I have to apologize to my adoring fans for not having written lately. OK…. there is only ONE of you who follows my blog and I don’t know that I can say that you ADORE me….. please allow me my imaginings.
Anyway… I have not written because I have had nothing to write about.
Today changed that.
It all started last night when I took some bedding out of the dryer and headed up to make Liam’s bed. By the time I hit the top of the stairs my heart was pounding. It felt like it was going to bust its way out of my chest. As I leaned over to tuck the corner under on the top of his mattress I felt light headed and short of breath. I guess it was obvious to Liam because he asked if I was OK and I told him I was short of breath so he offered to finish making his bed.
I thanked him and headed downstairs my heart still pounding. Hard and fast. I lay down on my bed and tried to relax. Frankly I was scared to death but after about half an hour the heavy fast beating slowed and was more normal. I sat up in bed and watch an episode of Mad Men on my laptop.
Further trips up stairs resulted in the quick hard beat. Scared again but trying not to panic I climbed into bed to stay at 9:30 and turned out the light. I did not hurt. There was no numbness or tingling in my left arm or jaw.
I fell asleep quickly.
………………………
Fast forward to work.
At close to 10, I experienced the same symptoms. So I called my doctor and he told me to come in for 3.
Fast forward again because everything in between then and 2:15 is nothing to write about.
Once I got in to see my doctor he asked me some questions, checked my heart rate then gave me some forms to take to the lab and a number to call to schedule a 24 hour heart monitor.
Here’s where the trials and tribulations begin.
Backtrack a wee bit..
When I entered the doctor’s office they requested my OHIP card. I couldn’t find it but, no big deal. I was still able to see my doctor but was told to call OHIP because it’s time to get a new card.
Now let’s fast forward back to the lab.
My doctor requested and ECG and some blood work to check my iron and thyroid levels. He told me that low thyroid could cause the symptoms I experienced or even menopause.
The lab took my requisition then told me to take a number. In the past the lack of my OHIP card was not an issue. This time it was. I tore my purse apart to try and find the card. They would not take my blood or perform the ECG without my card, but told me I could pay cash up front and get reimbursed later. So, again, I dig into my purse to find my debit card. Nope, I was sure I saw it earlier. I looked again. No debit card. Now guess who is hormonal and starts to cry in frustration. Embarrassed, I apologize and turn away to call the Hospital to book the heart monitor. To be on the safe side I ask if they needed my OHIP card before they hook me up and I was grateful to find that they didn’t. They just need the number. I book the hook up for Friday at 3. At this point the girl in the lab tells me I can likely renew my OHIP card in Bracebridge tomorrow and then with paper in hand head directly to the lab there downtown in the old armory building. I thanked her then moved out into the lobby to insert my parking pass into the machine that will tell me how much I have to pay to get out of the parking lot. AGAIN, I dig into my purse and fortunately find the ticket and insert it.
$4. Is due so I dig in to find change. Nope not enough change. I possess a Loonie and a quarter. “Crap” Oh, but HERE is my debit card. And the lab is now closed. “ Crap” The machine won’t take Debit. It wants a credit card. I knew I did not have enough on the credit card to pay the lab but maybe there is 4 bucks on it. I swipe and YAY!!! It marks my ticket in whatever magical way it does so the gate will let me pass into the outside world.
Everything gets packed back into my purse, yet again, and I venture outside. Across the parking lot I see the last flicker of my headlights and break into a run, at least to the best of my ability. Fearing a potential heart attack and lack of strength in my muscles gives me a quick, clumsy walk at best. And honestly the chances of me getting there fast enough to prevent the inevitable is pretty slim.
Like I said it was the last flicker of my headlights.
I clamber in, putting the bottomless pit that I call a purse on the passenger seat beside me and plunge the key into the ignition.
Click – click – click – click. Grind. Over and over again. And here are the tears again.
I try again, 4 more times just in case by some miracle it starts after all. I hold my breath the first time. ‘Cause you just never know… that might help.
The next time I bite my lip. Maybeee maaaaybeee.. nope. “CRAP!!!”
Now about I scrunch up my face like I just smelled something bad. AND hold my breath at the same time. “CRAP CRAP CRAP!!!!”
Then I just cry and hope the ‘Almighty’ will take some pity on this pathetic human who just wants to go home at this point and curl up into the fetal position and feel sorry for herself.
NOPE…..”CRAP!! and a few other nastier words escape my lips.
I pull out my phone. It’s at least not fallen into the great void that is my purse, and I call Roger who thankfully is awake.
I sob out my situation and ask for help. He tells me to call CAA cause it will be at least an hour before he can get to where I am. And CAA is sure to be to me in far less time. I hang up on him as the words fall out of his mouth.
More sobbing.
I take some time to calm down and descend into my purse one more time. Looking for my CAA card. I find it and call. She asks the address of where I am. I don’t know the address. I try my best to give her my location. She tells me it will be about 2 hours before anyone can get to me.
And offers to give me a reference number if I need to call back.
Pen.
I don’t have one that I know of and so help me, if I have to dig into that devil purse again I will lose my mind.
I spot it on the floor.. in the slush.. a bit of a broke pencil which must have originally come from my sons nap sack. I pick it up and chew off some of the wood to expose the lead. I look at the ticket to freedom thinking I will write it on there but am afraid of voiding it in some way.
To the rescue is the little hideaway campartment in my arm rest where I keep all sort of other crap, including odd bits of paper and change. I open it and on the top is an empty envelope that once contained a bill. I write down the number and thank her at which point she asks if there is anything else she can do for me. What? Seriously? That’s a long list right about now and I don’t think she can deliver a dose of sanity over the phone to me.
“No thank you” I mumble as pleasantly as I can muster and I wish her a nice day and hang up.
More sobbing…some all out bawling. Then I call Roger back and between fits of crying and those little annoying hiccupy things you get when you cry hard, I let him know It could be 2 hours before CAA arrived.
At some point he, in the painfully drawn out conversation, says “surely someone at work can give you a boost.” at which point I tell him I am in Huntsville.
“Oh” he says “I assumed you were at work. Where are you?” I tell him where I am. He asks if I have booster cables. And I tell him I did but they are in the shed in my emergency kit because we had to empty my trunk to get the flooring. A lot of good that kit does me there, I think, and then I think that it’s a good thing He didn’t say to me what I just thought. I suggested he look in the shed. He says it’s a mess and he’d never see them. I than ask him about the ones in his old car which is still parked in the garage, and he says he emptied the truck and they might be in the shed.
It’s turning into a big bad circle of CRAP.
I tell him I am putting down the phone and I proceed to empty my trunk into the parking lot.
Washer fluid
brake fluid
5 bottles of gas line antifreeze
two blue micro suede cushions
two fold up camp chairs, one green, one black.
bottles of water, frozen
a small Dust Buster car vac
a foot operated air pump.
And a shitake mushroom log in a black garbage bag, but NO booster cables.
I put it all back in my trunk and pick up the phone.
I hear Roger breathing heavy as he is doing whatever it is he is doing on the other end. He finally picks up and says.”I have found some. It turns out I didn’t empty my trunk after all. I will be right over.” And about 15 minutes later he shows up.
After figuring out what side the batteries are on in each of the cars he hooks me up and in minutes I am running. He leaves and I follow close behind. It hasn’t been 15 minutes for him so he gets to pass without paying. I insert the ticket and the machine feels compeled to inform me I now owe an additional dollar. Yay. I have one of those in my secret compartment under my arm rest. I fish it out thinking.” This is OK. Something is working” The I realize there is no coin slot.
Say it with me now….”CRAP!!!”
I now DUMP the purse on the seat and search with reckless abandon through the pile of ‘stuff’. Carelessly shoving things aside as I hunt for the damned credit card. Some items falling on to the floor into the slush. I don’t care. I spot the card and shove it into the slot. A message flashes on the screen. ‘Waiting for Approval’ and I panic. “What if it isn’t approved? What do I do then? Call Roger to come back with credit car in hand? The building is now all locked up and the parking lot empty with the exception of some employees cars outside. I could back up and drive up to the hospital and draw some money out of the Debit machine, but there is now a line of cars behind me waiting their turn to insert their tickets to freedom.
after what felt like an eternity “Approved” flashed on the screen and the gate lifts and I breath a big sigh and head home.
At home I left the car running to charge the battery and I asked Roger how long it would take.
“Maybe an hour” he says.
“CRAP” I say. “I will run out of gas before that”
So bless his heart, he goes out and turns off the car and hooks me up to some charger he has.
In the morning I must remember to unplug the charger so I don’t drag it down the highway behind me…….
And to buy gas before leaving town.
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
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Of COURSE I adore you!
ReplyDeleteOh you poor little lamb! You should have called Dave! He would have rescued you!
And what's up with your heart? Have you had your bloodwork done yet?
Stupid labs and their stupid rules.
Oh Lynda, I DO feel badly for you!
Please have a better day tomorrow!!!!
Crap! That's the kind of day that makes me suicidal. I hope you've recouperated and had some damn good days since then.
ReplyDeleteAlmost...almost. Don't even ask me about last night.
ReplyDelete