I forget exactly who said it, or for that matter the exact quote: Something to the effect that discussions of one's health are only ever fascinating to one's self. All others are more or less intrigued in direct proportion to their affection for you, and in inverse proportion to their propensity towards the same illness. And if nobody ever said that, I claim it as mine herewith.
So, here are a couple of blog posts about my recent pas de deux with the current American Healthcare System, New England Variant. Please feel free to skip over the boring and/or technical bits, and jump to the juicy parts where snarks are let loose or the infirm are mocked. I shall try to make those the preponderance.
IN THE BEGINNING
So, no secret that all of the classic warning signs were there. Heart disease on both sides of the family? Check. Both grandfathers dead at relatively early ages? Check (Maternal Grandfather prior to age 50? Check-plus). Father with a history going back 20+ years, including the usual suspects: angina, shortness of breath, angiogram, multiple angioplasties, followed by a quad CABG in about 1989 or so, several episodes since, culminating in a coronary event, Life-Flight and implanting of a pacer about 2 years ago? Uh, check.
I certainly didn't help. Smoked since age 18, never particularly cared to watch what I ate, drank or otherwise ingested (until the metabolism slammed into low gear in my mid-30's and "The Gut" started to appear. At which point I still didn't much care, I just knew that now I was supposed to care about it.)
So, this is not one of those
"She was lively, vivacious girl who had no earthly clue what lay in store for her that night at the Frat Party"type of stories. And there go about half of my readers. See y'all later in the gift shop!
stay tuned for Part the Second, in which our Hero has to make a choice - is this really a heart attack, or just an overreaction to stories of trouble in the Mel Gibson household?