First I got an echocardiogram. I understand that to be a series of pictures of my heart in action and a recording of my heart in action. That took about an hour, and it was much like the test pregnant women get that reveals the gender of their child-to-be.
I got the feeling that no one felt that there was anything to be alarmed about from that procedure.
I went from there to the stress test. First I had a quickie electrocardiogram. Then the tech stuck electrodes in several places around my chest, strapped a device against my breastbone and hooked up many wires to the electrodes.
He stuck one of those blood/oxygen sensors on one finger and slid a blood pressure sleeve up my right arm.
He and a cardiology nurse talked to me about the treadmill test I was about to undergo. They wanted me to understand that if I felt the least big light-headed or unsteady, I had only to say so, and help would instantly be forthcoming.
I was told that when the blood pressure sleeve inflated, I was to release the death grip I had on the treadmill rail and relax my arm, so the reading would be accurate.
I was told that at certain points in the test, I would be asked to identify the level of effort I was experiencing, by using the numbers or words on a chart right in front of the treadmill machine: Easy, mildly hard, hard, harder, etc.
The machine would start slowly, they said, on a moderate grade, and increase in speed and gradient until I had achieved my target heart rate: about 120 beats per minute.
I got on the rolling rubber treadmill. The thing started to move at a slow-walk pace. If it was indeed uphill, it was hardly noticeable.
As the seconds passed, the doctor, the nurse and the tech talked to me, telling me that the pace was going to increase and reminding me to relax my right arm when the blood pressure cuff inflated.
I trotted along on the rolling rubber track. I'd worn a pair of sweat pants and my walking shoes so I was comfortable on the machine. As the pace increased and the incline steepened, I had to work a bit harder.
I felt I was keeping it together well, though, not panting for breath or striding raggedly on the track. When I was told that we'd reached my target heart rate, I kept up the effort. I'd reached the middle of the easy-to-difficult scale, I felt, but I was not in any trouble.
After a few moments, the cardiac nurse asked me if I wanted to continue as the effort became higher. Nah, I said, that's enough. The machine took its time slowing down and eventually stopped.
I took my time before deciding to step off the treadmill. I asked the nurse if there had been anything to learn if I'd stayed longer on the machine. No, she said.
I learned on the spot that my heart gets all the blood it needs; no problems there. The reams of information from the "echo" and the stress test will be examined by a cardiologist and relayed to my doctor, who will email me a report.
Perhaps that report will tell Tamar and me how to proceed so that I can once again climb Garrison Street hill.