No Sports For Me- I'm Heart Broken
Sports are not my thing. They never have and I don't think ever will be. Since I was little I never really enjoyed anything more than a game of catch with my father, something I have since grown out of. I'm not particularly good (read: pathetically bad) at sports and could never get into them enough to really cheer for a specific team. Other than the occasional big game between Israel and another country, you wont find me watching a sports game of any type. No Olympics, cheese hats or big foam hands that say "We're #1!" on them (although I'm pretty sure I have one somewhere from a basketball game I saw as a kid).
So why then did I agree to play basketball this past Saturday night? Well Katz is always suggesting we play and I always respond in the negative. So when I wasn't in the mood to shoot pool, watch a movie or go bowling and he suggested a little physical activity, something I haven't done in waaaaaay to long, I agreed. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
I played for about an hour. The second half of which, I was taking minute breaks every 5 minutes to catch my breath. I just assumed I was out of shape, although my friends say they thought I was going to pass out. When my heart was still pounding after about and hour of rest my mom decided I had to go to the doctor the next day.
She gave some restrictions when guarding and sent me for some blood tests and an ECG. When the ECG wasn't completely normal and some blood tests came back abnormal I got two weeks free of guarding (Hey look, a silver lining!) and an appointment with a cardiologist. After seeing the cardiologist, I remember particularly not liking him last time I saw him (about 8 months ago). He sent me for some more blood tests and a stress test.
I decided to save the blood tests for next week as I had already done some before seeing the cardiologist today. I think I got a new medic because she wasn't so skilled in drawing blood. At first she couldn't get the blood out, to which one of the medics told her to put the needle in further. She moved the needle around until it eventually found it's mark and she filled 4 tubes with my blood. I was glad it was over. Today's prize for stupidity goes to me when I agreed to let her stick me again in the other arm when the same medic said that one tube wasn't full enough. She did better this time, I guess practice does make perfect (or at least better). Although needles don't scare me and I have a pretty high threshold for pain, I wasn't going to push my luck and go get more blood drawn. Two holes in one day are enough!
So now I wait to find out what's wrong with me. My dad and grandfather (the family doctors) aren't worried so neither am I but I would like to know why my tests aren't normal. Until then I guess I'll just have to take it easy. Oh well.