This week has not been one of the better ones I've had recently.  And those of you who follow me on twitter already know what I'm referring to.

I wound up in the hospital for a few days after I started having chest pain and shortness of breath late Saturday night.  Not knowing whether I was really having a heart attack or if it was just another severe reflux attack, I played it smart and went to get checked out.  I was there from shortly after 12:00 a.m.  Sunday morning until around 5:00 p.m. Tuesday.

When the emergency room doctor told me that my cardiologist was admitting me to the hospital and that he'd see me tomorrow, I knew exactly what was coming.  A heart catheterization.  And I was right.  I had been dodging that bullet for a year and a half, but it finally caught up with me.  Honestly, the procedure wasn't as bad as I thought it would be, but the good news that came as a result of it was worth misery of laying flat on my back for six hours afterwards.

There were NO blockages, all of my coronary arteries looked good, and my heart has gotten stronger; it's now pumping at 50%, which is exactly where my dr. wants it.  The doctor even said to stop taking the Plavix that I've been on.

I feel rather thankful that there was something good that came out of this bad situation.  It doesn't always happen that way; the technicians in the heart cath lab made sure to point that fact out several times.  And if things had been worse, well, that would have been ok, too.  I'd have dealt with it like everything else. 

The important thing is that I went to get checked out. If I hadn't, well, you might not be reading this post.