To be fair, the cardiologist having only been aware of my history since he put three stents in my heart a year ago, did not intend to be funny. In order for you to recognize the joke when it comes, I will begin with a bit of backstory.
In conversations, I routinely top all the nerd stories about being the last chosen on the playground when teams were choosing up sides. That part was routine for me, but one day the captains were finished except for me. I stood anticipating the usual, “Oh, all right, I’ll take Virginia Ann.” Instead, the captain said, “We’ll give you five points if you’ll take her on your side.”
Not all my siblings and friends were that rude in their assessments of my physical abilities, but all of them knew that coordination and athleticism were not my strong suits. Except for jacks (eighth grade indoor recess champion, thank you very much) and an “A” in fencing at Ole Miss, I have absolutely no claim to any kind of physical prowess. In the next generation, my children didn’t take long to join the snickering and not-too-subtle jokes.
With that established, I move to my one-year after surgery appointment with the cardiologist. We began with the normal tests being reviewed by the nurse practitioner who seemed pleased until she came to a sudden stop, “Your heart rate is in the 50s. That’s low.” She didn’t say any more but wrote something in the chart for the cardiologist who came in shortly after she left.
The cardiologist looked at my tests results and her comment before asking, “Are you continuing your walking regimen?” I had made an agreement with him in January that if I walked a mile three times a day, five days a week, I could skip the cardio rehab that I found boring. I assured him that I had not missed a week. He smiled and said, “That’s why your heart rate is low. Athletes often have really low heart rates.” I tried to keep my face straight as he continued, “When you go for other medical treatment, they will note your low heart rate and be concerned. Just tell them you are an athlete, and there is nothing to be concerned about.” Since he appeared to be serious, I contained my laughter until I headed to the car.
Updated emails to family about my health results brought several bits of amusement. The sister who has known me the longest of any human still on the planet was always an athlete and now has the knees to prove it. She put the family reaction precisely, “That is just TOO funny!”
In reflection, I have enjoyed these recent laughs at my expense while hoping the cardiologist was dead serious with his projection of my next twenty years!