I told me so

Yesterday I got to work and after plowing through emails, and decided I probably should call the consulting nurse about Saturday night's symptoms.

I knew they'd tell me to go into Urgent Care. As I called, it was easy to predict the future.

I told the CN about my symptoms. She talked to an ER MD, and said "If this ever happens again, call 911. Now, get into Urgent Care."

As if I'd call 911. As if I could tolerate emergency vehicles pulling up to my house and causing distress to my neighbors. I'd consider it if they came in an unmarked minivan and quietly knocked at the door. Or if my husband drove me to the temporary fire station up on Greenwood.

So I asked a coworker to drive me to Capitol Hill. I called my husband and asked him to meet me there. My coworker and I got into a car with a dead battery. Another coworker was pulling out, and I caught a ride with him.

I checked in and as I gave my information, the receptionist called someone and said "chest pains". That ratcheted things up a bit. I thought about saying "But they're old chest pains!"

I was taken to an exam room, unceremoniously traded my shirt and bra for a gown, hooked up to an EKG machine, blood pressure cuff and finger thingy simultaneously by a number of RNs, who left when they were done with my body and as quickly as they'd arrived.

My husband showed up. My anxiety dropped and my depression blossomed. "This is exactly why I didn't want to make any noise about my symptoms", I told him as I lay there with those annoyingly stickly EKG post-its on my legs and chest.

Someone knocked at the door. "Who is it?", I asked. I was curious what the response would be. There was a pause. "Susie, the nurse." "Come in."

I figured if I had to be there, I could screen who got to come into my exam room, even if that meant anyone who knocked.

Another RN came in and asked my about my medications. She rattled them off. "Yes." "Yes." "Yes."

"All of them," I finally said. I realized I felt bad about all the meds I'm on right now, as if I'm a basket case.

I got comments on my henna tattoo. Susie asked "Is having henna tattoos common?" When I told her no, she then asked "Are you gonna keep that look?"

Now, that was an interesting question. I was surprised. As if I'd choose to be bald.

During the couple of hours we waited between consultation with the ER MD, an xray of my chest, a blood draw, I realized that part of the reason I'd not called when I first had the symptoms was I wanted some control over what's happening to me. That would also explain why I'd cancelled a number of elective appointments, such as with a Naturopath who was going to talk to me about meditation and the physical therapist who was going to learn I haven't been doing my exercises.

I'm sick of cancer treatment and its minions.

We left Urgent Care with the news that there was nothing wrong with me. I could have told them that. I told me so before I called.