I may feel like absolute poop on a stick (there’s an image fer ya) but at least, for now, it seems I have dodged riding an exercise bike with a wire in my heart. I hate to be one to settle, but I can pass this one up at the moment. I got the paper explaining (well, it actually explained absolutely jack) the test I’m waiting on at the Brigham. I suppose I’m waiting for is the wonderful expertise and boatloads of imaging technology that’ll have to be on standby… I fear I’m just waiting because of an outside chance any of those things are required.
I guess the cardiopulmonary stress test I am getting is a full tilt one, focusing on PPL. I guess it looks at direct and indirect oxygen levels and other metabolic crap and how heart rate will make that change. Ppl is actually I guess the going theory of what they’re focusing in on, which is intrapleural pressure. Know how I said I feel like my lungs work fine, like I could usually bust into song (not always, not as much lately, as I feel pretty damned hoarse), but that my chest doesn’t like to move? I mean, it does, but it doesn’t. Evidently, there’s the real possibility I’m not a total idiot.
I guess they can sorta see that stuff on an echo, but it’s not easy to tell unless there’s huge amounts of damage or if it’s all watery. I have no idea if they have a stronger reason to suspect that moreso than… I dunno… some other P based acronym. I suspect they do based on my neurological, tumorific and generally stiff history, as things that cause this (like histiocytosis and immune crap and neuroendocrine and all sorts of you don’t want it proliferative stuff can make this happen in any number of ways… tumors, blood, lymph, you name it, it’ll mess with your heart and lung communication.)
So anyway, I’m glad I’m not getting a wire stuck in my heart and then forced on to a bike. What does that mean when learning that constitutes a good day? Holy Jeebus.