STRESSED OUT

Ya-HOO! I think I'm going to make it, after all. Remember the heart monitor I had to wear for 25 days? The one that I actually only wore for 18 days? Well, today was another heart test... a nuclear stress test. And, THIS test didn't take days, either. It took hours. As in: 3. And, it begins mighty early, if you ask me. As in: be there by 8:30 a.m. Oh yeah... you have to stop eating and/or drinking at midnight the night before. Now THERE'S a possible problem, if ever there was one. Good bye midnight snack. Good bye midnight drink. Additionally, good bye morning snack and morning drink. Have any idea how much I could drink AND eat between 12 and 8? Especially during some of those middle of the night bathroom runs. Anyway, the test is kinda simple. Well, most of it is, anyway. After they inject you with some sort of dye, you then have to have images of your heart before and after stress. And just how might you beCOME stressed?? Uh... by FAST WALKING. Fast walking AT AN INCLINE, no less. And... its gets faster and incline-ier as the test proceeds. Apparently, they like to see your heart REALLY racing. Trust me... mine did. At one point, in fact, I had to sort of tell them... uh, no. That's WAY too fast. Let alone steep. But... the good news is I made it up to my targeted heart rate, whatever that was, and I pulled through with flying colors. I must say... the people in the cardiologist's office were as nice as they could be, too. What WASN'T so nice is the bathroom they want you to use, given you had to also drink 3 cups of water. More water than I've had in 3 months, I might add. Anyway, they point you to the rest room.... except, get this... the rest room has one of those freaky disability toilet tops that rests upon the REAL toilet. EEEKS. So not my style. I ALmost began to sit upon it, but whew. My better judgement kicked in 1-2-3 and I said NO WAY. I'm finding ANOTHER toilet for my sweet little tush, thank you very much. I told the staff it was way too creepy for me, hence, find me another, please. They did, so mission accomplished, and boom. I was happy as a little lark. Actually I was even happier when they brought me juice and peanut butter crackers for a snack. Man, that tasted good. Of course it DOES make one wonder. If the heart is fine, then what's the deal with the tainted peanut butter that was probably recalled? I'm eating poison, but doing so with an excellent heart? When the doctor calls to give me the good news of my results... I may have to tell her... uh... you may want to rethink your snack program there. Afterall, if we're all making such fine progress with her fine medical attention, why do us in with her peanut butter crackers? Geez... I almost smell possible medical malpractice.