My trip to the Cardiologist

Good Morning,

In case you were wondering where I was all morning yesterday (I’m sure you were not), I was at the Cardiologist’s office. I have had major chest pain ever since I joined the awesome yet creepy MILF gym, and was worried I might be dying (as per usual). The Doc was concerned so ran every test imaginable on my poor body. Including but not limited to drawing my blood, hooking me up to electrodes, a heart sonogram (it’s not pregnant) and my favorite… the treadmill stress test, a worst nightmare for women everywhere.

First of all, this doctor could’ve been out of Saturday Night Live. Sometimes I thought he was serious, but then he would laugh. Then he would crack (what I thought was) a joke, and then say, “No. I’m serious.” He was so interested in my mystery heart condition that he invited a couple more doctors to watch my stress test and asked them to weigh in. 

I had my work outfit on because it was a Wednesday morning and was instructed to take everything off but my (high-waisted) pants. They brought me some dingy men’s size 10  running shoes to put on, and I did as I was told. I’m sitting there, in this chair; with high-waisted pants on, men’s tennis shoes, and a completely bare chest under mockingly bright flourescent lighting.

The doctors were too busy looking at charts and beeping screens to pay attention to my mortifying state, but I wanted to die. The nurse came in with more electrodes and stuck about 10 all over my chest and shoulders and asked if I could unzip and roll my pants down so she could stick some on my stomach. She then hooked these electrodes up to a series of wires connected to the treadmill.
So not only am I bare chested in a bright room with 5 doctors, but I’m hooked up to wires connected to a treadmill with my stomach and the top half of my panties hanging out. I felt like I was in some futuristic fetish porn just waiting for a burly spaceman to come in and take his clothes off, too.
I’m sure you can guess what happened next… As if it couldn’t get any worse, I was asked to mount the treadmill and start jogging. As a courtesy, the nurse draped a gown around my neck, but it couldn’t shield the image of my not-that-small chest bouncing off my chin and the walls. I’ve never ran without a sports bra let alone no bra at all. It’s not a good feeling and it’s definitely not a good look.
They had to get my heart rate up to 180 BPM. That is 100 more BPM than a resting heart rate. It took 12 minutes. 12 excruciating minutes.
After sonograming my heart again, the doctor said, “Well this confirms what I thought.”… All of that for a formality. I couldn’t sleep on my stomach last night and have to take tiny steps as to not disturb my lovely lady humps because of a formality. Awesome.
He concluded that I was in good shape and had a “good strong heart” but need to come in once a year because of a tiny piece of scar tissue in one of my valves. I think I’m going to take the risk and not do that again ever.
Four hours, five doctors and countless tests later they found a harmless piece of scar tissue in my heart. My dignity, however, is still at large.
Preferring conversation over cardiovascular,


*The picture above is not me, it’s a man. Although it looks like we might be the same cup size.



Filed under Bianca

13 responses to “My trip to the Cardiologist

  1. I had my triple by-pass in 2006after a week of little baby heart attacks, We now do these test once a year. It is worth the inconvenience. Just look around and see all the people you love and decide if you would like to see them at lot fore often for a lot more time. I am 61 so the days left are certainly evaporating. In the meantime that sausage and bacon crap has to go. The fast food cheese burgers gotta go(I cheat CB’s once or twice a month).Pepperoni on the pizza real no-no. Real Italians don’t eat pizza that way anyway(mushroom, black olive, zucchini). The exercise, quit the cigarettes(I am down to 12 a day) and lay off the booze. There are a gazillion other pleasureful things to have and do so these very few modifications won’t be missed at all. At least women don’t have to have your chest shaved(I hope not) when they put the sticky things on. Then for two months you kook like you have plague or something and no babes at the pool will give you the time of day.



    I’M SORRY.

    That sounds awful…yet I’m still laughing.


  3. The picture: those could be my boobs. I’m creeped out.
    Your dr’s visit: holy shit!!! a regular physical is bad enough… treat yourself to a drink or a manicure or something. You’re a trooper!

  4. Good god. You’d think a doctor would know better than to make a woman run with her lady lumps all flapping in the wind. That shit HURTS. That’s exactly why sports bras were invented!!

  5. Okay… I’m just gonna say what everyone else is thinking but doesn’t want to say. The 5 guys in the room just wanted to see you run with your top off. (I know they’re just doctors and a body is just a body to them and blah blah blah…. But the SECOND you said you had to get on a treadmill and they didn’t have you put your shirt on or at least cover up? Puh-lease.

    You should’ve made them tip you before you left. Just sayin’…
    (But I’m glad your heart is okay 🙂 )

  6. Omg. Omg. Omg. That’s all I can say. Omg.

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