Finding My Nemo - Part I

It all began early last year. My family was still trying to pickup the pieces from my mother’s death three years before. Things were emotionally difficult for me. But physically, something else was amiss.

My heart was sending me messages - in the form of flutters. Without warning or indication, it would beat rapidly for 2-3 seconds and was jarring to the point of breathlessness. It was infrequent enough to not panic, but concerned me enough to mention it to my physician. He declared them to be palpitations and after an EKG proved to be normal, said I was fine and sent me on my way.

Over the next six months, I was beginning to notice that often times when I got out of bed, my heart would pound intensely. I felt like I was exerting myself more when standing up than doing more strenuous things like going to the gym or playing basketball. The symptoms were perplexing and prompted me to bring it up at my next doctor visit. He ordered an EKG to ease my mind. Again, the results were normal. I was nearing the point of frustration; my body and my doctor were giving me mixed signals. Making the choice to speak up for my body, I inquired about getting a stress test to get a better understanding of how my well heart functions when not at rest. Doc’s response: “it’s not really necessary. Patients don’t usually get those done until they reach their 50’s.” I reluctantly accepted his expert advice and left his office…for the last time.

Roughly three months later, my father passed away at the young age of 59 due to complications from diabetes and heart disease. This prompted a sense of urgency to identify what could be going on with me. With the astute advice of my brilliant wife, I left my primary care physician. I would now be consulting with someone familiar with my family’s health history – my dad’s doctor.

Immediately, my new doctor recognized the risk of ignoring the signs and she granted me the stress test I asked about before. The appointment was made to see a cardiologist on January 10^th – what would have been my mother’s 60^th birthday. I can’t help but think that she was looking out for me that day.

To be continued...

Dad, Mom, and Baby Derek