Wednesday, July 29, 2015


So, I saw a cardiologist today. Back in May my chest started hurting. Mostly at night when I was lying in bed, before the pull of slumber dragged me down.

I’d lay there and think about the pain, worry about what it meant, pray that I didn’t leave my twelve year old and eight year old daughters without a mother in the near future. I worried myself sick over the thought of dying in my sleep. How would either A or O every get over that?

I know kids are resilient, I know they’d have Tom and my mom and so many others to love them through my death but I still worried incessantly about it.

Finally, in June, I went to see my family doctor. He didn’t take my symptoms lightly. He immediately referred me to a cardiologist. However, I felt a sense of relief when the first they could get me in was in late July (today.) I figured if my family doctor was truly worried, he’d have found a way to get me in to the cardiologist sooner than over five weeks after my appointment with him.

So I went about my life. I had pain here and there and I was grateful every single morning when I woke to Olivia’s sweet voice or the tapping of her small hand on my face. I was grateful that I woke up and greeted her when the alternative felt almost around the corner.

Yes, I was feeling little morbid in the past few weeks.

I imagined Alyssa meeting the other girls she shared a dorm with during her freshman year and her having to say something along the lines of, “I lost my mom when I was twelve.”

I worried about how that would alter her, scar her, change her.

I worried about Olivia. Who would coddle her? Who would wake up at 2am when she called from her bed, just wanting a middle of the night kiss?

The cardiologist announced about three questions into our conversation that he could say with 99% certainty that my symptoms had nothing do with my heart.

We continued our conversation a bit longer before he told me that what I probably suffer from is GERD. Basically heartburn. He wants me to take an antacid such as Previcid daily for six weeks and then go see him to confirm that my symptoms have disappeared.

Can I tell you how relieved I am? Can you, dear reader, imagine my sigh as I exhaled the last few months’ worth of stress? I’d hoped this was the case but honestly, I was willing to pay the deductible to have someone with an advanced degree in medicine to confirm it.

I was told that the labs I’d had done a month ago to check my cholesterol and glucose. He went on to say that my cholesterol is excellent. My glucose is just this side of being high (113 when normal is supposed to be below 109) so we’re going to watch that and the remedy to that is to lose weight. Yeah, duh, right?

Because he’s thorough, the doctor went through the rest of his questions and after I’d answered them all, he finished with, “So, basically, you’re a healthy, happy woman.”

Yes, please, I’m so very happy with that diagnosis.

1 comment:

Julie said...

I'm very happy as well!! Keep an eye on it.