The doctor removed the stethoscope
from his ears and casually remarked, "you know you've got a murmur?"
No I didn't, but at the age of 31 I must have had 20 doctors listen to my heart
and none of them ever mentioned a murmur. So what were they hearing? A bunch of
animated "good bacteria" singing "Dem Bones"?
"You'd better see a
cardiologist and have it checked out", said doctor number 21.
Dr Sangeev Ramachundren (not his
real name) consulting cardiologist, peered at the monitor of the ecocardiograph
machine. There on the screen was the fascinating muscular pump that I had taken
for granted all these years. And there was that aortic valve, almost but not
completely closing on each contraction of the left ventricle.
Murmurs can be caused by several
different dysfunctions of the heart, all with varying levels of seriousness.
Some people will require valve replacements at some stage in their lives;
others will live out their entire lives with no symptoms being manifested.
Surprisingly, Ramachundren was
writing out what appeared to be a prescription. Apart from a packet of jelly
beans I could not imagine what medicine a figure of athletic prowess like me
could possibly need.
"Take one of these daily with
food", I heard him say, as I swung into panic.
"HEART DRUGS!!!!!!!"
The words exploded in my brain like
a burst capillary, but the words that came out of my mouth revealed an
instinctual awareness that I was in some kind of danger, and it wasn't necessarily
due to my health.
"What do I need those
for", I asked pointedly.
They were "Calcium channel
blockers" called nifedipine, designed to reduce the extra work that my
heart was apparently having to do due to the murmur.
"Do they have
side-effects", I asked.
"Everything has side effects!
Water has side effects!" he stammered impatiently. With this he clapped
his hands together to indicate the end of our meeting and ushered me to the
door.
I found myself alone in a florescent
corridor clutching a script for heart drugs if not for the end game in a
tragedy that had seen my self image of sparkling good health annihilated
without explanation. My first confrontation with mortality had been handled by
a man with an IQ of 150 and an EQ of an imbecile.
Very upset, I stumbled along that
hall toward a glaring light and out into a different world.
"Can I have your
pharmacological manual please?"
The Chemist looked at me with a
combination of amusement and suspicion.
"Are you a doctor?", he
said as he reached down and pulled a large black tome from under the counter.
"No, but I would like to know
a bit more about nifedipine, is that against the rules?"
"No, go for your life".
"I generally do" I said,
as the reference book sat me down on a chair.
I leafed through to the relevant
section: "Nifedipine - Side Effects".
Possible side effects were a list
of 15 worrying symptoms including breathing difficulties, swelling of the hands
and feet, irregular heart beat and, there it was, a rather surprising little
side effect - "death".
Call me a spoil-sport but I stopped
wanting to play. This definitely called for a second opinion.
Dr Nick Santini (not his real name)
agreed that he would put the time in and explain my condition to me. However,
he could not explain why I had been prescribed nifedipine. Both specialists had
13 years of medical study under their belts but one couldn't understand the
other. Of course I didn't need it, I had no symptoms, and if doctor number 21
hadn't discovered the murmur I would be out running and jumping, oblivious to
this weird world of heart valves and clapping cardiologists.
But Santini did think I would need
lisinapril, another HEART DRUG!!!!
Lisinapril is an "A.C.E.
inhibitor" designed to take pressure off the heart and to help prevent
ventricle dilation.
Were there any side-effects? Yes, a
light cough, but only one percent of patients got it. Well that's an
improvement. So far so good. But did I really need to take them?
Dr Henry Anderson (not his real
name) smiled expansively. "Santini's a junior", he was saying,
"I remember him at the college, a few classes beneath me". Having
located Santini in the pecking order he moved on to the business at hand.
"This lisinopril is somewhat
experimental, they are still tracking the long term results".
"So I'm a guinea pig?" I
said.
"Well, I wouldn't put it quite
like that" he said, revealing his other speciality as spin doctor.
"But do I really need
it?", I asked.
"Let me put it like this: if I
had to convince 300 of the worlds top cardiologists that you needed to take
this drug, I couldn't do it."
What about 400 cardiologists?
He pretended not to hear.
Holy wholistic! Drug free at last!
I skipped down the corridor towards a warm, luminous light and out into the
world I once knew.
Ten years later and still no
symptoms. I sometimes wonder if I shopped for the result I wanted and got it;
should I really be taking some kind of HEART DRUG!!!!? I suppose only time will tell.
In the meantime, when I drink a
glass of water I wait cautiously for the aforementioned side effects. So far my
only observation is that I no longer feel thirsty, which is more the intended
effect than a side-effect, wouldn't you say?
