Here, trying to find out what is wrong with me. Yup. I don’t know how many parts in my cheap ass body are going to run amok. Now? My heart. “What’s wrong,” you ask? I wouldn’t call it a heart attack, but it’s some sort of episodic event where my heart stops for a while and takes a siesta. Then, it tries to catch up. My arm hurts. My head wants to explode. I think I’m dying. Is that dramatic enough? Probably not. Because about the time I think I need to either halt the BART for a medical emergency or wake The Big Guy up to go to the ER, the whole episode quits abruptly like, “Nothing going on here.”
So my GP ordered a 24 heart monitor from Seton Hospital. Honestly, I would leave Seton’s name off all of this, but this is the second totally incompetent encounter I have had with them. First time was in the ER for a migraine. I left there in worse condition than I checked in. The ER doctor prescribed Compazine for my migraine. She might as well have farted in my face.
This time Seton gave me a heart monitor that not only didn’t monitor jack but burned me where the electrodes were placed on my skin. It also screamed a couple of times in the night to the point I thought the tsunami siren was going off. Do you have any idea how disorienting that is to have something screaming in bed with you. Okay. Maybe you do, but it’s not that kind of screaming. It’s screaming like the end of the world is near.
Tuesday, when I went to get the heart monitor removed, the tech said, “Oh no. The monitors never scream. They don’t make any noise.” Then she took it off my chest and said, “Hmmm, it didn’t work. The data’s corrupted,” and finally, “The data’s not there.” She said she needed to reattach the faulty (homicidal maniac) monitor back on my chest. I suppose to burn me some more, wake me up at night, and to NOT capture data. I told her, “No,” and left. Okay, not exactly like that. I said, “Hell no. Shit no. Screw you. I have flying monkeys I will use on you if you don’t leave me alone.” She, in turn, called my GP, and indicated I was not co-operating with her little experiment akin to waterboarding.
So, today, I saw a cardiologist that my GP decided to send me to. Now I’m at home with another heart monitor attached to my chest. Another one. I take it back tomorrow to another hospital – not Seton.