I have a big heart

 They tell me that I have a big heart.

WARNING: This post will suddenly devolve into potty humor.

“They” are the Cleveland Clinic folks running tests galore on me. I’m in another brain study. This one includes, among other things, an Electrocardiogram (EKG), a smell test, a sleep test, and a poop test. More on the latter ones in a minute, but first, I’ll discuss the EKG result.

Right atrial enlargement/dilation was indicated. My primary care physician was notified, and she ordered an Echocardiogram (Echo), which confirmed the result and provided much more detail. The condition may be caused by my running. Furthermore, it may be the normal way the heart adjusts to heavy-duty cardiovascular training. To ensure this is the case and that nothing further is amiss, I have an appointment with a sports cardiologist. That won’t be until March, so I’ll have to try to survive until then.

My strong belief is that this is nothing to be concerned about. I tell Debbie that it’s a good thing, not a bad thing. But she has me convinced I should continue following the medical recommendations. I’m hoping the sports doc will give me the green light.

Now, about the other tests. The smell test was kind of fun. But the sleep and poop tests, not so much. Trying to sleep with dozens of electrodes attached to various parts of my body was pretty awful. The technicians said they wanted me to get a minimum of 4 to 6 hours of sleep (I was at the Intercontinental Hotel near the downtown Clinic). I doubt that I got that much - I was that uncomfortable.

Sleep study

But that didn’t even come close to my level of discomfort associated with the poop test. I tried so very hard to follow the instructions - use the “feces collector” paper that you attach to the sides of the seat, poop, but don’t pee into the sample, don’t let the sample fall into the water, etc., etc. When finished, you use the tongue depressor (and don’t even think about using it as such afterward) to scoop the poop a fair amount of it into a small jar with a lid. Then you package it all up with an ice pack and ship it to the Cleveland Clinic via FedEx. And don’t get me started on the fact that whatever they pay the folks who open the packages isn’t enough.

My instructions

Now, imagine the worst thing that could happen in my attempt to follow these instructions. Then multiply that by, oh, a million or so. That’s how bad it was when the paper fell into the toilet as I got off the seat, tongue depressor in hand, ready to scoop. It was only one side, so some poop had not yet submerged. I tried desperately to scoop this up before it sank. But it wasn’t enough, and the little bit I got caused a huge mess.

The only thing I could do at this point was to try again. They had provided an additional feces collector and tongue depressor. Would it be okay to pile the new poop on top of the little bit I got the first time? I would need to try. After 90 minutes of additional coffee and waiting, it was time to go again. Guess what? Despite my careful best efforts, the exact same thing happened again! This time, to get enough, I scooped as much out of the water as I could. I know. I wasn’t supposed to - it would become contaminated. But what could I do? I was out of options.

Then the toilet flooded. The paper collector was supposed to be flushable, but why should that go right when nothing else would?

I took my possibly contaminated sample to the FedEx store. It was packaged nicely, and the sample had styrofoam and an ice pack. But I’m sure they knew what was inside, based on the lettering on the box. They said it wouldn’t ship until the next day, Monday. Well, it could only be contaminated so much. I hope it doesn’t smell by the time they receive it.

Now that I've probably failed the poop test, what does that say about my brain?