Day of the Fall, 52nd of Autumn, 526 M.E. (Helios): Impermanence is swift. Today, I finally had my much-anticipated but long awaited appointment with a cardiologist. I'm gong to die, eventually, and heart disease is looking more and more likely to be the eventual cause, but I'm not at as imminent a risk as I had feared.

Overall, the doctor seemed nonplussed over my condition, but then he routinely sees far older patients in far worse health than I. In the waiting room, my 72-year-old ass felt like the fresh young thing. At lease I wasn't in a walker or whellchair.

No recommendation for immediate surgery (my worst fear), and my heart doesn't look to him like an overinflated balloon likely to pop at any second. He scheduled me for some non-invasive imaging to assess potential aortic blockage, but that won't be until the 60th Day of Hagwinter (December 30 to most of you). He doesn't need to see me again until next April. 

The long-term outlook seems to be that I can be treated with medication, not surgery. Depending on the results of  the imaging, he may change the medications, but for now he's keeping on the cocktail of drugs I'm taking every day now. 

As Syrio Forel told Arya Stark, "There is only one thing we say to Death: 'Not today.'"

In unrelated news, up to today I had always thought that PHP stood for "pot-head pixie."