He looked at the tape. He looked at me. He looked at the tape again. He called to the cardiologist to come and have a look. They both looked concerned -- never mind the panic that was racing through my veins...I wanted to know what was on that print out myself! Dr. Naidu (my now cardiologist) asked me how I was feeling. That's all it took. Not only did I want my mother, I wanted off the machine. So I very nicely asked, with I'm sure panic stitched all across my face, to please stop the machine and let me get off. And they did. Probably afraid I'd faint on it, have a heart attack, fall off it or burst into tears. All options seemed open to me.

I will admit that I felt a little sheepish when a man of about 80 was marching away, happy as a clam, and he'd been at it for quite some time. Defeated? I felt crushed. Here was this man old enough to be my grandfather and he was in better shape than me?? I slouched my way to the doctor's desk, with my head down, hoping no one was really watching or had seen my pathetic display.

My test was fine. Every test I had was fine. Never in any stretch of the imagination or test conducted did it indicate that I had ever, at any time, had a heart attack. But I'm glad we checked. And I now have a cardiologist. Given my family history, that's really no bad thing.

So I'll go off today and attempt this once again. I will embrace the challenge. It has been four years after all (and I've rescheduled this test twice since being given a date in the fall!!). Could it be so bad? I will hold to the fact that I have no reason to fear my little heart. I will do my best. I will pay no attention to the person conducting the test, or to the piece of paper that comes out of the machine. Perhaps I should have practiced?? Too late now... Must remember to wear a sports bra......feet don't fail me now...