What Grandma Said

     I remember my grandma telling me, probably more than once, that it's hell getting old. Her words stuck with me as I became a senior citizen myself. But though I believe that aging through one's sixties and seventies is like walking through a minefield of increasingly scary health issues, I'd felt I'd dodged anything too serious even now in my 70s.

    Then earlier this year I began experiencing chest pain during my regular workouts at the gym. My exercise routine always begins on the treadmill, logging the same number of minutes at the same speed, at the same incline level. But soon I would feel a pain in the center of my chest. Slowing down my routine or stopping it altogether would bring relief.

    I wasn't overly concerned about it but concerned enough to mention it to my primary care physician who scheduled a stress EKG to see what was going on. The cardiac lab said the earliest appointment available was in three months. Since the cardiac people didn't see the urgency in having the procedure done, neither did I.

    So late in May I reported to the cardiac center and after a nurse injected me with dye they placed me in a chamber where they gauged how well my heart performed. Afterwards, my wife and I went to a local restaurant for breakfast.

    At the restaurant, suddenly, my wife received a call on her cell phone. We didn't recognize the phone number of the caller, so we figured it was a scam and ignored it. Then right away we got another call from the same phone number, then a third and a fourth. Altogether, we got eight calls within less than ten minutes.

    I checked the phone's call log to discover one of the calls had come from the office phone of my primary care physician. The others we assumed came from the office cell phone which is not listed in our cell phone's directory. Eight calls from my doctor in quick succession? That can't be good. I was sorry now it wasn't a scammer.

    I called the doctors' office back and they wanted me to have a virtual office visit right there? That would be awkward in a restaurant. I might be talking with the doctor about my heart issues just when the waitress comes up to ask, “Who had the biscuits and gravy with a side of bacon?”

    So we talked later. Bottom line, I flunked the stress test. There was a blockage that would require a heart catheterization and a stent. Wonderful. I had that done earlier this month.. I was obviously nervous about it. But as the nurse said I would be sedated to a kind of twilight state and wouldn't remember anything from the procedure.  Mmmmm, no.  I remembered everything and seemed quite awake.

    I heard the music being played during the procedure. You would expect something to reflect the calm and serious nature of heart surgery. Perhaps light classical with violins, or easy listening jazz piano. I'd even settle for the blues which would match my mood at the time. Instead, I heard rock 'n roll music, in fact what I would call heavy metal rock 'n roll. You know the kind of atmosphere that encourages performers to jump on stage, gyrate wildly, and sometimes smash their guitars. In other words, not the type of erratic behavior you want to encourage in an operating room. C'mon, And where was that twilight they promised?

    Then about halfway through the procedure I looked over at one medical technician sitting in front of an array of computer monitors that appeared to be tracking my heart, breathing and other vitals. But instead of watching the monitors, he was on his cell phone. Hello! They're doing delicate procedures inside my heart. Focus, sir! And where was that twilight I was promised?

    In the end, everything went well. They never did have to puncture an artery in my groin to thread the catheter, settling for my wrist instead. The medical staff didn't play air guitar, break dance or otherwise get carried away with the music. My vitals remained normal throughout. And I never got the twilight I was promised. So I was able to keep a clear mind as I thought back to grandma's words and realized what she meant when she said, “It's hell to get old.”