My right foot is a piece of garbage. No, really. Since my teens, every once in a while, through some mysterious transformation enacted, doubtlessly, by clamoring minions of the underworld, becomes an agony generator equaled only by the presence of my Ex.
It’s too bad I don’t have a previous stress echo to compare this to, since I’ve never had one before.
Appointment at the cardiologist was pretty uneventful. Dr. Mendelson seemed surprised I’m doing so well with such a diverse and staggering quantity of heart defects. She asked me a couple times who referred me, and why I was there, but my answer never wavered: I want a Cardiologist familiar with, and who has seen many other adult congenital heart patients. And here’s the funny part: she more than proved my point.
Well, I found out why I’m hitting a wall with my DDR skills, and why I simply can’t do hard 10-footers or the nasty level 11s, 12s, and 13s of ITG. I long believed this to be the case, but I ran into a study by the American Heart Association that specifically covers patients with a corrected transposition by the Mustard procedure, congenitally corrected transposition, and a similar group having undergone a revised Fontan.