It’s 18:11 and I’m sitting in the ED of Royal Darwin Hospital because apparently my body likes the drama!
My exercise session today (my DAILY exercise session) was cut short by stabbing pains smack bang on my heart. They lasted a good 15-20 minutes, and then went away.
Upon the strict advice of my husband, I made a doctors appointment, which has landed me here, waiting for a doctor and an ECG.
I am feeling quite hysterical at the moment, and think I may soon start rolling around the floor in uncontrollable laughter. Seriously! How does a daily step session on a healthy 28 year old lead to visit to the Hospital?
I probably wouldn’t be feeling quite so ridiculous if I hadn’t been up here last month with some still undiagnosed lady problem (horrid ovulation and period pain). I must look like the biggest drama queen on the planet, and I’m not I swear!
Besides I really can’t be bothered having another random medical issue. Said lady problem has made me a pin cushion and the victim of a dildo-esque internal ultrasound (the lady asked me if I was happy to have it. Seriously? Who would joyfully anticipate that!) so I really don’t want anything else. And if it weren’t for Boatman insisting, I would have quite happily buried my head in the sand and pretended it never happened.
Cause that’s how I roll.
Add to my building hysteria (I nearly lost it a minute ago when the triage man-nurse took my blood pressure) is the fact that I had to grab takeaway on the way here, which seems a completely preposterous thing to do when your about to have your heart checked.
So I skipped the chips and just had the burger, and walked into ED with my DIET Coke.
Also at the time of crazy heart happenings, I was watching season 2 of Grey’s Anatomy on DVD, (on which they totally overuse the word Seriously), and of course they were performing heart surgery.
I wouldn’t be at all suprised if McDreamy walked out the door right now and added to my complete drama queen embarrassment.
I’m really not dressed for Mc Dreamy right now.
That face is the face of my hysteria. And trying not to let the chick behind me seeing I’m photographing myself in the waiting room.
I’m here on my own because dinner time is not a great moment to bring 4 kids to a place where they need to wait for hours. But boatman just texted me and my mum is at home to watch the kids so he will be here soon.
I think that’s a good thing. He can calm me down, but also, he is much better looking than Mc Dreamy.
Update: it’s 2100 hours and I’m at home. Crisis is averted and I live to blog another day with the wonderful diagnosis of muscular-skeletal chest pain, and a letter that let’s me skip the waiting room if it happens again.
My hysteria eventually settled with Boatmans arrival, but it did stay long enough for me to vlog in the toilets.