Since my heart attack, there has been a red circle around the three month mark. It’s not much of an anniversary, but it’s the time that the doctors make their more-or-less final damage assessment. The date is somewhat arbitrary (something about a federally-assigned window), but there is general agreement that testing before that wouldn’t reliably show the difference between permanent and stun damage.
Yesterday, my calendar emailed me a reminder that the big test was today and it freaked me out a bit. Since the heart attack, I’ve noticed that I feel anxiety differently. I can’t describe it, but it has a physical component to it now that can add an extra level of fear to the mix. The reminder about the MUGA scan had me on edge and it took a good chunk of the day to shake it. I knew this was it… the big test that says whether that initial 20-25% regional damage number holds… the test that determines whether or not a defibrillator will become part of my life… the test that reminds me just how lucky I was to survive this thing… and from there it is easy to wander to the dark place I try so hard to avoid. Being at home seems to help minimize all that.
Today was easier. The test was uneventful (except for my insane fear of needles making a double appearance) and now I have a week of waiting for the results. Defense mechanisms are in full-force. My mind is wrapping itself around the fact that my blood is currently radioactive and taking that to fun places. I fully expect to hit anxiety mode again, but for now, I think mutant superpowers and remember that either way this thing goes, I’m still alive. 7 days to go.