Today was the final follow-up cardiology visit. This was to close the loop on the winter escapades and excitement that began with a couple incidences of snow shoveling followed by hours of nausea and feeling wretched. Over a span of several weeks there was a visit with the primary care practitioner, the consultation with the cardiologist, blood work, a stress test, and an echocardiogram. Contrary to claims by certain exes, it was confirmed by the cardiologist that I do, indeed, have a heart. The tests indicated there is nothing physically wrong with it. Emotionally, well, that's another story.
The 15-minute visit at the cardiologist office
involved quality time with the medical assistant who directed me to the scale. The
number displayed on the torture machine explained a LOT about the battle of the closet. It’s not a record
high, but it’s heading that way. UGH. That is the price for inactivity and eating as a hobby. There was a blood pressure reading (116/62) and the regular
review of allergies.
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| Study guide! |
It was barely five minutes with the doctor. The conversation was basically "How are you doing?" "Great." "Good. You don't have heart disease and you don't need to come back." It was a relief, but at the same time, it felt a big waste of time. And the $60 co-pay stings. For the same money (or less) there could have been a mani-pedi that included a couple cycles in the massage chair. Or a couple weeks worth of groceries.
The whole medical appointment, with travel, took an hour, and it probably could have been a phone call. It wasn't awful, but it also wasn't my favorite fun time of the week. The
time suck and the hit to the wallet feel like a rip-off. Unfortunately, it’s nothing like the hit to bank
account that will happen in a few weeks when I have dental surgery, but that is
all part of the glory of the American system of health care and insurance companies. And that is enough
about that. For now, anyway.
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