We cut back to just two miles yesterday. Why, you may ask? Because I had to go do a stress echo test. Not a symptom-driven thing, though. Just a repeat since I had one three years ago. I was probably supposed to have one every year, but I guess I fell through the cracks.
I’m not sure how far I went on that hospital treadmill. All they were concerned about was getting my heart rate up to 148. I made it through three of their seven stages of difficulty (where they raise the treadmill and speed it up a little more) before I got to where they wanted it to be. The nurse asked if I just wanted to keep going. I quickly informed her that I had no designs on being a superhero. All she needed to hear.
They got me off the machine in a hurry, flipped me around and onto the bed and frantically whipped that ultrasound gadget back and forth. I guess they found a heart in there. They did let me go home, after all. When I checked the readings on my watch, it said my heart rate reached a cool 155. Just proves I’m hot, right? And the results report we saw later on My Chart said I handled the test “excellently for their age.” Not impressed that I was referred to ‘as “their” instead of “his,” or the “for their age” part, but I’m pretty proud of that word “excellently.”
Last night we sat for a while in the shade in the porch swing. Nothing with us but lizards, mosquitoes, and the neighbor’s lawn mower. Peaceful. Sort of.
Matthew 7:7 says, Keep asking, and it will be given to you. Keep searching, and you will find. Keep knocking, and the door will be opened to you.
Father, thanks for my apparent good news from the doc … for my age. Oh, and please be with Cailyn and her docs. Amen.
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