I got up this morning thinking of all the reasons I wanted to bail on the weigh-in and the stress test but found my self sitting in the waiting room after all. I didn't give myself the time to freak out.
Then on my way to cardiology I had to pass the girl selling baking goods. Worse for me they were mini-cherry and apple pies. I told her that if I survived the stress test I would be back so she shouldn't go anywhere. The look she gave me confirmed just how dire the situation was for me.
I felt bad for the poor pretty nursing student who had to shave my chest (with multiple blades) so that the sensors fit in the right spots to take optimum readings. She seemed okay with it and TRUST ME I was reading her body language for any sign of her discomfort. She was the consummate professional.
The girl working the blood pressure and treadmill was also very attractive. These hospitals dress these girls in pajamas - cute, colorful and comfortable pajamas. It doesn't help the situation that I just want to relax with her on a couch. I felt very relaxed because she had funny banter. I really didn't feel like some fat schlub.
For nine minutes I worked that treadmill to hit 85% of my max heart rate. Like a dog I worked but I didn't want to fail. I wish I could have fully understood what my foreign doctor had told me but I doubt his one minute interaction was all that medically insightful.
Is 110/70 a good blood pressure? They keep taking it multiple times like I somehow defy medical expectations. But any good news these days makes the day to day living so much easier.