I’m sure many of my Esteemed Readers are waiting with the clichéd Bated Breath, waiting for me to post some sort of Epic Piece o’ Doggerel based on last weekend’s Hysterics at Eric’s...
...alas, you will have to wait a bit longer, as I have been preoccupied with other weighty matters... but I will not disappoint you...
[after a weekend at Eric’s, I apparently still need to brush the ellipses off my pants]
Today had all kinds of little adventures. Morning minyan, followed by breakfast with Da Boyz... nothing too unusual there. Then, off to the dentist, there to repair a filling that went AWOL a couple of weeks ago, leaving a strange notch at the base of my right mandibular second premolar.
Novocain? Eet ees for pooseez.
Upon leaving the dentist’s lair, I discovered to my dismay that the Elissonmobile would not start. I suspected a dead battery - mine was over four years old and living on borrowed time - a diagnosis that was confirmed (and quickly remedied) by Triple-A. That enabled me to get back home in time to meet She Who Must Be Obeyed, who had taken time off school to accompany me to the cardiologist.
Yes, the Heart-Doc. Not that I was having any problems, mind you... but SWMBO is notably testy about these matters, given that her daddy suffered a fatal infarct at the tender age of fifty-seven. My age. And so we were going to get me a baseline stress test... and find out the results of the calcium scoring cardiac CT scan I had had two weeks prior.
The stress test is no big deal. They wire you up and put you on a treadmill, taking your blood pressure and running EKG’s periodically as you take what amounts to a brisk uphill walk. As they speed up the belt and jack up the incline, your heart rate and BP head north. I guess if you don’t keel over, you pass.
I got a clean bill of health - hooray! - along with the expected Supplemental Instructions: lose a few pounds, get more exercise, etc. Believe me, it’s a relief to know that your heart is happily functional.
A bit of shopping - SWMBO is making breakfast for a hundred of her closest Work-Buddies - and dinner, and here I am.
Oy.
...alas, you will have to wait a bit longer, as I have been preoccupied with other weighty matters... but I will not disappoint you...
[after a weekend at Eric’s, I apparently still need to brush the ellipses off my pants]
Today had all kinds of little adventures. Morning minyan, followed by breakfast with Da Boyz... nothing too unusual there. Then, off to the dentist, there to repair a filling that went AWOL a couple of weeks ago, leaving a strange notch at the base of my right mandibular second premolar.
Novocain? Eet ees for pooseez.
Upon leaving the dentist’s lair, I discovered to my dismay that the Elissonmobile would not start. I suspected a dead battery - mine was over four years old and living on borrowed time - a diagnosis that was confirmed (and quickly remedied) by Triple-A. That enabled me to get back home in time to meet She Who Must Be Obeyed, who had taken time off school to accompany me to the cardiologist.
Yes, the Heart-Doc. Not that I was having any problems, mind you... but SWMBO is notably testy about these matters, given that her daddy suffered a fatal infarct at the tender age of fifty-seven. My age. And so we were going to get me a baseline stress test... and find out the results of the calcium scoring cardiac CT scan I had had two weeks prior.
The stress test is no big deal. They wire you up and put you on a treadmill, taking your blood pressure and running EKG’s periodically as you take what amounts to a brisk uphill walk. As they speed up the belt and jack up the incline, your heart rate and BP head north. I guess if you don’t keel over, you pass.
I got a clean bill of health - hooray! - along with the expected Supplemental Instructions: lose a few pounds, get more exercise, etc. Believe me, it’s a relief to know that your heart is happily functional.
A bit of shopping - SWMBO is making breakfast for a hundred of her closest Work-Buddies - and dinner, and here I am.
Oy.
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