Save Your Achy Breakey Heart

I had the cardiologist appointment today. 
I went in expecting a glitch on their readings.
The doctor asked me why I was there, and I said, “You tell me. No one will tell me anything.”

So he says that the stress test showed I had some damage to the lower part of my heart and that, at some point, I more than likely had a heart attack.
Just a complete shock—it even shocked Husband.

I had no idea—never even dreamed it possible.
Yes, I've had some chest pains. 
Pains I thought came from maybe bronchitis, or the flu, or digging a cat grave when I've been mostly a lazy couch potato.
I mean, wouldn't it have hurt?
I don't have that high of a pain tolerance.

So now I am scheduled for a heart catheterization next Thursday to see how bad the damage is and if I have any blocked arteries, and I am absolutely terrified.
To have had a heart attack at 49—and not even have known it—is scary.
To have what I consider dangerous and invasive surgery—petrifying.

I've not been able to just go off alone and cry and freak out because Son 2 and his girlfriend needed to do their laundry.
They came at 1 p.m. and left at 9 p.m.
The boys are with her mother and have been for a week or two.

Perhaps just not being alone and not obsessing about it is best.
I tend to freak out, have panic attacks, and obsess about things.

As I said, #2 and his girlfriend have been here watching TV and napping on my couch all afternoon.
I've sat and read a book, in between cleaning up the house.

Tomorrow is Husband's appointment—just a follow-up—and hopefully, we'll have a down day on Wednesday.