Heart, Heart

Yesterday I met with the cardiologist. The appointment went about like I expected. He seemed nice enough. He said he could hear a heart murmur in the upper right ventricle, though how he could tell where it was exactly was a mystery to me.

My brother told me last night he thought I'd always had a heart murmur, but no. I don't know where he got that idea. I'm certain if that had been the case, my doctor of over 15 years would not have declared that I have a new murmur she hadn't heard before.

The doctor ordered an echocardiogram, which I expected. The appointment is six weeks away. 

I forgot, and so did my husband, apparently, that I had a stress test about 20 years ago, when I was having a lot of chest pain that turned out to be reflux. I didn't remember until we got home, and it isn't on my personal chart at this hospital conglomerate, so I'm guessing it was before everything was put on computer. The records must be hiding in some deep dark place, never to be seen again. I wonder if I should write the doctor and tell him I remembered this. (Actually, I just checked my blog, and it was February 2009, I wrote about here.) Maybe I can just tell the folks who do the echocardiogram, now that I have an approximate date.

The doctor told me at some point I'd have to make decisions about taking a statin (I do not do well on them), blood thinners, etc., etc., and I should expect to have a heart attack. This is basically what my GP has told me for years.

Weight loss may help, but I have not been able to do that. The only time I've lost weight has been when I've had active ulcers and couldn't eat. I eat Cheerios almost every morning, but I seriously doubt that has helped my lipid levels.

Getting old is no fun. It's rather cruel, actually.