Just One More Thing

Just one more thing.

Really?

So on Thursday (yesterday) I went to the hospital's cardiac services division and got a Zio Patch put on by a nurse.

The tech is pretty cool. It's "a small adhesive wireless device worn on the chest for up to two weeks...[and is used] in detecting abnormal and potentially dangerous heart rhythms."

Please note that that's not me in the picture. My boobs are bigger. Also I'm a lady. Obviously.  

The doctor at my primary care office did an EKG and I have an abnormal heart rhythm.

RIGHT?!

Because I need just one more thing to deal with!

FUUUUUUCCCCCCKKKKKKKK!!!!!!!!!!

The question is, was I born with this condition and it decided to present itself now, at the age of 43, with more stress than ever...OR...is it a result of chemotherapy...??

Hopefully the test results will provide the information necessary.
So the nurse put this patch on me and I wear it for two weeks. I get to take it off on Christmas Eve. Clearly divine intervention.

Then I put the patch in a box they provided. It's addressed and the postage is paid. Which it better be since I agreed to pay the $371.81 if my insurance doesn't cover it, which they said they would, but the hospital makes everyone sign that. No pressure.

It gets mailed down to California. The company will download the data and then a cardiologist will read the results, which will be sent to my primary care doc and my chemo doc. I'll find out the results on January 11 from my primary care doc; the doc that caught my kids when they were born...and the same man who told me I had cancer on March 9, 2015. Whatever the results show, I need to hear it from him.

As an added bonus, anytime I feel my heart racing, I get to push the rather large button that is in the middle of the device, AND I write in the little booklet they gave me so that I can write down the date, time, feeling (pounding, fluttering, anxiety, stress, etc.) and the activity I was engaging in at the time.

Because you can stop whateverthefuck you're doing in the middle of doing it and write that shit down. 

Especially if I'm doing something like helping Nathan in the bathtub. 

There are 13 opportunities for me to log my data.

Thirteen. Who in the goddamn decided on 13?

You couldn't put an extra page in the booklet and give me 14? Or 15?

Not that I'm super superstitious. But, really, Stevie Wonder was on to something there.

It's already stressful enough to wear this thing for two weeks! You couldn't throw us cardiac patients a bone and even save a bit of money and do 12 pages of entries?

Just one more thing.

I didn't sleep for shit last night because I have a six-inch long, hard plastic, protruding sticker on my chest. With small pointy things going into me. Not cool.

What did the nurse say about when it flashes orange? Where's my booklet? Should I read it now? I don't want to wake Randy up; he's a light sleeper. Should I call? The nurse said the support staff at the company that makes the Zio Patch are available 24 hours a day. Should I call?

Try to sleep. On my left. On my right. On my back. Get up to pee. Again. And again. And again. Fuck it. I'm a stomach sleeper. I'm gonna give it a try.

I slept about 4 hours. I took a nap this morning. I'll take another nap this afternoon. And I'll likely go to bed not too long after the boys do at 7:30.

I'm also fighting my first post-cancer cold.

But it's just one more thing.