I’m fortunate. I’ve got a patient girlfriend — Vickie. She loves me despite my scruffiness. She’s a helluva woman — but she has to be to put up with my idiosyncracies, moodiness, habits and persona. But that’s another story.
I’m sure you know by now that I spent a spell in the VA Hospital in Durham. Chest pains. It started hurting the other day as Vickie and I were heading to Durham so she could followup with the docs on some surgery she had last month.
The closer we got to the VA the more it hurt. When we got to the hospital, I told her I was gonna go get checked out in the ER while she went and did her thing. That alone should tell you how bad I was hurting. For me to voluntarily go see a doc is saying something.
Anyway, they poked, prodded, stuck me with needles and told me they were gonna admit me. An hour later I found myself up on the 7th floor hooked up to lights, sirens, buzzers and such. Fortunately I had a TV at my disposal, so I got caught up on all the Lifetime TV Network one person can stand.
More poking and prodding — I never knew so much blood could come out of one individual. Then the next morning it was the stress test. I won’t bore you with those details. But they did send me home with Nicorette Lozenges. Now instead of reaching for a cigarette, I’m trying to get in the habit of reaching for candied nicotine. Hard adjustment to make.
So the final word from the docs is I had a mild heart attack. Nothing major and no, if you think you’re in my will, don’t start spending the money first.
I’ve got a girlfriend to spend it on. Am I gonna slow down any? Nope. If her schedule allows it, I’m gonna take her dancing tonight.