Friends of Dave #426: 🗣️ more doing nothing 😎
The Life Changing Call -- The Stress Test
Heads up Friends: resuming the preamble journey for the next few weeks. If you missed it, here was Part 1 from last week (thanks for the texts and emails!) — on to the next chapter below. Keep sticking with it — this one is a longer one, but I wanted to get it closer to some resolution this week. I promise there will be a payoff.
Part 2
My mind started to race….
Should I have my wife come home?
What do I tell my teenage son?
Who is going to be with him if I get admitted to the hospital overnight?
And what was causing the wheezing? She never told me that.
How will my Mom, who was across the country in Arizona with my Dad, react to the news?
Why is Dr. Finger Guns such a d-bag?
Of all things, we were planning to go watch my nephew (my younger sister’s son) play in a high school state championship playoff soccer game that night a few towns away from us.
Quickly I rationalized a plan – as luck would have it the soccer game was about a mile from the hospital.
I called my wife and told her the situation. At first, she thought I was messing with her – getting her back for the Finger Guns needling. Then, when she could tell this was for real, she started looking into possible ways to get home. Nothing looked possible until the following day.
My younger son would go with me to watch the game and I would then go straight to hospital afterward, with either my 22 year old son or my sister taking my younger son after the game.
It was pretty weird – there I was, feeling like crap and having trouble breathing, cheering on my nephew, worried about my family, and unsure what I was in for when I got to the hospital later. My older son arrived around half time.
“You CANNOT tell Mom and Dad,” I told my sister.
We are a close family and my mother is a BIG worrier. There was nothing my parents could do from three quarters the way across the country (they were at their winter place in Arizona) and I kept telling myself this could end being no big deal. My sister promised she’d keep things under wraps until I got more information.
Meanwhile, the soccer game was an exciting one.
Coming into the match, my nephew’s team was a huge underdog and they were playing really well. The action went back and forth through regulation time and ended with a score of 1-1….then it went to overtime and remained tied. They went to penalty kicks….and STILL remained tied.
I kept sneaking glances at my phone for the time, but how could I leave?
With the stadium buzzing and absolutely no regard for my heart rate or medical condition, they went to sudden death penalty kicks……and, finally, at around 10pm that night, my nephew’s team ended up losing the game to the higher ranked, widely favored home team.
In my entire life, this may have been top 2 or 3 of the most exciting sporting events I had ever attended live. Needless to say, if this was the last one I would ever see, it was a good one.
After giving my nephew a consoling pat on the back, I hugged my sister and then each of my two sons, and then got in the car to drive myself to the hospital.
As I drove away, I couldn’t help but glance in my rearview mirror wondering what state I would be in the next time I saw them….
I parked my car in the hospital emergency lot around 10:30pm – no less than 6 hours after my cellphone initially buzzed with the directive from the esteemed office of Dr. Finger Guns.
Friends, one thing I have learned from raising four kids through their teenaged years (and many of you can affirm): we all can have our own idea of how to define the word “immediately.”
In my mind, I was just conveniently invoking the same logic my kids happen to use when we ask them to empty the dishwasher or take out the trash.
The emergency waiting room was busy but not packed – I checked in, told them my situation, and they immediately took my blood pressure and asked if I had any acute chest pain or distress (NOTE: this would be a running theme for the next 12 hours or so).
When it was clear I was okay, they told me to sit and wait – it would be a few hours before I was seen by a doctor.
It was almost 1am when they finally called my name. I was escorted to a gurney in a hallway inside the large emergency facility…get my blood pressure and vital signs checked….and sit there for another 2 hours…
First thing I noticed — while there was a lot of bustling around, no one seemed to be in any hurry to help me or anyone else stationed in the hallway. Second thing I noticed — everyone, doctors and nurses walking by, were much younger than me and all covered with tattoos.
Finally around 3am, a very nice nurse with full arm tattoo sleeves gets me up to bring me to another area that wasn’t a hallway….to take my blood pressure and vital signs again and draw blood….There she informs me that I will have to wait there, hooked up to a heart monitor, until the doctor comes in around 7am to run me through a stress test and a more detailed heart scan.
I then spent the next few hours half sleeping/half staring blankly at the ceiling, wheezing and occasionally coughing and wondering how I got there in the first place. I finally saw who I thought was a doctor around 6am.
She was young, the least tattooed person I saw all night. She was serious, spoke fast and with an accent — I would be sent for a bunch of tests including having to run on a treadmill. If any of them showed a critical issue with my heart, I would have to be admitted for immediate procedure. The decision would be made by the cardiologist on duty and head of ER later that day. Her tone was direct and actually quite grave.
As I got prepped for the battery of tests and what could lie ahead, I messaged people at work to let them know I was going to be out of commission for at least that day….the sudden turn of all of this definitely earned a few “WTFs” and “🙏” emojis. I also texted my wife with the update and details — she would come home if things trended toward them admitting me.
Friends, the rest of the morning was a blur. EKGs, MRIs, more blood pressure readings and blood taking all leading up to me having to walk and run on a treadmill until I thought I was going to pass out. No one seemed to be worried about my wheezing and coughing.
After getting a final ultrasound and meeting with a young cardiologist who I was convinced also happened to be a graduate of the Finger Guns Institute of Medicine, I was brought to a nicer “recovery room” to wait for the results…..
At around noon, after a few hours of waiting, thinking, wheezing and ruminating, I was told I needed to be transferred from the recovery room to a hospital bed….still no prognosis, but there was a good chance I was going to be admitted to the hospital for ANOTHER night…
Without a lot of firm answers or details, I called my wife to let her know. She was on her way back home. I texted my sister — who assured me she had spoken to no one. I made my older son aware so he could take my younger son to his after school activities.
24 hours before, I thought I just needed antibiotics….
I was wheeled to a private hospital room where a nurse closer to my age, with maybe just one little tattoo on her wrist, soon entered. She explained that the doctors were still analyzing my various test results, which were “inconclusive.” This is why they may need to monitor me further — and all of this was awaiting approval by hospital management.
As she read the notes and looked at various blood pressure readings on my record and talked to me, she wondered aloud why I was there. I seemed fine and not in distress. Nothing from the battery of tests they ran clearly revealed a serious, immediate cardiac situation. I just seemed like I was having trouble breathing….
She checked with an attending doctor. They were recommending that I go home. False alarm. The initial test, as Dr. Finger Guns said might happen, appeared to have been a false positive….she just needed confirmation and get official sign off so I could leave.
And just like that, I was going to be a free man once they got final word…the nurse tells me it could be within the next 30 minutes.
I sat on the hospital bed tired, emotionally spent, wheezing but elated that this was just a lot hand wringing.
It seemed that I was not going to die any time soon. Big sigh of relief.
Then….my cellphone rings….
It’s my Dad. He never calls me…my sister had to have said something to my Mom and he was checking in on her behalf….
“Hey Dave, how are you doing?”
“Uh…good Dad…who have you spoken to?” I asked.
“Not sure what you mean…..” he said confused.
“Well, it’s funny you should ask,” I reported trying to sound upbeat. “You are never going to believe this….I happen to be sitting on a hospital bed right now…..I’m okay but it has been a long night…”
“Wow…..” I heard him pull the phone away and tell my Mom that I was in the hospital. I heard her gasp and start to cry.
“Dave….uh…weird thing is….I’m in the hospital right now too…I’ve got a few things I wanted to share with you....”
Friends, remember when I told you last week that in early November 2023 I received a call that would change my life?
THIS was the call.
TO BE CONTINUED……..
XOXO
Dave
And now a few things to make you smarter…
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