A Double Take on Changes in Previously Calcified Circumstances
I would say my birthday week was subpar to quite subpar, the inverse of Gaylord Focker’s portfolio. There was news of aggressive cancer within extended family and friends that’s a bit far removed for me to share. I got fired, almost like twice really. And I got a weird health — not scare, more like downbeat reality — again, almost like twice.
Although this all must be super clear, let’s go chronologically. I got a physical eight days before turning 41, just beating the buzzer on a milestone year resolution. I’ve never had a doctor and don’t recall getting blood drawn outside of donating once or twice.
It was time. My dad should have died on a random street in 2018 and had an insane quintuple-bypass heart surgery 15 months ago. Presumably because of this history, the physician assistant did an EKG with those little wired patches stuck on my chest. She saw something abnormal and referred me to a cardiologist.
So for 15 days I played a pleasant mind game trying to detect symptoms in my breathing, with the primary opponent being imagination. Meanwhile the blood lab results came back fine except my A1C is 0.1 percent away from prediabetic.
Hopefully I’ve posted enough ab pics for this to surprise you. Here’s a recent one to refresh the memory in your brain and loins:
Everyone I talk to has trouble comprehending how I could be unhealthy. To put it scientifically, it has to do with genetics and how my body processes stuff. To put it in Texan now that the Ten Commandments will be displayed in my children’s classrooms, it’s how God made me. You see this commonly in Asians, thin on the outside but simmering on the inside with high blood pressure, cholesterol and academic expectations.
A week before the cardiologist appointment, we headed to LA to celebrate my son’s sixth birthday. On the way down to Legoland, I caught a group Slack notification from my technical lead saying her 1-on-1 meeting invite just came through and it was nice working with everyone. I called her and several others as the bloodbath unfolded: my manager, both technical leads and most of our department axed.
I was devastated. Relative to season of life, this job possibly was the best I’ve had, mostly because of our diverse super team. I also suspected my PTO was only delaying a quick reunion with my comrades in the unemployment line. But a couple of people who met with the firing manager said they were told this was the extent of the layoffs and I had been mentioned in future plans. I was also being inundated with new team meeting invites for the following week.
As vacation continued, I hyped myself up more and more to accept what could not be changed and approach the vastly different situation with an open mind and heart, albeit a malfunctioning one. Speaking of which, the cardiologist appointment was the morning of my first day back.
The handsome Indian man walked in and gave the same reaction I get from doughy dads at pool parties. “What are you doing here? You’re young, you’re fit.”
I don’t know bro, you guys called me.
He didn’t have any concerns with the EKG and fielded my questions sourced from the book “Outlive” almost dismissively. Apparently an artery calcium scan is not a predictor of blockage, and you only need to do it once if at all. He ordered that, a heart ultrasound, and a follow-up appointment with the RN in a month.
Before he had arrived, I noticed a 1-on-1 meeting invite with the firing manager that initially appeared on my calendar the previous night only to be quietly removed. I had my laptop with me planning to dial into daily stand-up from the lobby. Instead I hopped on this one still naively not expecting to be fired after making my peace during the emotional whirlwind in California.
She took a few minutes to join, and I recall a fleeting thought that maybe she was coordinating with HR. She appeared on the screen alone and asked how I was doing. I said it was a tough week and was half-expecting HR to be on this call. Perfectly timed on the next breath, HR joined.
With health insurance ending in eight days, I scheduled the calcium scan and ultrasound immediately. The latter came through showing no issues, so I felt like the initial wave of hypochondria passed. Then I got a call to schedule a CTA coronary scan at a cost of my $3,000 out-of-pocket maximum to cover $13,844 total.
It would have been nice to get some context as I had to do the legwork to confirm this was due to my calcium score. 0 to 10 is good. A buddy of mine fit enough to play any sport but also with heart disease in the family clocked in at 18. This is the 85th percentile, meaning only 15 percent of males our age have more plaque in their arteries. He made our other friend get tested, and his score was 6.
Mine was 207. If we grabbed 100 dudes in their early 40s, only one, if that, would more likely have coronary artery disease. This was a karmic revelation as lately I’ve been thinking and saying my physique is uncommonly sharp for my age. I thought I was in the top 1 percent the other way. The plaque has been growing even faster than my hubris.
You know what my dad’s score was at age 54, same height and weight as me? 1507. I would like to have a word with whoever calibrates these scales. Do we need to be that granular and extend the range that far? They could just as easily put everything over 100 in the “You’re on your way out” category. If you were measuring weight in a population to determine who’s obese, would it be nice to use grams? This is not compassionate care.
I will have many more thoughts after this CTA procedure in 12 hours helps diagnose how much my arteries have narrowed. The same person who obstinately refuses to take Tylenol, cough medicine or even caffeine in favor of letting the body naturally do its thing now has to ingest plaque-stabilizing statin medication to avoid the body naturally doing its thing.
It’s as hard for me to process as cholesterol apparently. You could say the genetics were bad luck, but I would counter it was good luck to have a six-pack midsection for the last two decades while never passing up a pizza or nachos binge. It was good luck how I landed at that company (although I did turn down a promising opportunity with a pre-IPO fintech that has since gone public and seen its stock price 7X). It was bad luck how it ended.
There are things you can only control at the margins while change is constant, even if you have to look twice to realize it.