Suziecreamcheese Sings the Blues

We went for a walk this morning. Walkng Maverick has become training time, I’m tired of hurting everywhere and being dragged around, so we do a lot of stop and turn and go in the other direction because he loves to pull and he dearly loves to pull across me. I can deal with the pulling but when he’s going across me, it throws everything out of whack, and I’m already wacky enough! We’ve also had issues with other dogs -or so I thought, until Mr. Social Butterfly shocked the bejinkies out of me during training class by wanting nothing more than to observe the other dogs with friendly interest. Since then, we’ve been ditching the “head for the field” routine we’ve practiced and passing on the sidewalk with a good deal of space and a whole lot of “ignore, good boy!” going on.

Today’s walk included an idiot with some sort of poo-whore (if it’s a “doodle,” it’s got a poo-whore in its background) (I like poodles, but they’ve come the whores of the dog world. “Want a mutt? Hey, I got a poodle you can breed with whatever you’ve got and we’ll give it a fancy name and make a lot of money off people who don’t know they’re getting a mutt!) (Yes, I’m a breed snob) I saw him coming, and stopped to assess the situation. If there’s a flexi lead involved, we head for the field. The man saw us, and instead of continuing to move, he stopped, and started feeding the dog treats. Okay, I get that he was training his dog, but if you’re going to do that, get off the path so we can pass. Nah, he wasn’t moving, so we took to the field.

The next bit of dumbfuckery was the idiots with the GSD off leash. We were close enough to my car that we just got in, while I muttered things like “I hope your dog doesn’t come over here because mine will probably teach him a lesson.” and “don’t tell me your dog is bomb proof” and “there’s a dog park on the other side of town, assholes.” Normally I would have approached the person after I got Maverick in the car and offered a friendly bit of advice. (I tell people, “while your dog may be friendly to other dogs, mine isn’t always and if your dog runs up to him, it will most likely be a fight, so you’d probably be wise to keep yours on leash.” Should they get snotty, I tell them there’s a rule at the park about dogs being on leash at all times, and walk away.) I don’t do confrontations, I try to be nice about it but don’t fuck around with my dog’s safety.

There were several little yappy dogs on flexi leads. We ignored them. I told Maverick he could get lunch when we got home. (I once told someone, who picked up her child in a total state of terror when I approached with Max, who adored every child he every met, that she needn’t worry, he’d already had lunch. She didn’t find it amusing. Some people have no sense of humor)

We also passed through several groups of people who were staring at their phones while standing firmly in the middle of the sidewalk. I have no problem with using the elbows God gave me on those idiots. I can almost see their brains being sucked out of their heads and into those little screens.

Happy Easter, everyone. It’s a lovely day to forgive the dumbnuts in this world and focus on the fact that Maverick didn’t bark at anyone or bite anyone today. 🙂

I’m one of THOSE people. The ones who get seriously hangry, really fast. I can be going along happily and then suddenly realize that I’m hungry. In about five hot minutes, I’m not just hungry, I’m “feed me the fuck now or live with the consequences” hungry. It doesn’t happen often these days, because 99% of the time, I’m in charge of feeding myself and I’m sure as heck not going to let myself go hungry.

(As an aside, I totally do not understand people, or dogs, who have little to no interest in food and can happily go without eating for ages. Yes, Maverick, I’m looking at you.)

(Also, Maverick will totally nosh down happily on treats but a bowl of freakin expensive damned dog food, and he only gets the best, is poison.)

(Yes, Mommah is a tad frustrated by this behavior)

Tonight, for the first time in a long time, Bear was in charge of making dinner. Dinner around here normally happens between 8 and 8:30. Yes, I know that’s late for many people, but we’ve been second shift people for so many years that eating before midnight is still considered a tad early for us. I bought cod on Friday because it was actually affordable for the first time in ages, and he’s in charge of dinner when we have any kind of fish. (I can cook fish but he thinks he does it better and hey, I’m okay with someone else doing the cooking on occasion!)

It’s been a crazy weekend. Friday night was our bi-weekly dinner and diamonds with my bestest friends. (Except Peachy, cuz she was being lazy) We’ve been dealing with car issues, both of our vehicles are almost 20 years old and can no longer be trusted for any more than local trips. We’ve been looking for a new vehicle – and somehow got wires crossed with both of us thinking the other was looking for something that neither of us wanted. We need all wheel drive, Bear thought I wanted an SUV, I thought he did. That little blip got straightened out on Friday and I resumed the search for something we could afford. The first car I saw on a local dealer’s website was a cute little blue Subaru Impreza that said “Hi, it’s me, you know you love me!” Mmmhmm

So Saturday being a day of rain and generally stupid weather, we made the drive to the dealer to check this baby out. Apparently she whispered in the Bear’s ear as well. We’re bringing her home this week.

I’m still feeling like “did we seriously just buy a car?” and slightly gobsmacked. When that happens, it’s pretty much always a good thing. It’s been forever since I had a car payment, I feel like a kid again! (Interest rates will make you vomit, however. Thanks, Joe)

There’s kind of a lot I want to say about the current political climate but I can’t put my thoughts into words – too much emotion at the moment.

So…………Maverick and I started a training class. Basic obedience level 2, we did level 1 four years ago, and this is mostly review but we need the refresher. I was a total stressed out mess last night because of his issues with other dogs and because the first class we did, he totally couldn’t focus on me at all. It was so bad I think they passed us just to get rid of us. (DON’T LET THEM COME BACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) I had all intentions of taking more classes but then Covid hit and that was the end of that. Then I got him into daycare and it seemed like maybe it wasn’t necessary. (It was) So …………..I picked him up at 5:30, gave him a calming chew, and off we went. I went into the building first, got his mat down and his treats out – we had a veritable smorgasbord of treats – and then got him out of the car. He pulled me into the building! I’m not sure if he remembers the place from 3 years ago, but he was happy to be there. We went into the far corner, probably 12 feet from the closest dog, a border collie. Maverick was very interested in all the dogs, very excited, but did not react badly at all. He and the border collie were eyeballing each other, I think two guys sort of being guys, but that was fine, no growls or even hackles raised. He still didn’t focus on me a lot, but I did get some behaviors from him and the instructors got him to do what was asked as well.

I had gone in expecting the worst, that he would growl at the other dogs, that we would get kicked out, that he would physically hurt me (he’s been beating me up a lot lately). When class was over, I did have to hold on tightly to get him to the car without dragging me but I knew he was done, ready to go home. l went back inside to get our stuff, told the instructor that I had been so nervous and she looked surprised, said, “he did really well!” My heart just swelled with pride. I smiled all the way home, almost cried I was so relieved and so happy. We’ve come a long way since that first class that was such a disaster. And I’m motivated, there will be more classes in our future if I have anything to say about it. (And I do)

We used to eat a lot of French Fries at my house. When I met the Bear, the only things in his fridge were beer and take out containers.

Seriously.

We were so far apart in our eating habits, I guess we’re proof that opposites attract and that love can conquer all. 🙂

He taught me to love French Fries, I convinced him that a salad was not actually going to poison him. Over the years, our diets have changed, when he was diagnosed as pre-diabetic, we had a very long talk with our family doctor (a very sweet man who finds it amusing that I called him Dr. G for two years before one day asking if he minded, and who takes the time to answer any and all questions we have.. He also has never once pushed the jab and that alone makes me love him) who told us what to avoid to get the numbers down and keep them there.

(Pre-diabetes is reversable, but once it goes into the real thing, it’s not. Or so I understand. I’m not a doctor, I just ask a lot of questions. )

So a half bag of French Fries for supper became a quarter bag, and fried foods and take out were pretty much eliminated The numbers came down and stayed down, and while we do indulge more now than we did at first, we’re still careful.

All that said, Friday nights have always been Fish Fry Fridays. I get the breaded haddock squares and we pull out the deep fryer and have a fish sandwich and French Fries. (Currently I’m addicted to sweet potato fries) (I know you don’t care, but I overshare at times, so hush)

Today is grocery day. This is a day that lately makes me cringe because dear Jebus, what went up in price this week? Well, this week it was French Fries. From $2.99 a bag to $5.49.

I kid you not

I am not happy. I could handle $7 a dozen eggs. I wasn’t pleased, but I dealt with it. But FRENCH FRIES? This is blasphemy. My husband, dear man that he is, explained that the price of gas is up and so the truckers have to pay more and it trickles down to the price of everything increasing.

Yes, Dear, I am aware. I am highly educated and almost as smart as I’m precious. I really don’t care about all that hoohah, however. I care that my damned French Fries have gotten almost too expensive for my weekly indulgence.

Damn it, I miss mean tweets!

That’s what I am. Well, not so much of a girl anymore, or so my body tells me, although I still feel like a kid most days. I live in the country. There’s a horse farm just up the road, a cattle farm at the end of the road, another cattle farm on the other end of the road. The guy next door has rabbits and goats. My 87 year old neighbor has chickens. Directly behind us, separated by a very large field, is another farm – I think they grow hay, not really sure, there’s a line of trees separating us and I don’t pay much attention till they cut the hay and the big machines make big noises and Maverick feels that he needs to protect me from them. We’re used to farm smells and farm noises. When people talk about rural America, I guess this is what they mean.

I’ve been hearing about “15 minute cities,” where you can walk to everything in 15 minutes and there’s no need to drive. It takes me 15 minutes to walk to my neighbor’s house. It’s 5 miles to town – where there’s a grocery store, some fast food places, an Italian restaurant, a Chinese restaurant (that isn’t very good) and a hardware store. There’s also a few medical places and a plethora of car dealers. I love this town, but if I want much variety, it’s off to one of the bigger cities for us. I’m not sure where these people who think a 15 minute city is a good idea live, but I invite them to come visit us anytime and see how the real world lives. And then stop telling me how I should live – go back and live in their cities if they like, but remember where their food comes from.

One of the farms about 1/2 mile over on the next road is for sale. The house on the property is a total wreck, there are 4 outbuildings that have also seen better days, and the property is crossed by the road – this is a road where the posted speed limit is 40 mph and if you go that slow, people will pass you on the corners. The owner is asking a pretty steep price – it’s 27 acres but the house would have to be torn down, or a whole ton of renovations done. It’s not worth the asking price, honestly. However. Apparently companies who are creating solar farms are really into buying up farm land and putting solar panels all over the land.

The neighbors are not in favor. Recently, a big company came to town, invited by a group of people who together own about 700 acres of land. They want to turn all of that into a solar farm. There was no ordinance for or against this, so they sat down with the board of supervisors and helped them write one. (Collusion much? Nah) After 7 months of bitter battles, the variance was passed to allow them to do this.

I am not opposed to solar by any means. I am opposed to turning farm land into solar farms, displacing the wild life and creating an eyesore when there are so many alternatives. Even our esteemed governor is pushing to put solar panels on the roofs of factories, or in parking lots, and not on agricultural properties.

So here we go again. The zoning board published a notice in the newspaper, which is technically all they have to do, but which no one sees. Social media strikes – it got posted that there was a meeting and a lot of people showed up. The company did a presentation – I’ve seen a lot of presentations and created more than a few and I can honestly say this was one of the worst I’ve ever seen. Then it was time for questions from the public. Here’s a hint. If you know that your project is controversial, that most people don’t want it to happen, come prepared with answers to any and all possible questions. I would say that 50% of the time, the answers were “I don’t know, I’m not sure.” And then there was little miss attorney, who was too special to stand up and speak into the mic so if she did answer questions, no one could really hear her.

Nothing was decided. There’s another meeting in two weeks. Hopefully they’ll have answers, because we have a lot more questions.

In other news, some moron brought a sick dog to daycare today and the day has gone straight to hell since I got a call saying come get Maverick now. We’re praying that exposure was limited to a minute and that everyone will be fine – and that daycare will be open tomorrow!

And then the software we use to do our taxes refused to co-operate. Thinking I’d at least get a reward for this cluster fuck of a day by getting a delivery from Amazon, I checked my orders – to see that my stuff would be delivered by USPS by 9 pm. Umm, my mail was delivered at 11 am. So I called Amazon and was assured that indeed, the package would be arriving tonight. I hung up, rechecked and watched the status change to “we’re sorry, your package was delayed and will now be arriving tomorrow.” A return call – because I don’t like being lied to – rewarded me with a $5 refund. Umm, yeah, thanks a lot.

One of my favorite books when I was a kid was Pollyanna. I’m really trying to find the good in all this happy horseshit today.

In the firm belief that for every problem, there’s a book with a solution (this is the result of being over-educated, by the way), I purchased this the other day:

I love this woman, she wrote Calming Signals and if you haven’t read that, I highly recommend it. I started reading it, she outlines a training program that’s pretty much what I’ve been taught before. Stop when the dog pulls, get his attention, turn around and go the other way. (There’s more than that, of course)

Normally I walk 2.5 miles at the park. I’m not happy about it, I used to do 6 miles a day, and I really want to get back to at least 4, but I’m working on it. It’s honestly the only way I can keep my weight down and since I like to eat, I need to walk. So weekends with Maverick have turned into, “let’s go do the miles!” and Maverick, who does not care about food and has no problem with his weight, looks at me like, “Great! Let’s go sniff!” Walking miles while pausing for frequent sniff breaks are not compatible.

So today I made a decision to focus not on miles but on time – to work on the pulling and not worry about how far we got. It took us 45 minutes to go 1.15 miles. (That seriously cracked me up, it takes me 48 minutes to do 2.5 on a good day) The first ten minutes were a whole lot of stop, get attention, turn, walk back in the opposite direction. We did not get very far. At this point I was laughing to myself. The first “loop” at the park is 1/2 mile and my goal was to get around that loop. It took about 10 turns before Maverick got this “oh for crying out loud” look when I turned him around, but he started actually turning himself when I stopped. Really? I know!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Was it a total success? Hell no, it took 45 minutes to go a mile, people! However, we made progress. I made notes – because that overeducated thing, you have to take notes and keep track and stuff – and I know that we both need to do some hard work.

I am feeling slightly optimistic I’m also certain that tomorrow will be hell on wheels. 🙂

There was no magic to be found in the magic collar.

Barely a quarter mile in, we stopped at a bench and put the Canny Collar back on, while Mommah cried and Maverick, in true honey badger form, did not give a fuck.

(yes, Mother, I know that I use that word too much. Right now, I also don’t give a fuck. And I know you would slap me if I said that to your face.)

So it’s looking like it’s time to call in a professional. I’ve tried everything I can think of**, and I know enough to know that nothing is an instant cure so, yes, I’ve given time and effort to this. So the research will begin to find someone I can both work with and afford.

Wish me luck

**Any and all mentions of flexi-leads will be deleted.

As I’ve blogged about (whined about) before, Maverick is not a fan of loose leash walking. (Maverick has no clue what “loose leash” means.) Our trainer/groomer/daycare lady is currently making martingale collars and donating the proceeds to various charities so of course, Maverick needed a new collar. I have decreed, because martingales are actually pretty awesome training tools, that this is “magic” collar and is going to help with our walking woes. I’m currently in the process of convincing Maverick that the collar, which is quite lovely by the way, is indeed magic.

He doesn’t seem to be totally disbelieving. I’m determined, however, and when I’m determined don’t get in my way.

My body has paid the price of having a very high energy, very smart, and very determined dog. Maverick knows what he wants and is relentless in pursuit of it. Last night, while the temperature was hovering around a balmy 20 degrees, he wanted to be outside. On the porch. Watching the deer sleep and listening to the squirrels fart. As smart as he is, the concept of freezing to death eludes him. (Apparently he tunes out those stupid ASPCA commercials) (Also, don’t give them your money, donate to your local shelters where it will actually be used to help the animals)

My refusal to allow this behavior was cause for much consternation on his part. I was quite grateful that the bottle of Bailey’s wasn’t empty.

We received a new shipment of freeze dried chicken from Gracie’s Doggie Delights

,https://graciesdoggiedelights.com/

so on Saturday, when it’s colder than a witch’s tit outside, we shall venture to the park with the Magic Collar and a pocket full of chicken, and attempt this loose leash walking thing. Pray that there are no distractions – like grass, trees, squirrels, leaves, other dogs, air……….

I’ll keep everyone posted.

Ah, Mondays. I didn’t get much sleep on Sunday night – every now and again, I just can’t sleep, and my go-to remedy for that lately has been a hot shower before bed. It didn’t work on Sunday night, so I was still awake at 3:30 am, and had to get up at 8 to get Maverick to daycare at 8:30ish. I came downstairs, let him out, went to the kitchen to make the first cup of coffee and thought, “Why are my feet wet?” I opened the doors under the sink, flood time.

We’ve had a leak under the sink for ages. (Insert minor wife rant here – if he had fixed the damned thing when it started………..) The solution was to put a pan under the drip and since it was also leaking around the faucet, put a cloth there and change it. Every. Flippin. Day. I admit to being a slacker about checking the pan under the sink, so when I saw that it was full, I blamed it on my negligence, cleaned up the mess, put the pan back and went on about my day.

I taught a class at 12:30, sent Bear off to work, and got ready to take my walk. I filled up my water bottle – side note, I have one of those Cirkul bottles and I freakin love that thing. Current flavor is black cherry. Wait, is that racist? Seriously, I love ALL cherries. Except maraschino – they’re just nasty. I digress.

As I was filling my water bottle, I thought maybe I should check under the sink. I don’t know why, intuition? At any rate, I opened the doors and holy fuck me sideways, another flood. Grrrrrrr. I got the flashlight out and I could see the drip was now steady, so I cleaned it all up – again – and put a bigger pan down, then messaged the Bear to find out how to turn off the water.

Later, I ran into a friend who told me that her husband is very good with plumbing. He came up and took a look, told me what to get, we ordered the parts and he’s going to try to fix it today. We’re getting weather and he’s busy so fingers crossed he gets here because meanwhile, I’m washing dishes in the bathroom sink. Hey, it’s not the worst thing to ever happen!

What does this have to do with egg drop soup, you ask? Well. Because of the aforementioned dish washing dilemma, we’re trying to avoid dirty dishes. Last night’s solution was to order Chinese. Bear doesn’t like Chinese so he was on his own – he brought tacos home from work for himself, he didn’t starve, geesh. I got my normal chicken and broccoli, and a big container of egg drop soup for today – in case the sink is still not fixed. I recently had egg drop soup for the first time and loved it. So I was really looking forward to having some with my dinner. I’m not sure if my expectations were too high or what, but it was just sort of bland. I was a bit disappointed, but that was tempered by the fact that I used a paper bowl so I didn’t have to do dishes!

Maverick got bronchitis for Christmas. Apparently it’s a form of kennel cough, the vet said tracheal bronchitis – his cough sounded like a goose honking. It all started last week, and went full blown on Christmas Day. Maverick was all wound up with the kids here, wouldn’t settle, just batshit crazy actually. In the afternoon, he started coughing and it got progressively worse. I got it on video, sent it to our daycare provider and she said to give him something to eat to make sure it wasn’t a blockage – it wasn’t. So I told her to keep an eye on the other dogs and I’d be going to the vet in the morning. She won’t allow a dog that might be sick and I totally respect that. I would feel horrible if we got another dog sick.

So off to the vet on Monday. He listened to Maverick’s lungs, etc, watched the video and proclaimed 3 weeks of antibiotics and keep him home for at least a week. Research has revealed that it will more than likely be 3 weeks, and possibly a month.

It appears that when I make plans, Maverick laughs. I was expecting to have a month off with Maverick going to daycare all day and Bear going to work. I was going to do some major cleaning and organizing. This will not happen. So I will be doing a lot of sewing – because Maverick naps when I’m sewing. And I might get to hoe out the overflow craft room – once he falls asleep.

New Year’s Eve plans have been cancelled, the friends who were coming up are fearful that they’ll get contaminated by Maverick’s germs (he IS highly contagious right now) and take this home to their dog, who is currently battling an infection from her spay surgery. (I told them to wait on that surgery but they didn’t listen, because everyone is an expert and they only listen to what they want to hear.) It may be just me and the Bear on New Year’s Eve for the first time in years. I’m not sure if we can handle it! (Maverick will keep us from getting too crazy.)

Yesterday I learned that someone I’ve known for a very long time is dying from cancer, and it’s progressing very quickly. I wish her a gentle passage, carried home by the wings of angels. She unfriended me a few years ago over political differences, but I didn’t stop caring about her. I was told that she’s gotten every vaccine and booster available for Covid and I refrained from saying that research is showing that those jabs exacerbate any existing cancer and make it spread like wildfire. Her daughter in law said to me, “I blame the damned jabs.” I could only agree.

So this craptastic year is coming to an end. It was not the worst, but it was not the best. It was a tough time for everyone and I honestly hope that things will soon turn around. May we all remember how much we care about each other – and put political differences aside for once. May we all remember that we want the best for each other, and respect that we will find our ways down different paths. May we all be thankful that we made it this far, and may we all make it to the end of next year with lighter hearts and happier memories.

It’s been a year of Mondays, with a few Fridays thrown in just to keep us off balance. We had an ice storm the other day so I kept Maverick home from daycare. I fully expected it to be a nothing burger and I was right but since everyone had canceled, there wasn’t much point in taking him to play with no one. I was expecting a terrible day because it was raining and he couldn’t be outside and we couldn’t go for a walk. (I’m old, I hurt when it’s cold and raining and since he pulls like he’s the lead dog and I’m the sled, it wasn’t happening) He shocked me by being amazingly good all day. We watched a couple of episodes of season 5 of The Crown – we agreed that Charles is a royal dick – and had some snacks and complained about being fat – me, not Maverick, he thinks I’m just fluffy enough to be a comfy cushion – and then he took a nap and I arranged blocks for table runners and bemoaned the fact that I couldn’t go to Hobby Lobby to see if they got in the fabric I needed (one bloody 5 inch square, that’s all I needed!).

Yesterday he made up for his goodness the day before. It was not a pleasant evening, we shall say no more.

I had a birthday. I have one every year so it’s pretty much a non-event these days, Bear said he had no clue what to get for me, so we spent the evening watching a movie together (Blacklight, with Liam Neeson, I have no idea why that was the title but the movie was pretty good, a lot of action and not much plot, but hey, Liam Neeson!) It was a very nice birthday.

It was, however, one of those numbers. Apparently I’m supposed to be old now. Apparently I don’t play by the rules and I feel no different than I did the day before the birthday that declared me officially old. (I’ll let you figure out the number) I have the same random aches and pains I’ve had for the last 20 years and they’re not much different than they were then. I forget a bit so I suspect I’ll be that old lady that loses her glasses and keys in the grocery store, but with any luck, some hot young guy will take pity on me and help me out. 🙂 (One is never too old for a hot young guy) (Trust me)

We survived the weekend and got to Monday and things were pretty good for it being a Monday. Then Tuesday decided to be Monday 2.0. It started when I lost an ear bud. I searched for that bloody thing for 1/2 hour – at the park – which meant that my 2.5 mile walk became 3 miles – and I couldn’t find it. Got home, made lunches, went to the bathroom and got hit by the worst pain in my side that I’ve ever felt. Sudden, like a kick from Chuck Norris, right into my ribs. I doubled over, gasping for a full breath. When I could, I went to the kitchen and said to Bear, “what does a broken rib feel like?” He said I wouldn’t be standing – and how could I possibly break a rib on the throne? (If anyone could, trust me, it would be me) It was easing up a bit, so I thought I’d get a shower, but as I was standing in the bathroom, still not able to breath right, I thought, “something is wrong, I need the doctor.”

Back downstairs I go, tell the Bear I’m calling the doctor, and he agrees I should. The receptionist put the nurse on the line, who hearing my symptoms, tells me to call 911. And that’s when all hell broke loose.

Here’s a hint. If you don’t want all hell to break loose, do NOT under any circumstances answer in any way affirmative to the “are you having any chest discomfort?” question.

My chest felt tight, and my entire left side was screaming, including my chest. HOLY FUCK IT’S GOTTA BE HER HEART!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (*if you want to know right now, check below)

EKG commences, the EMT says “hmmm.” “Hmmm?” I say. “well, something looks funny. We need to go to the ER.”

They took me out with no coat, no shoes, in freezing weather. By the time we got into the ambulance, my teeth were chattering. Two blown veins because she couldn’t get an IV port started later, I was starting to warm up. I had refrained from saying, “No shit, Sherlock!” when she took my hand, after I had said I was freezing several times, only to be told it was warm in there, and said “Oh my, you ARE cold!” Ya THINK????????

On to the ER, which was another chapter in the Cluster Fuck Saga. More tests, more waiting, meanwhile this pain has centered under my shoulder blade and is not getting any better. At least by then I could breathe. Bear, bless him, never left my side once they told him where I was – they left the poor guy in the waiting room for at least 30 minutes.

More tests, more waiting. Finally, after about 6 hours, they pronounce that it’s not my heart** and I can go. Umm, okay, but what is it?? They don’t know. And you’re sending me home??????????? I was NOT happy. I said that I felt that I was being shoved out the door. So off goes the nurse to talk to the doctor again. I didn’t want to stay but neither did I want this to hit again in the night and have to come back, and I wanted to know what was causing this pain that I was still experiencing. About 15 minutes later, a different doctor came in. HE actually examined me, felt the huge knot in my muscles and said “your heart is fine, you need a chiropractor or a massage.” (He wasn’t bad looking but he seemed to feel that this was the Bear’s job.) Finally I got some pain meds and a muscle relaxant and was told I could go.

A young lad came to give me a ride out to the car. I could have walked, but I do love a good wheelchair ride. He asked where my shoes were. I said, “same place as my coat, at home!’ He was a bit shocked, and said he was going to zoom me to the car as soon as it pulled up. We got to the door, he said, “Hold on!” and he ran to the car with me holding on and laughing like a kid. (That was the best part of the whole experience)

I climbed into bed and slept for 12 hours.

Today was a cardiology appointment. A very nice doctor told me to go away and not come back. He really said that! I howled with laughter. He said my heart is sound, but just a bit different from most. (As he put it, “you’re that kid on the playground with the bright red hair who’s just a bit different from all the other kids, but there’s nothing wrong with you.” I think I fell in love at that moment.) (Seriously, I love my Bear) (But one can have a tiny little doctor crush as well, I think, without breaking any vows) (I hope)

Then on to my primary, who said what we’ve all been saying, “It’s your ribs. You need a chiropractor.”

Sooooooooooooo, I guess I’m calling my chiro tomorrow!

Meanwhile, there’s candy to dip and fudge to be made and presents to be wrapped and a tree to decorate! And a hat to crochet for my youngest grandbrat that has little chance of being done, but will somehow manage to be completed by Sunday.

And the candy will be awesome.

*It wasn’t my heart

** told ya it wasn’t