film at eleven
Well, this day has been a complete wash. I woke up in slow-mo and I've been slow-mo all day. Even by noon when everyone else in the world is up and about I still couldn't stop yawning and succumbing to gravity. I checked my blood pressure: 88/40. Well, hell, that explains it. And I know what they'd do if I presented in the ER with a reading like that, but truthfully there's not much more they could do for me there that I can't do at home. So I just go on drinking Gatorade and drawing in my sketchbook.
The pulse reads around 44 on the cuff, which of course isn't at all right. The pacemaker prevents the pulse from ever going that low. All that indicates to me is that there's an arrythmia going on (which I already know, I can feel it) and it's not picking up but every other (or every other-other) heartbeat. Because I can feel it pounding like the gallop of a six-legged horse. It's many things, but it ain't weak. That much I know for sure.
Friends and family keep asking what brought this on. I honestly don't know. Some days are good and some days aren't as good but the good days outnumber the bad so I don't count 'em up. My mom has called about a dozen times and I keep telling her I'm fine. Then other people ask her how I'm doing and she tells them I'm in terrible health and could die any minute, or something.
That might be overstating the case a bit. No need for alarm.
It always begs that question -- when do you tell the truth and when do you just gloss over the obvious with a lie or *cough* an otherwise bluff answer to forestall any further lines of questioning. Everyone knows when someone says "Hi, how are you?" they don't really want to know that your cat birthed puppies and the mailman stole your shoes.
So you just nod and say, "Fine, can't complain" (my favorite) "How about you?"
The turn-around trick is a conversational ploy I've exercised for years and years. When I answer a question with a question it might mean something. Unfortunately my friends have caught on to this manuever and now I have to think up something else. Maybe I should start carrying firecrackers to throw when I want to create a diversion. Though there might be certain laws against that.
Anyway, I'd only mention it because my mom has talked to a lot of people today and a lot of those same people read my site: just so you know, I'm not dead. Just real tired. There's a difference. The chances are slim to none I'd ever give up the right to vote, see. And even if I do technically live in the South most of us are still required by law to have a heartbeat if we want to put our two cents in.
So I'm just fine. Really.
The pulse reads around 44 on the cuff, which of course isn't at all right. The pacemaker prevents the pulse from ever going that low. All that indicates to me is that there's an arrythmia going on (which I already know, I can feel it) and it's not picking up but every other (or every other-other) heartbeat. Because I can feel it pounding like the gallop of a six-legged horse. It's many things, but it ain't weak. That much I know for sure.
Friends and family keep asking what brought this on. I honestly don't know. Some days are good and some days aren't as good but the good days outnumber the bad so I don't count 'em up. My mom has called about a dozen times and I keep telling her I'm fine. Then other people ask her how I'm doing and she tells them I'm in terrible health and could die any minute, or something.
That might be overstating the case a bit. No need for alarm.
It always begs that question -- when do you tell the truth and when do you just gloss over the obvious with a lie or *cough* an otherwise bluff answer to forestall any further lines of questioning. Everyone knows when someone says "Hi, how are you?" they don't really want to know that your cat birthed puppies and the mailman stole your shoes.
So you just nod and say, "Fine, can't complain" (my favorite) "How about you?"
The turn-around trick is a conversational ploy I've exercised for years and years. When I answer a question with a question it might mean something. Unfortunately my friends have caught on to this manuever and now I have to think up something else. Maybe I should start carrying firecrackers to throw when I want to create a diversion. Though there might be certain laws against that.
Anyway, I'd only mention it because my mom has talked to a lot of people today and a lot of those same people read my site: just so you know, I'm not dead. Just real tired. There's a difference. The chances are slim to none I'd ever give up the right to vote, see. And even if I do technically live in the South most of us are still required by law to have a heartbeat if we want to put our two cents in.
So I'm just fine. Really.
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