Making Sense Of A 35yr Old Body

I had a health screening last Thursday and I chose the Male Premier package at SATA (mostly because the SATA clinic was closer to home and that there was a discount from the company). They took my poop, urine and blood in quick succession. No, the poop happened somewhere else and I had to ensure a sufficient sample was delivered encased when I went for the appointment. This upgraded package of tests included a Treadmill test. Just like the ones you see on TV where the athlete runs on a conveyor belt strapped to a mess of wires, connected to a large beeping machine that displayed numeric responses to my physical activities. I had to shave my chest for this. Else the sensors wouldn't stick on the unconcerned lady on the phone told me. Goodness. Anyway, the doctor who would observe me walk and jog was a little busy at the start of my bondage so I tried to do stuff to make my heartbeat, now numerically measured in digital precision in front me, go faster or slower. It was amazing how quickly the heart reacted to my shenanigans on the stationary mill. I also had a similar experience with my blood pressure half an hour earlier. I was looking at the meter as the device measured the diastolic and systolic readings. Apparently, I was nervous and the blood pressure reciprocated my sentiments. I hit a 138 and the lady told me to relax. She performed the test again and my high hit a 119. I wasn't looking at the display this second time around. Wow.

So back to the Treadmill test (capitalized as it deserves to be). The doctor came around and told me that the chance of a heart attack on this thing was 1 in 10000. I also had to sign a acknowledgement form recognizing the potential strain on my heart. How kanjiong these doctors make you when you are about to put yourself to the limit. The mill started slow, and I was walking. Stage 2 I was striding faster. A slow jog into stage 3 and stage 4 was a strong pace. One element of difficulty was the progressive incline added to the run. Yes, it was a smart machine designed to knock you out. Some time along Stage 4, the machine displayed 187 in bright red numbers, alerting me to slight alarm. The doctor said "You have reached your maximum and any data after this is useless to the analysis. So do you want to carry on?' I said no, because I didn't want to sweat anymore, looking not to so pretty on the way home. Then I thought, 187, that was my max?! The doctor said that was good. Hmmm. It didn't sound great.

I get the full consultation early in the new year. Let's see how the old body is shaping up given the nearly 2 years of hot yoga. Apparently, I have lost about 7kg and grew 1cm. Some friends said it was a parallax error in the height measurement. Hmpf.

On Sunday, I woke with a strange numb pain in the middle of my back. My end day, while the family was out walking about Little India looking for food, the chest was in slight pain. Nope, not near the heart. The right lung was the source. Strange. So I went to see the doctor today. He put his cold scope on my chest (I shivered a little) and listened, telling me softly to bring in and out. He concluded, like I was tending to believe, that it was a muscle sprain or something like that. Or that the ribs were stretched too much. I have Anarex to take tonight to sleep. I am wondering when the pain will go away.