So one minute I’m hearing that 50 is the new 40, and the next minute I’m popping pills like a junkie. This is too weird. I hadn’t had a physical in a few years (let’s say) and this new doctor decides to give me a stress test. I think it was because I mentioned chest pains (maybe). I took the test and failed miserably. So then they’re running a tube up my vein (I’ll leave out the entry point for those with weak stomachs) and they’re taking X-rays of my ticker. It was not a pretty sight. I had an ultrasound hooked up to my toe, for some strange reason – it sounded like sonar detecting an enemy sub. Fortunately, I didn’t have to stay the night in the hospital. Unfortunately, I have to meet with the doctor again on Monday to talk about a possible bypass. Don’t that “beat” all?
