Chapter 2: Anomaly-A Deviation or Departure From the Norm
By Wednesday, the day of the cardiologist appointment, I was fiending for a cup of coffee. No running and no caffeine added to an already stressful situation and I was ready to blow. William took the day as well, at the time I thought he did it more for him, but looking back I realize how much of a mess I really was.
The office is conveniently located just a couple of miles up Shady Grove, a 7 minute drive from our home. Well, I'm from the County and I still act like it takes me 30 minutes to get anywhere and thank God for it because the address I got from Google took me to their old office. William joked with me that this was the stress test portion of my appointment as we finally walked up to the correct building 2 minutes past the time the appointment started. Remember, no coffee, no running, high stress. Its a good thing he's cute, because currently, he wasn't being funny... although he was trying.
I wish I could explain to you how eccentric this office is. I'm going to do my best, but I'm sure not only will I not do it justice, but that you won't believe me anyway.
First, Virginia. Virginia runs the front desk She is at least 60 years old, overweight, and has the longest fake fingernails I've ever seen. So long that she uses a pair of scissors to open her can of Diet Coke. Her voice is weird like she is speaking through her nose. It is entirely possible she had a stroke at some point that causes her to speak that way so I'm not making fun. She's loud. And when I say loud I mean St. Mary's County loud. Outspoken. Flirtatious. Inappropriately funny. She doesn't belong in Rockville. She reminds me of one of my aunts from back home. She teases, no, verbally abuses the others waiting in the room with me, but when Taser enters the room her demeanor changes. Taser is the 65 lb, 2 year old German Shepard that belongs to the Cardiologist.
"Yer not afraid of dawgs, are you?" she asks me as if it mattered. She'd likely tell me to find another doctor if I was. I assure her that I'm not, and as a matter of fact, I have a soft spot in my heart for German Shepards.
The wait was terrible. The heat was intolerable. Me, the girl who wears long johns to bed in the summer time was having a heat stroke. My head started to pound and I started to take off layers. William kept asking me if it was okay or if he could get me anything, but all I could see was that pot of coffee staring at me from across the room. I wouldn't even bother asking him to sneak me a cup. It wasn't worth it.
We waited for over an hour, possibly two. I heard Virginia give medical advice to patients over the phone as if she was the cardiologist. She told the two 50 something year old daughters of an old woman, who had to be at least 90, that the doctor was about to hospitalize their mother again. She ordered at least 2 items from QVC. But no one seemed to think any of it was odd or out of place. Just as the two sisters and their ancient mother stood up to go back to see the doctor, the nice sister looks at me and says, "She's worth the wait, I promise." They had been there long before I got there. They complained to Virginia that the wait time was horrendous, but they never thought of doing anything about it. They just waited.
I was the last patient of the day. They apparently squeezed me in. You wouldn't have known it because the lady doing the echocardiogram talked as if she hadn't seen a patient all day. I discovered that she had one child, a boy who just turned 21. She had just had a hysterectomy in May and they had a recent family trip to Las Vegas. She was one of those women that had her own conversation, you just happened to be in the room. She would say something, then correct herself immediately like she didn't like the way she said it the first time. My headache was getting worse so I just lay on the table as she rubbed the sonogram devise all over my chest. I remember her mentioning that I had a small leakage and thought it was weird that she was telling me what she was seeing. William was getting a sonogram tech lesson at this point and she was explaining what the different colors meant. I was literally fighting back the notion to vomit and I realized I was having a migraine headache. I hadn't had one of those for over 2 years.
Noel was probably the most normal person in the group. She's latino of some sort. I'm sorry if that offends anyone, but I'm telling you right now, I cannot decipher the difference between any of the latino nationalities anymore than I can decipher the differences between the asian ones. But I CAN decipher the difference between the two... most of the time. Noel noted that we were the same age. She also had four children. She couldn't believe she'd met someone her age with children in the same age range. I understand her surprise as it's not normal, especially in MoCo where people don't start having babies until their 40s. She was very intuitive and understanding. She allowed me to negotiate my weight. I told her that I weigh myself every morning naked and I don't care what her scale says, she had to remove 5 lbs for clothing and water weight. Like I said, she was very understanding. She was also the first person to realize that I was having a migraine. When my blood pressure was 129 over 90 she wouldn't hear my negotiations. "Do it again," I said. "My blood pressure is ALWAYS 112 over 78. I just need you to try again."
"Are you having a migraine headache right now?" she asked me as she looked at William, who had never experienced me like this before.
"Yes, I think I am." She turned off the lights and continued her tests. Shortly after Dr. Urquhart entered the room.
Dr. Urquhart is no taller than 4' 11". No heavier than 100 lbs. She is a Manhattan Jew and she couldn't hide it if she tried. Leathery tan skin, dark frizzy hair, a large nose, and an accent that I knew from many episodes of Sex in the City. I'm telling you, stereotypes are there for a reason.
"So you're the marathoner, huh? Why didn't you mention you got migraine headaches?" the only thing that could make her appear more Manhatan-y Jewish would be if she had a cigarette in her hand while she said it.
"I haven't had one in almost 3 years. I didn't think about it. I think its just because my PCP took me off caffeine and I haven't had a cup of coffee in 3 days."
"Well it makes a big difference," she says as she starts to tell me about some anomaly that is the "leading cause of heart related deaths in young athletes." I'm not making this up. She totally went worst case scenario on us. She called Virginia and demanded she bring me a cup of coffee immediately and told me that my PCP should have known better than to take me off of coffee if I have a history of migraines. I felt a need to defend the poor doctor I'd only seen twice before, but couldn't find the time to fit in the words between the Dr. Urquhart's stories about her Cross Fit gym, her low calorie, low sugar diet, and her lovely $20,000 dog.
After a long discussion in her office with the $20,000 dog laying at my feet, she scheduled me for my stress test the next day and sent me back to Noel to get my 24 hour heart monitor with nothing more than a cup of coffee, a poorly drawn picture of a heart with its arteries flowing about, and the looming feeling that my grandfathers, who I had never met, left me with nothing more than a quick boarding pass to my grave.
The office is conveniently located just a couple of miles up Shady Grove, a 7 minute drive from our home. Well, I'm from the County and I still act like it takes me 30 minutes to get anywhere and thank God for it because the address I got from Google took me to their old office. William joked with me that this was the stress test portion of my appointment as we finally walked up to the correct building 2 minutes past the time the appointment started. Remember, no coffee, no running, high stress. Its a good thing he's cute, because currently, he wasn't being funny... although he was trying.
I wish I could explain to you how eccentric this office is. I'm going to do my best, but I'm sure not only will I not do it justice, but that you won't believe me anyway.
First, Virginia. Virginia runs the front desk She is at least 60 years old, overweight, and has the longest fake fingernails I've ever seen. So long that she uses a pair of scissors to open her can of Diet Coke. Her voice is weird like she is speaking through her nose. It is entirely possible she had a stroke at some point that causes her to speak that way so I'm not making fun. She's loud. And when I say loud I mean St. Mary's County loud. Outspoken. Flirtatious. Inappropriately funny. She doesn't belong in Rockville. She reminds me of one of my aunts from back home. She teases, no, verbally abuses the others waiting in the room with me, but when Taser enters the room her demeanor changes. Taser is the 65 lb, 2 year old German Shepard that belongs to the Cardiologist.
"Yer not afraid of dawgs, are you?" she asks me as if it mattered. She'd likely tell me to find another doctor if I was. I assure her that I'm not, and as a matter of fact, I have a soft spot in my heart for German Shepards.
The wait was terrible. The heat was intolerable. Me, the girl who wears long johns to bed in the summer time was having a heat stroke. My head started to pound and I started to take off layers. William kept asking me if it was okay or if he could get me anything, but all I could see was that pot of coffee staring at me from across the room. I wouldn't even bother asking him to sneak me a cup. It wasn't worth it.
We waited for over an hour, possibly two. I heard Virginia give medical advice to patients over the phone as if she was the cardiologist. She told the two 50 something year old daughters of an old woman, who had to be at least 90, that the doctor was about to hospitalize their mother again. She ordered at least 2 items from QVC. But no one seemed to think any of it was odd or out of place. Just as the two sisters and their ancient mother stood up to go back to see the doctor, the nice sister looks at me and says, "She's worth the wait, I promise." They had been there long before I got there. They complained to Virginia that the wait time was horrendous, but they never thought of doing anything about it. They just waited.
I was the last patient of the day. They apparently squeezed me in. You wouldn't have known it because the lady doing the echocardiogram talked as if she hadn't seen a patient all day. I discovered that she had one child, a boy who just turned 21. She had just had a hysterectomy in May and they had a recent family trip to Las Vegas. She was one of those women that had her own conversation, you just happened to be in the room. She would say something, then correct herself immediately like she didn't like the way she said it the first time. My headache was getting worse so I just lay on the table as she rubbed the sonogram devise all over my chest. I remember her mentioning that I had a small leakage and thought it was weird that she was telling me what she was seeing. William was getting a sonogram tech lesson at this point and she was explaining what the different colors meant. I was literally fighting back the notion to vomit and I realized I was having a migraine headache. I hadn't had one of those for over 2 years.
Noel was probably the most normal person in the group. She's latino of some sort. I'm sorry if that offends anyone, but I'm telling you right now, I cannot decipher the difference between any of the latino nationalities anymore than I can decipher the differences between the asian ones. But I CAN decipher the difference between the two... most of the time. Noel noted that we were the same age. She also had four children. She couldn't believe she'd met someone her age with children in the same age range. I understand her surprise as it's not normal, especially in MoCo where people don't start having babies until their 40s. She was very intuitive and understanding. She allowed me to negotiate my weight. I told her that I weigh myself every morning naked and I don't care what her scale says, she had to remove 5 lbs for clothing and water weight. Like I said, she was very understanding. She was also the first person to realize that I was having a migraine. When my blood pressure was 129 over 90 she wouldn't hear my negotiations. "Do it again," I said. "My blood pressure is ALWAYS 112 over 78. I just need you to try again."
"Are you having a migraine headache right now?" she asked me as she looked at William, who had never experienced me like this before.
"Yes, I think I am." She turned off the lights and continued her tests. Shortly after Dr. Urquhart entered the room.
Dr. Urquhart is no taller than 4' 11". No heavier than 100 lbs. She is a Manhattan Jew and she couldn't hide it if she tried. Leathery tan skin, dark frizzy hair, a large nose, and an accent that I knew from many episodes of Sex in the City. I'm telling you, stereotypes are there for a reason.
"So you're the marathoner, huh? Why didn't you mention you got migraine headaches?" the only thing that could make her appear more Manhatan-y Jewish would be if she had a cigarette in her hand while she said it.
"I haven't had one in almost 3 years. I didn't think about it. I think its just because my PCP took me off caffeine and I haven't had a cup of coffee in 3 days."
"Well it makes a big difference," she says as she starts to tell me about some anomaly that is the "leading cause of heart related deaths in young athletes." I'm not making this up. She totally went worst case scenario on us. She called Virginia and demanded she bring me a cup of coffee immediately and told me that my PCP should have known better than to take me off of coffee if I have a history of migraines. I felt a need to defend the poor doctor I'd only seen twice before, but couldn't find the time to fit in the words between the Dr. Urquhart's stories about her Cross Fit gym, her low calorie, low sugar diet, and her lovely $20,000 dog.
After a long discussion in her office with the $20,000 dog laying at my feet, she scheduled me for my stress test the next day and sent me back to Noel to get my 24 hour heart monitor with nothing more than a cup of coffee, a poorly drawn picture of a heart with its arteries flowing about, and the looming feeling that my grandfathers, who I had never met, left me with nothing more than a quick boarding pass to my grave.
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