Damned Watch

Mickey Mantle once said, “If I had known I was going to live this long, I’d have taken better care of myself.” 

I’m beginning to understand. Yeah, I don’t always practice a healthy lifestyle, but I don’t think I’m too bad. Most days, I walk three-plus miles; I also read and, of course, write. I’ve read that the mental gymnastics it provides are as important as physical exercise.

I’ve always been a tech geek. It started years ago in junior high (middle school) when I worked part-time for a radio and TV repair shop. I got the electronics bug. Whether it was electrical or electronic, something was intriguing about knowing that electrical current, something you could not see, smell, or hear, traveling along a wire conductor had such potential.

My geekiness interested me in stereos and, later, in iPods, smartphones, and computers. Steve Jobs could have been speaking to me directly when Apple introduced the iWatch. I had to have one. Not long after the rollout, Vickie surprised me with one. I’ve worn it ever since. 

That little black-faced square device on my wrist keeps up with my favorite podcasts, music, notes, calendar, and much more. It also reminds me when and how much to walk, stand, and exercise. For those who say it like Big Brother and knows too much, I have news for them. That ship has sailed. They gave up that privacy thing years ago when they signed up for the discount grocery or drug store card. 

Anyway, back to my story. One morning a couple of months ago, I was sitting in front of my computer having a cup of coffee, trying to figure out a plot line for a story, when my iWatch started vibrating and buzzing. The damn thing felt like it was going to jump off my wrist. What the hell, I thought as I looked at it. Big, bold red letters on the screen said, “WARNING! AFIB. CONTACT YOUR DOCTOR!” What? AFIB? I feel fine. What’s going on? There’s nothing wrong with me. I had another swallow of coffee and went back to the story. A few minutes later, it went off again.

After consulting with the resident physician, Vickie. My wife isn’t a doctor, but thirty-one years of employment at a level-one trauma center is good enough for me. Heck, she learned more by osmosis than some fourth-year residents know. She said, “Email the doctor.” “I don’t want to bother him,” I answered. “I said, email the doctor,” she replied.

I’m a grown-ass man. This is bullshit. I ain’t got time for this. I’ll make my own decisions, I thought.  A minute or so later, I typed the damn email. 

An hour or so later, I received a reply. “Go to the ED (Emergency Department) and tell them your watch went off and to check you out.”

I cringed. The last thing I wanted to do was go to the damn ED, but I knew as soon as Dr. Vickie found out, we’d be in the car, so I got ready to go. Grand Strand Medical has a free-standing ED not far from us, so we headed out.

Five minutes after telling the triage nurse what was going on, I was hooked up to a heart monitor. A little later, an ED doctor came in and introduced himself. He was a low-key, personable guy who listened to my story. I explained that the watch had gone off twice. After looking at the chart on my phone, it turns out there were five episodes. Maybe this damn watch is not off, after all, I thought.

“Mr. Hamann, I’ve seen this before. iWatches are good for business, he laughed, but I had a man last month who came in just like you. When we hooked him up, we found he was in full cardiac arrest. He wouldn’t have made it if he hadn’t heeded his watch signal.” He started to the door. “It’s gonna be an hour or so to get all the bloodwork back. Just relax. I’ll return in a little while.” Dang, maybe there is a problem, I thought as I lay there. 

When you’re lying around waiting, minutes seem like hours. Finally, the doctor came in. “I’ve got good news, Mr. Hamann. Your labs and tests are perfect. Let me ask you a couple more questions.” “Sure,” I said. “Caffeine? Do you drink a lot of coffee?” “Yes, I answered. I have two sixteen-ounce cups every morning.” “What about sodas?” “Yep, I answered. I drink Diet Pepsi Zero.” “How much?” he asked. “Uh, on a busy day, one, maybe, two liters.” His brow arched, “Sometimes you drink a two-liter Pepsi Zero a day?” “Yep,” I answered. “Mr. Hamann, I suggest you cut back on the caffeine.”

Fast forward to today. As I sit here typing this, I’m hooked up to a portable cardiac monitor I have to wear for a couple of weeks to make sure things are okay. My doctor agreed with the ED doc and thinks it was brought on by caffeine, but he wanted to monitor me for a couple of weeks to make sure. 

By the way, I quit caffeine. I haven’t had any caffeine in six weeks, and the watch hasn’t gone off since that day. Thank you, Apple. The damn thing may have saved my butt.