I want to thank everyone for their prayers and good thoughts! They were very effective and even efficacious (there’s your vocabulary word for today.)

Yesterday morning they did that left cardiac catheterization on Hubby. My sister-in-law and her husband came to sit with me in the waiting room, as Mama couldn’t even walk (the stress fired up her arthritis, and she made her stomach all messed up to boot). We were pretty nervous, but things turned out well. He had an 85% block (!) in the front artery in his left ventricle, but the other two were okay. They put in a stent to correct the block and told us that from now on he has to live the good lifestyle with diet and exercise. They think there’s a strong genetic component, as my in-laws both had bypass surgery in their early sixties. And of course hubby has only just turned 48! So he’s too young for this. Fortunately, I think he got the message in God’s “wake-up call.” He has been talking the talk and has asked them to send him to cardiac rehab exercise so he can figure out what’s safe for him to do and ease into it. Also has had me loaded down with South Beach Diet info (that’s what the doctor puts his patients on) and with all the lists of vitamins/supplements that the doctor gives to all his heart patients. They kept him overnight because there are things to watch for, but he stood up without having any bleeding from the incision and has been feeling okay (except that the entire hospital was freezing cold yesterday and today is ultra-hot . . . I knew they’d overcorrect when everyone complained–it’s 21 outside!)

He got a private room because they didn’t have any other rooms (we sat in recovery from 9 AM to 12:45 noonish waiting!), and that room had a small sofa and was a “suite.” Really nice. But it was on a ward where everyone else was fairly seriously ill (bummer). I landed on the couch and propped my knee up while he was poked, prodded, and tested and then left to lie flat for 4 to 6 hours (it used to be 12 hours!) We watched the various cable TV offerings, all the way through to “R U Smarter than a 5th Grader” and Wayne Brady’s “Don’t Forget the Lyrics,” and then I came home to try to rest, recover, and clean up a little.

I just called up there and he said they took blood at 3AM and 5AM and he’s ready to come home NOW, but the discharge paperwork probably won’t come until noon or thereabouts. I’m fixin’ to head out there and bring him home. Our dog sulked and pined and whined all day and his grandma says she is not keeping him any more, as he wouldn’t eat, stared at her accusingly as if it were her fault that his people were gone all day and Daddy didn’t come back with me last night, and just fussed like a jackass. This is normal for a pampered Pom, of course. He’s still fussing, but I told him Daddy was “at work” and that I was going off to get him soon.

If he thinks I’m going to cook stuff as elaborate as those hospital meals . . . well, we’ll see. Their Monterey Chicken on Mexican Rice looked pretty good. (grin) I know my iced tea beats theirs in a bucket, though.

I almost posted this update last night from one of their public computers in the Surgery Waiting room, but I realized I’d have to log in to LJ, and didn’t want my password vulnerable. I’d never be able to remember a new one. (grin) It’s a rockin’ hospital that has two public Web-connected computers in the waiting room AND has wi-fi throughout the public waiting areas. . . .


Author: shalanna

Shalanna: rhymes with "Madonna" and "I wanna," and is not a soundalike with "Hosanna" or "Sha-Na-Na." Aging hippie with long hair, husband, elderly mother, and yappy Pomeranian. I've been writing since I could hold a crayon. I started with fiction, which Mama said was "lying." “Don’t tell stories,” she would admonish, in Southern vernacular. “That's all in your imagination!” When grownups said this, they were not approving. So, shamed, I stopped telling stories for a few years--rather, I stopped letting anyone read them. I'm married to a fellow computer nerd who doesn't really like hearing about writing, but who reads sf/fantasy and understands the creative drive. I'm actually a nonconformist/hippie still wearing bluejeans and drop earrings and the Alice-in-Wonderland hair with headbands and sandals. Favorite flavor is chocolate/orange, favorite color is either Dreamsicle orange (cantaloupe) or bubble-gum pink, favorite musical is either Bye Bye Birdie, Rocky Horror, or The Producers . . . wait, I also love The Music Man. Is this getting way too specific and irrelevant yet? Obvious why I don't sell a ton of flash fiction, isn't it? To define oneself, I always say, it is good to make a list. How about a booklist? Harper Lee, To Kill a Mockingbird Frank and Ernestine Gilbreth, Cheaper by the Dozen C.S.Lewis, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe (all the Narnia books) J.R.R.Tolkien,The Hobbit/LORD OF THE RINGS trilogy Gail Godwin, The Odd Woman F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby J. D. Salinger, Catcher in the Rye (before dismissing it, actually read it) George Orwell, 1984 Kurt Vonnegut, Cat's Cradle Donna Tartt, The Secret History Mark Twain, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn James Allen, As A Man Thinketh Mark Winegardner, Elvis Presley Boulevard James Thurber, My Life and Hard Times The Wizard of Oz, L. Frank Baum Winnie-the-Pooh/House at Pooh Corner, A. A. Milne Peter Pan, J. M. Barrie The KJV and NIV Bible (each translation has its glories)

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