To Hubby's credit he said, "You told me last time, to call you. I'm calling you."

I agreed to stay at work because the doctors said there were good odds he'd be out by nine tonight if not sooner. They'd have let him go at the time except he's in the high-risk category. This is precisely what he had last time and why he's chatting with the electro-cardiologist and is on the fucking rat poison and rhythm drugs. (I hate coumedin. Life-saving, useful, etc., blah blah, I don't care. There are about two dozen common foods he can't eat while on it and it gives him nose bleeds and--it's rat poison! I can't help the knee-jerk response that says I should stop people from forcing my husband to take rat poison.)

Anyway. I'll go to the hospital after work and see when they can let me take him home. He's promised to call if the situation changes.

My aunt is on the rat poison. My f-i-l is, too. It's good stuff, for rat poison.

Slow beatma to your dh, connie, and some peace and confidence for you.

Memo

TO: connie's DH, specifically his heart

FROM: Me

RE: Behaving as it's supposed to

Please be aware that thumping out a conga rhythm is expressly forbidden in this hospital. It disturbs the patients, and more specifically the patient whose blood you are pumping right now faster than the drum solo in Wipeout.

Please bring the beat down to a slow foxtrot and we will allow you to shuffle right out the door. Your human, and his wife, will be ever so grateful.

If you have any questions, listen to some Frank Sinatra for the suggested tempo. Have a nice day.

Only, she got bored, and I was on the phone. So she broke the bookshelf, stripped the screw holes, broke the wood. It's... I don't know if I can fix it, but it doesn't look like it. A mostly constructed 72 inch bookshelf. It weighs three times her weight. I don't even know how she did it.

{{{Deena}}}

~ma to Connie's dh.

Oh, yikes, Connie. Much heart~ma going out.

Much heart~ma to connie's DH.

"You gotta have heart, you gotta have heart."

Welcome to the manic part of our show.

"When the odds are saying you'll never win/That's when the grin should start."

connie, slow-heartbeat~ma to the hubby. Hope they get it under control, ASAP.

{{{{Kristin}}}}

Much heart~ma to Connie's DH.

ION, I am feeling stressed and crabby over the home inspection and a wide array of small but pestiferous things. It's like being nibbled to death by ducks while there's a wolf at the door. My startle reflex is out of whack (the cat is lucky to be alive, oh yes he is) and I feel like I have road rage while sitting still.

I need to make a list of the small, pestiferous things so I can start killing them off one at a time rather than feel like they're hanging around my head in an ill-defined cloud.

The bid danger to me when I feel like this is that I'll fritter away the evening and get to the end feeling even more stressed because I haven't done anything.