Having failed my stress test last week because of my inability to even complete the damn thing, this morning I'm returning to the bowels of ventricular science to have an unstressful stress test, which is called a "MUGA scan" — for Multi-Gated Acquisition — or, as I like to call it, for simplicity's sake, a Synchronized Multigated Acquisition scan. I trust that clears that up.
Anyway, my reason for telling you this is to note the obvious: I'll be a bit tardy in posting today. See you post-MUGAing.
Update: Not to worry. In a bizarre sort of way, I passed the MUGA scan with flying colors, because it was the wrong test, which was something rather pertinent discovered in the pre-test process. So after an hour of being poked and exsanquinated in preparation for irradiated blood being replumbled into my system like a Mr. Coffeemaker, I left — the MUGA having been cancelled. It seems some bugger mercifully, that is, more simply, called a "nuclear stress test" is what I require. Of course it is. A nuclear stress test, I'm informed, takes twice as long. I have not yet scheduled it.
My sincere thanks for your sentiments of concern, but, really … see first updated sentence. I'm as healthy as a Rosinante. (Can you tell I've been rereading Cervantes?)
I shall now settle in to watch the latest loser, Chris Christie, enter the Great Republican Tail-Chase.