This morning I was on my way to work when I pulled the car over, called my principal and let her know I would not be in to work because I was not feeling at all well. I went home. Mr. Lime returned from his place of employ and then we went to my doctor's because my heart was galloping along like a Triple Crown winner and driving was exhausting. It was disconcerting to say the least. My doctor indicated that I was not to pass Go or collect $200 but instead I was to hustle myself off to the cardiologist's office. As if I didn't think my pulse was already quickened sufficiently that little extra kick of adrenalin nudged it ever higher such that if my ticker were a thoroughbred a few bucks placed on my little pony would have yielded nicely in lieu of the Monopoly salary.
While sitting in the cardiologist's office gasping for breath and feeling my heart trying to pound out of my chest I gazed around and realized the mean age of my fellow patients was close to double my own. I whispered to Mr. Lime that it was making me feel damned old. His word of comfort was, "But honey, YOU are the hottie in the room." Great! So compared to octogenarians I am hot. Wheeee! In truth it made me laugh and I did need that.
What came next, as I continued to ponder my own mortality I could have done without. A little old lady made her way toward me and invited me to read a little pamphlet she had explaining how I could be sure I was going to heaven when I died. She offered said pamphlet with the words, "We don't know how much time we have left." Thanks, sister. I'm blessed. (insert audible eye roll)
Seriously, I'm creative but even I can't make this shit up. I was glad Mr. Lime was there to witness it and share the absurdity. He's also the calmer counterpart to my more easily riled personality so he (along with my berzerk heart rate) had a restraining influence on me.
In the end it turns out my heart is just dandy (couldn't be finer, in fact) but it was using rapid fire Morse code to let me know my thyroid is going ape shit. I was given some meds to bring my heart to a normal rate until I can get to an endocrinologist to figure out the wacky thyroid. It is suspected that the stuff I take to prevent migraines may have masked the symptoms of hyperthyroidism for a while.
So how was your Friday?