Totally Clipped To My Heart
Because my heart palpitations have been getting more frequent, but only at night, I saw my cardiologist last Monday. He had a collegue, an electrocardiologist, sit in on the meeting. Because the heart palpitations are infrequent, and tend to happen only at night, she recommended one of two options.
The first, which she brought up just as a possibility, was that I come into the hospital for tests. The test would consist of them artificially inducing the heart palpitations and studying them while they happen. She explained this was mostly done with people who have severe but infrequent palpitations where they think they're going to black out and die. The idea of coming into the hospital and voluntarily having severe palpitations induced, even under the watchful eye of a crash team, did not appeal to me.
The second option was to wear a heart monitor. Basically, it's a stripped down version of the Holter monitor that I'd worn before. Only two wires, which can be self-administered, and a small wireless device that I can wear on my belt which communicates and records any heart irregularities I might have to my doctors. So there's still a possibility of a tragic misunderstanding with someone who sees me trailing wires underneath my shirt, leading to to my death at the hands of overzealous NYPD (and won't that be an exciting graph for the doctors to see wirelessly transmitted to them), but it looks less like I'm trying to smuggle a tapedeck than the Holter did. Except instead of 24 hours, I'm to wear it 30 days.
As you can see, you attach the electrodes to the chest and side of your Oscar statue. Acting Awards are preferred, but in a pinch, you can substitute one of the technical awards instead. Absent either of those, you can slather Michael Chiklis in gold paint and attach it to him. Or, if you lack all that, you can attach it to yourself. Since I lack both Oscars and Chiklis, that's what I did.
If you strain really hard, I can kind of picture myself as wearing Darth Vader's chestplate. It's basically a Holter monitor, after all.
But it's hard...I'm only able to do it the same way that every roll of wrapping paper or umbrella automatically becomes a lightsaber. Which is to say, I recognize the absurdity of it all, even as I just try to get by.
Anyway, only 24 days left of wearing this thing.
The first, which she brought up just as a possibility, was that I come into the hospital for tests. The test would consist of them artificially inducing the heart palpitations and studying them while they happen. She explained this was mostly done with people who have severe but infrequent palpitations where they think they're going to black out and die. The idea of coming into the hospital and voluntarily having severe palpitations induced, even under the watchful eye of a crash team, did not appeal to me.
The second option was to wear a heart monitor. Basically, it's a stripped down version of the Holter monitor that I'd worn before. Only two wires, which can be self-administered, and a small wireless device that I can wear on my belt which communicates and records any heart irregularities I might have to my doctors. So there's still a possibility of a tragic misunderstanding with someone who sees me trailing wires underneath my shirt, leading to to my death at the hands of overzealous NYPD (and won't that be an exciting graph for the doctors to see wirelessly transmitted to them), but it looks less like I'm trying to smuggle a tapedeck than the Holter did. Except instead of 24 hours, I'm to wear it 30 days.
As you can see, you attach the electrodes to the chest and side of your Oscar statue. Acting Awards are preferred, but in a pinch, you can substitute one of the technical awards instead. Absent either of those, you can slather Michael Chiklis in gold paint and attach it to him. Or, if you lack all that, you can attach it to yourself. Since I lack both Oscars and Chiklis, that's what I did.
If you strain really hard, I can kind of picture myself as wearing Darth Vader's chestplate. It's basically a Holter monitor, after all.
But it's hard...I'm only able to do it the same way that every roll of wrapping paper or umbrella automatically becomes a lightsaber. Which is to say, I recognize the absurdity of it all, even as I just try to get by.
Anyway, only 24 days left of wearing this thing.