Hello, neglected blog readers! We are still here, just not getting here as much as I'd like to be.
My exciting news from last week is that I am not dying. Last Monday I had this serious chest pain that extended from my heart to my shoulder. It went away and kept coming back so I thought it was just that I had pulled a muscle. On the advice of a nurse Nestie who saw me mention chest pain and feared I might be having some heart problems, I called my doctor and they got me in for an appointment. Thursday morning I had my first EKG, which was normal. They gave me a blood test. They sent me off for a leg ultrasound that afternoon to rule out any clotting/stroke issues. Ultrasound was normal. I was thinking I was scot free and putting on my makeup to attend Kim J's baby shower when my doctor called and told me to rush to the ER, as my blood test for inflamation had come back elevated and there was a risk of a blood clot in my lungs.
Um, for the record, if your doctor calls you into the ER mentioning the words CHEST PAIN and potential clotting, you don't have to wait for 3 hours to get in. You are put in a wheelchair and admitted and hooked up immediately. I was FREAKING.OUT. I've been watching way too many Grey's Anatomy episodes lately where someone goes in for something that should be easily treatable and they wind up dying in some dramatic way with blood spurting out all over the place. Because of JM, I also had to drive myself to the hospital admitting myself alone totally building up my anxiety in my head and almost making myself pass out with worry. And, did I mention that I am a total hypochondriac and glass half empty-type of person? Thankfully, my mom and Art and Peter came over and stayed with JM, so that Mike could come be with me and calm me down (which he did, love him).
Anyway, a battery of tests later and it was an exciting evening in the ER. My 2nd blood test came back normal. Why it was elevated 5 hours before and then normal later, my doctor couldn't say. Sure enough, I was fine. All that build-up and wondering if I was having a heart attack, stroke or something else and sure enough, I had really just pulled a muscle, after all! It was a lot of rigamarole, but it makes me especially glad to be a healthy 33 year-old! Let's hope there are no more trips to the ER anytime, soon!