I’m Just Sayin’

I know I have been MIA lately, but I have a good excuse, really I do! Here’s a quick run-down.

• Faint in the street in Soho, awkward crowd assembles around me. I overhear “OMG, she’s breathing!” and a scruffy looking man asks if I have had too much to drink.
• Ambulance arrives, EMT wants to know why my pupils are so big. Realizes when I faint again that I’m not just having a bad trip.
• Downtown New York Hospital, lots of tests, lots of prodding, rude doctors. I check myself out against their advice, pick up some hummus and go home to watch Entourage.

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The Tilt Table Test is nowhere near as fun as this kid makes it look.

• Follow up with GP called Dr. Champagne. He apologizes for his casual attire, he likes to dress down on Saturdays. Refers me to see a cardiologist.
• More tests. I am the youngest person in the office by 30 years. I overhear the doctor referring to me as “the young girl.”
• Cardiologist is perplexed, orders a Tilt Table Test. I get strapped in. Blood pressure drops but I don’t faint. They put nitroglycerin under my tongue. I faint and dream like I’m tripping.
• I have Vasovagal Syncope, i.e. faint when I am upset, see blood, get strapped to a table and suspended at a 70 degree angle. EKG is slightly abnormal too, need to test for Brugada Syndrome.
• Google Brugada Syndrome, it is also called Sudden Expected Death Syndrome. I freak out, start a bucket list.

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• Beth Israel Cardiac Intervention Dept, this time I am the youngest by 40 years. Get prepped and draw blood, I faint again. The man on the other side of the curtain pees all over, including on the doctor in black ninja scrubs.
• Doctor says he is giving me a drug that will cause my heart to go into a erratic rhythm if I have Brugada. He makes me sign a waiver and starts the drip. I wait. Nothing happens. He says I’m fine and gives me some orange juice. I eat french fries for lunch and go back to work.

But hey, so no hard feelings about my absence?

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