I was feeling ill while in the West Quay centre last Friday morning - I had been on my way to catch the ferry over to Hythe - and made my way into Waterstones.
The staff were helpful, sitting me down in the erotic fiction section and getting me a glass water, then calling first aiders. What surprised me was that they wouldn't call for paramedics, on the grounds paramedics wouldn't come out for something like this. Er, previously paramedics have treated this as urgent. So, I had to sit and wait till I felt I could walk around again without a sense of being about to fall over.
And yesterday was the moment-of-truth visit to the doctors. And the conclusion is....
Nothing.
No diabetes. No anaemia. No thyroid gland problems.
Normally this would be good news. But it means there is still no name to my health problems of this year - except one, which I am unsure of.
The doctor didn't ask me about symptoms, but believes I have something she called SVT. The problem with resorting to doc-speak is that the patient cannot respond. So, when I got home and did some searching online, I came across Supraventricular Tachycardia, which sounds like something that Mary Poppins might say.
The problem is that I have a low heartrate anyway (50-55 per minute is normal for me) and when I have been taken to A&E the issue has not been tachycardia, but the opposite, bradycardia, i.e. my heart rate falls below what it normally is.
So, by not asking about my symptoms, the doctor was barking up the wrong tree. Good thing she didn't prescribe me any medicine to deal with a fast heartrate.
Still no furher forward.
No comments:
Post a Comment