A tough Swede

BY SARAH NIGBOR

“You’re a tough Swede,” Grandpa said. “Come on, it will be fine.” Those words echoed through my head this past Monday as I looked at the entrance to the hospital. The dreaded hospital. It was deadline day. I was supposed to be working, not checking into Urgent Care. Those were the words my grandpa said to 14-year-old me when I was about to undergo a tonsillectomy.

I remember hesitating at the door and his words propelled me forward. It was important to me to be seen as tough in my grandpa’s eyes. I carry those words to this day, to every difficult thing I face. If you’ll recall in my last column, I’ve had unexplained symptoms plaguing me for two months, ranging from heart palpitations to swelling in my feet to migraines to nausea. The symptoms worsened over Plum City Summerfest weekend, so my doctor ordered me into Urgent Care for tests. I tried to explain to her that Monday is newspaper deadline day, but she said her deadline was more important. So off I went with my computer strapped to my back.

After the tests were performed and I was (not so) cozy in my bed, I plunked the computer on top of the blankets and commenced writing once again. It’s hard to type when you have an oxygen thingy strapped to your finger, but I made due. The tests I underwent were for my heart. Blood tests, an EKG, an echocardiogram and chest x-rays. I have an increased risk of heart disease because my dad died of it at a young age.

As I waited for the results, I worked on the sheriff’s blotter and reading Reagan’s sports stories so I didn’t freak out. Working keeps my mind busy and the nurses left me be. I think they knew better than to mess with deadline day. When the doctor stepped in the room, I put on my tough Swede face and waited for him to speak. The good news is, my heart is healthy and while I have an elevated risk of someday developing congestive heart failure, nothing is indicating that that is happening now. It’s pumping away with no infection, swelling or fluid in its way. I almost passed out from relief. I didn’t want to admit it, but I’d been very worried ever since my doctor broached the possibility of heart failure. Who wouldn’t be? The bad news is, they still don’t know what’s wrong with me, so more tests I will undergo.

Luckily, I was able to have my sinus surgery this past Thursday as planned, so I’m now sporting a stylish gauze band beneath my nose, complete with glassy eyes from being on pain medication. The doctor says I will be able to breathe through my nose again once the stents come out, so hopefully that will be one medical merry-go-round that we can put to rest. For someone who hates going to the doctor, I’ve sure been there a lot the past few months. On one funny note, there were no problems with the anesthesia during this surgery. In the past I’ve woken up in the middle of a procedure (aforementioned tonsillectomy) and been convinced that I was riding in the Jetson’s space car during my C-section. This time I was out like a light, except I’m pretty sure a nice German woman sang me to sleep … or not.