Over the past 71 years I’ve undergone several medical procedures. None (knock on wood) have ever discovered anything serious. I’ve never been a big risk taker so I think that has helped me maintain my health. I’m overweight but have never smoked. I’d identify myself as being in good health (knock again).
Last week I shared the story with my grandson of three electrocardiograms that I’ve had over the years. I shared them because I thought they were unique. As I tell my tale to you, see what you think. I’m throwing in a story about a stress test just for comic relief.
One afternoon during my time as an elementary school principal in Addison, I started having chest pains. I drove myself to my doctor who had an office close by and he immediately placed me on an exam table and began an EKG. While I was undergoing the procedure, a nurse entered the room and asked it I had a blue suburban. “Yes”, I replied, as the paper continued to chart my heart.
“Someone has just run into your vehicle in our parking lot.”
“Is this part of the test?”, I asked.
Turns out it wasn’t part of the test. My suburban did get hit but the damage was minimal.
As for my heart, it was A – OK. Although the doctor never mentioned it, I assume that I had heartburn from the school lunch served that day.
A few years later I was the superintendent at Britton-Macon. One of my perks/requirements was to get an annual physical. Everyone wanted to insure that I was of sound mind and body.
The night before one of my physicals I watched an episode of 60 Minutes. A portion of the show centered on unnecessary, and duplicated, medical tests that doctors were performing as a means of boosting their income. I jokingly cited the 60 Minutes expose’ as I began my physical the next afternoon. “Let’s not do anything unnecessary, or perform anything twice, just to make a buck.” The technician, the doctor and I all had a good laugh.
Almost immediately, they set up the machine for my EKG. Just as quickly as the test began, the machine broke. As they reset the machine and restarted the procedure I heard several familiar voices in the hall. My wife, Ruth, and two youngest children, Michael and Elizabeth were speaking with a nurse about a car accident that the two kids had just experienced. When I realized what was happening I wondered again, “Is this a part of the test?”
It wasn’t. Elizabeth and Michael had been in two different cars. Elizabeth was a lone driver in one car, and Michael was a back seat passenger in a second car. The driver of Michael’s car decided that it would be “funny” to “tag” Elizabeth’s car traveling at a speed of over 40 mph. Turns out it wasn’t funny. Elizabeth’s car went into a series of 360 degree spins. The driver of Michael’s car lost control. The vehicle went off the road, flipped, did two end over end cart-wheels, and landed in a field.
I listened to this excited explanation while hooked up to the EKG. Fortunately everyone was alright and my EKG determined that my heart was functioning normally.
A year or two later I was back in the office for another physical and EKG. This one was scheduled for the morning before anything horrible would have time to develop. I wanted to get in and out early in the day. I reminded everyone of my two prior traumatic experiences and implored them to avoid any such incidents during this test. Everything went very smoothly and I was soon on my way to work.
When I arrived in Britton, the business manager came out the front door to meet me. This was a first so I knew something was amiss. She proceeded to tell me that one of our school buses had rolled over into a ditch on one of our many dirt roads. Everyone was fine and a second bus had already picked up everyone and they were all in class. Parents had been called and a couple had taken their children home for the day. The bus, however, was still in the ditch.
I drove out to the crash site. It was a cold, wintry morning and wind blew harshly across an open field. I got out of my car, walked towards the site, and was surprised to see two television helicopters circling the area. One had channel 7 (Detroit) emblazoned on its side and the second was marked with a 10 (Toledo). The whoop, whoop, whoop of the helicopter blades and the howling of the wind were the only sounds.
The bus driver and transportation director approached me and explained that the bus was stopped, sitting on the icy crowned, dirt road, and just slid to one side into the ditch. The bus was lying on its side. There was no sign of damage. The rear emergency door was open. Two of the older boys on board had helped the driver get everyone out safely.
As they finished their account a microphone was stuck in my face. “How could this happen? How do you feel? What are you going to do?”
I wanted to tell the reporter to #$%# but I didn’t. We answered questions and everyone lived happily ever after. My third EKG had confirmed my still strong heart and life went on.
A couple of more years went by and one evening, after work, on our way out to dinner, I pulled over and asked Ruth to drive me to the hospital. I didn’t feel right. They examined me and decided that while they thought everything was OK, I should spend the night and have a stress test in the morning. Heck, I was the superintendent of a school district. I had a stress test every morning. I stayed anyway.
The next day Ruth brought a pair of athletic shoes and shorts for me to wear during the test. She arrived just as the medical crew arrived to take me to the exam. “Just put on the shoes. You’ll be fine in the hospital pants.” So off we went.
If you’ve never taken a stress test you’ll be surprised to learn that they hook you up to a series of electrodes all over your chest. The electrodes measure the strain put on your heart during the exam. They put you on a tread mill, you start walking, and over a brief period of time the pace of the treadmill increases. As the pace increases the front of the treadmill rises. The increased speed, coupled with the incline increase, causes you to work harder. What starts out as a casual walk in the park transforms into a run for your life up a mountain. Your hands once swinging by your side, ultimately form a death grip on the handle of the machine. If you don’t hold on, you’ll fly off the back. You feel like you’re running on a 90 degree angle even though they tell you its only 85.
There were three people in the room – a female technician about 50 years old, the doctor, and me.. The tech runs the machine. The doctor is on hand to read the chart as it spits out a report. I am the one running for my life.
As the machine reached its full speed, and the incline had achieved its maximum height, my hospital pants fell off. They landed on the floor of the treadmill and gathered around my ankles. Mister Johnson and his two friends were waving at my two companions. The technician did her best to slow the machine, the doctor started laughing and taking pictures with his cell phone, and I looked and felt like a penguin running up a wall. I was taking penguin steps at about 100 miles per hour, trying not to fall.
I passed the test.
Every six months I do a Google search and check eBay to make sure that the doctor’s pictures have not been posted for sale. I believe that they have to wait until seven years after I am declared legally dead before they can be sold. (Knock on wood.)