I was moved last evening from the “Chest Pain Observation Unit” to a regular room here at Florida Hospital Orlando. I’m actually amazed: it’s a private room, with a private bathroom, a huge HD TV on the wall, and even internet access. That’s what’s making this post possible.When I asked how I rated such a room, the nurse just said, cryptically, “You had chest pains.” Apparently we chest pain types get special treatment. I keep trying not to think of how much my insurance will cover. I’m still on that COBRA insurance you can opt for when you get laid off.
I don’t have my laptop with me, but there’s web access on the huge TV. It’s cumbersome to use, what with a flexible plastic germ shield over the keyboard and a built-in mouse that makes a touchpad seem less annoying.
Anyway, it’s 6:00 AM. I’ve still been in a lot of pain. It is, as yet, undiagnosed but the left arm and shoulder pain which prompted Tuesday night’s call to 911 are still there. And they’re making me wear a nitroglycerin patch, and nitro gives me fierce, pounding headaches.
Any second now, I’ll hear the sound of heavy boots in the hallway, as my captors come to take me to the torture portion of the stress test. I had the ‘at rest’ portion last night. Piece o’ cake. It is, as the name implies, something done while lying down. But the torture part involves running on a trreadmill. And under the best of circumstances, I would be hard-pressed to do that voluntarily.
Oh, by the way, speaking of a piece o’ cake? I also found out yesterday that I’m diabetic. No more piece o’ cake for me.
So, I hope the stress test is negative, and I can go back h ome and be back to full blogging strength on Friday. Unless there’s another angioplasty in the near future.
Have a great day!