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The Nuclear Heart Test and The Bad Season


I turn 60 in a few months, and I guess I've been lucky healthwise, despite feeling like I was born smoking. I actually started smoking at 14 and have never quit, except for the first five days in Marine Corps boot camp when I didn't have any cigarettes. Everyone else I grew up with started at age five. (Some are dead, but no one I ever knew died from lung cancer.) No one in my family has ever died from cancer. We all get heart attacks and strokes. If you don't get cancer, chances are strokes and heart attacks will take you out eventually. I've been a light smoker and really have never had problems with breathing, no bricks on the chest, cough, etc. That could be bad because I haven't suffered for it.
I've lifted weights all my life, and I've been taking blood pressure medicine for the past five years. But that's about it. Every time I go to the doctor my blood pressure is high. I take it at home and it's normal. I go to the doctor in the afternoon and it's high. They told me I have White Coat Syndrome, meaning each time I go to the doctor I get so nervous my BP rises. My doctor ordered a Nuclear Stress Test. They shoot radioactive dye into your arteries while you're on a treadmill, once your heart rate reaches the target level. My target level was 136. You have to sign a statement saying you understand that this test might kill you. The odds are 1-2500. It's like playing a lottery you hope you don't win.
Before the test, my blood pressure was 122-87: a little high on the low end but normal for a 60 year old man. This amazed me. You would think when I'm about to be lit up like a Christmas tree and I could croak during the process, that I would feel more stress than going to the doctor for a routine visit. I guess that's the Marine in me; we are more relaxed when faced with possible death. I also noticed the nurse took my blood pressure the right way, with my arm elevated level with my heart. Not many nurses bother to do it right, and your blood pressure may read higher than it is. (Makes me wonder how many people take BP medicine who don't need it.)
I got up to the target heart rate in seven minutes. They injected the dye and I didn't die on the spot. Then I had to be on my back in something called a Gamma machine that took pictures for 45 minutes. You can't move other than to breathe. Of course, my nose started itching and then my back. Not being able to scratch takes discipline, but I didn't want to go through the test again. They sent me to lunch and then back again for more pictures. The stuff stays in your system for a month.
I had to wait to see the doctor. That's the bad part. I told my wife they were probably going to tell me that my arteries looked like a series of beaver dams. The doctor told me I hid my age well and that my heart was totally normal with no blockages anywhere. Then he reamed me out for twenty minutes about smoking. I plan to quit by my birthday this year. That nuclear test was stressful, but the relief of finding out that I wasn't going to die any second from a heart attack was worth the risk. My need for BP medicine is probably heritage combined with my age.
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My latest novel is still doing okay. John Cullen of Clocktower has sent several copies to my old college, the University of Cincinnati, stressing what he believes is the underlying psychological statement of war veteran persecution in the novel. I don't believe that was my intention when I wrote it, but if it came out that way for some readers, that's fine. I want to thank my wife and daughter, my lifelong friends, and those readers who keep pushing the book through word of mouth. The novel is doing well for having no advertising budget.

What some others have said about The Bad Season
"a harrowing tale of a Marine vet who travels to Owenton, Ky., to help a lifelong friend but stumbles onto a corrupt sheriff who's heavily into the marijuana trade, and a thing that kills for kicks -- including the friend he came to help."
Cincinnati Enquirer

"I just finished the Bad Season. Great read. As I read I was wondering how you were going to end. How you were going to kill something that couldn't be killed. Good job!"
Semper Fi
Wayne Hughes

Amazon Bad Season
Skocklines Bad Season Signed

More on Vietnam in next update.

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