My heart is broken

I went in for my physical yesterday. Not the highest point in my social calendar for the year--but one that has to be done.

My doctor performed the standard tests, including violating me in ways that even makes my husband blush! He did reflex tests, listened to my breathing, poked, prodded, listened to my heart....listened to my heart.....still listening to my heart.

"Hmm."

That must be the one single sound you don't want to hear from your doctor while he's listening to your chest with instruments! What the heck!? What is it!?

"Have you ever been diagnosed with a heart murmur before?"

A wha?

My life flashed before my eyes. Oh Goodness.
I'm dying. A heart murmur.
Something is wrong with my heart. It's got a murmur.

"Uh. What's a murmur?" (I guess I should figure out what it is before I plan out what to wear to my funeral.)

"Well, it's just an extra noise that your valves are making. It could be very innocent--especially if you've never been diagnosed with it. They're usually heard in infancy. That's the best case scenario. Or they could be very serious, one that would require open heart surgery."

WHAT!? Open heart surgery!? What the heck!?

So, I have to go in for a battery of tests on Saturday. I'm getting a 2D Doppler Colour Echocardiogram done. How cool and frightening does that sound!?

I got back and told a few people. Nearly everyone I've told has one. Co-workers, friends and probably family members (haven't asked too many yet).

So. My heart is broken. I will tell you all when I come back from my tests on Saturday if I'll be writing my own obituary soon....