EK Gee...

I went for an EKG on Friday. It's really just an ultra-sound of the heart. No different, from the patient's point of view, from the ultra-sounds I had done during my pregnancies.

I was able to see my heart beating, and my valves flapping in good order. Do most patients talk during this procedure? What does it say about me that I couldn't keep silent?

So I asked the guy, "Is this the only test you do here?"

No, he also works with pre-mature infants often. With children. But whatever he does, it's the heart. 8 hours a day. But it doesn't get old for him because "every heart is different."

I don't believe that was the whole truth. It must get old sometimes.

But I had other questions: "After looking at all these hearts, do you have perfect health habits?"

No, not really.

"You mean you don't think twice before eating a cheeseburger?"

Well, he hadn't eaten fast food for 6 years.

What???? Dude, that is a health habit. It's the only health habit we need to end the obesity epidemic in this country.

He went on to say that he didn't pay attention to anything in his 20's. He smoked. Ate whatever he wanted. Drank often. But at age 32, he finally got his cholesterol checked--it was high, and his blood pressure was creeping up. So he made some changes.

The point of my questions was to guage whether "doctors heal themselves." Do those who see health issues up close take care of their own? It seems like they all should. They know what good health looks like, and they have to look in the mirror a couple times a day.

Their special knowledge is partly why medical professionals have a special power to thrill. What am I talking about? Something I noticed back in October, when dealing with the ankle surgery.

Dr. Tokish--who was a terrific guy, very personable, a very talented surgeon--told me at my last post-surgery appointment that he recommended I leave the plate in for the rest of my life.

I looked at him, then down at my ankle and said, "But I can see the plate when I flex my leg a certain way. I can feel the plate and the screws with my fingers!"

Then he said, "That's because you're skinny."

Then I said, "Oh! What was that? Could you say that again? Just that last part. . ."

A special power to thrill. More powerful than I had even known. . .until a post-surgical appointment with Mayfield, whence the three of us (e.g. Bryan was there) got into a conversation about reconstructive surgery.

Mayfield was describing one version that included taking muscle from one part of the body and re-locating it to another. And I'd be a "perfect" candidate for it because I didn't smoke, I'm young and I'm thin.

And I was like, "Oh! What did you just say? Can you say that one more time? Just that last part."

There I was! Sitting with just one breast and a scar slicing across the other half of my chest, feeling like someone had just mistaken me for a CoverGirl model.

Does Bryan have this power? No. Doesn't matter what he says--and he pays a lot of compliments--because a) there's always the probability that he is blinded by love and b) he is intensely self-interested in my feeling good about myself.

No, the power can only belong to a person who has no vested interest in the emotional result of the statement and who knows what "too much fat" looks like.

Doctors and nurses--medical professionals who know what good health is and who have the obligation to tell you when you ain't got it--are such people.

But here I have to be completely honest: I'm pretty sure the power is only about good health as it relates to what I look like. Because when the EKG guy explained that he'd send the results to the cardiologist for a reading, and that from what he saw, my heart looked to be functioning perfectly, I said, only, "Sounds good. Thanks!" And then left the room with no special thrill at all.