The first test they decided was necessary was a blood test, which would have been fine, but I really. hate. needles. Thankfully the nurse was lovely and I managed to get through it, only to find out that my iron level was significantly lower than what it ought to be. My doctor had a small eureka moment, and decided that was to blame for my palpitations, but sent me for an ECG just in case.
After a whole month or so long episode of my GP and the hospital losing my report in translation several times over, a copy finally arrived that said cardiology wanted to do some more testing. Oh, and since I'd finished the iron supplement tablets I had been on, could I please have another blood test?
I was all 'it'll be fine' until just before they were about to stick me with the needle, at which point I turned into nothing more than chicken manure *exchange for the ever popular, yet vulgar insult you all know and love* and was convince I couldn't do it. Little voice in my head goes - do what? You sit there and hold your arm out. What precisely do you have to do?, but I, of course, didn't listen and proceeded to say Sod it to Keep Calm and Carry On, and went straight for panic station at the ready. I'm sure the show was hilarious.
So that lead me to another ECG - which I find really weird if I'm entirely honest. I guess I just don't understand people when they say 'and relax' and expect that those words are going to bring you to a relaxed state. Also, I'm a naturally nervous person. I'm not sure if I've ever encountered this thing you call 'relax' and if I have, I can't identify it - but this time I got another test thrown in for free, and got to have an ultrasound scan of my heart, too. It's a boy, hence it's lazy and sometimes a little slow. (I jest, I joke...)
And with all that coming up clean, the last resort is to stick me to a monitor for 48 hours and see if anything crops up.
We woke up at seven this morning to get to the hospital for nine, and it took less than five minutes for them to attach the monitor, give me the paper work and a few instructions - thankfully they also gave me spare connector pads, because my skin has already had a reaction to one of them! I'm still really glad that Ben came with me though, because I was not feeling awesome this morning. If you think they are lying when they say that asthmatics ought to stay in doors, you are wrong - believe me.
The monitor thing is like lugging around a 90s Nokia brick, but for some reason, if I have it in my pocket, I think I have my phone (subsequently leaving the phone in another room) and then I wonder why it's not gone off for a while. Suffice it to say, my acquaintance with the bloody thing has got off to a rocky start, at best, and I've got to find some way to get to sleep with it on. I have a feeling this is going to be a fun night.
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