Yep, I’m still here, emerging from summer hibernation in south central Texas. There’s a rumor that an approximate 10 degree drop in temperatures into the upper 80s is headed for us this weekend. The lows in the lower 60s for Saturday night has me planning to open up the windows and welcome this long-awaited cool down.

I think this will be a pattern for me, signing off on blogging during the summer. I absolutely HATE this time of year, probably just as much as people far north hate the winter months of December, January and February. Add in hot flashes, and it just sucks. I’ve finally gotten to the point I just don’t care anymore. For our 15th wedding anniversary, the doorbell rang. I had been cleaning house, a hot flash hit, and I was literally dripping sweat. Someone else answered the door and I hear my name being asked for regarding a delivery. Literally…dripping…sweat. There comes a time when you don’t give a crap anymore. If they don’t like it, they don’t have to look. I go and sign for a delivery of a beautiful bouquet of red roses. The delivery guy is looking at me like I might have contracted Ebola. Dude, thank your lucky stars you don’t have to go through menopause.

I’ll be happy to see this year out. Hubby went back into the hospital for a known issue, a vessel that was partially blocked when he had his first heart attack and the doctor deemed it better to wait to address it because there were other pressing issues he needed to deal with. Hubby heeded the symptoms the doctor said would come, and he called me to pick him up from work and take him to the hospital for an evaluation.

He was starting to experience some mild chest tightness.  His doctor already knew about one artery that was going to need a stent–it was narrowed when he had his heart attack a year and a half ago, but the doctor needed to take care of the major blockage then and didn’t want to add on the risk of addressing the borderline one.  That, and given its location it was something that could wait.  Since he has been exercising daily and slowly adding more strenuous workouts, he was starting to notice chest tightness during those times.  This time when they did the cardiac catheterization the doctor did an adenosine stress test while he was in there, verified there was some flow limitation in that one area and placed a stent.  The original stents looked great, and on comparing the angiographies two other narrowed areas he had noted on the original catheterization had actually regressed and were more open than before.  The whole procedure went well and they had him back in his room shortly.  Since they put a stent in it’s standard to keep the patient overnight instead of discharging, and thank God they did.

I had gone home with the munchkin to do some errands and get a nap before going back to the hospital later that evening.  About an hour into the nap the phone rang.  It was Bill’s nurse who told me he had developed some problems, they were taking him back to the cath lab and for us to get to the hospital right away.  I knew that wasn’t good.  I called his sister and Andrew and told them to head that way, especially since they were about six miles away while I was at around 17 miles.  I prayed the whole time I was driving for him not to be taken from me now, literally addressing the prayer to the Father, Son and Holy Spirit (I’ve never asked the Three at the same time) and that I’d get there in one piece.  Long story short, his doctor was baffled.  He saw Bill 30 minutes before the incident and he was absolutely fine.  Next thing he’s called, comes back down the hall and finds him pouring sweat, chest pain at 9/10, losing consciousness, and his EKG is showing a massive heart attack with 100% blockage.  They rush him back to the cath lab, go in through the other femoral artery, get up to the heart and…nada.  No blockage, no clot, no rupture, nothing.  All his vital signs go back to normal, his EKG returns to normal, and his labs show no bump in cardiac enzymes, no damage to the heart, nothing.  They looked everywhere and could find nothing.  The only thing the doctor said left on the list is a vasospasm, but the worst he’s seen a vasospasm is where it would constrict down to at most 50%, and that’s only in patients who are diabetic or smoke.  They watched Bill in the ICU overnight, but he was completely back to normal.  He was transferred to a regular room the next day, and allowed to go home the following day.  His doctor took all his films, EKGs, echocardiograms, etc, before, during and after the event and conferred with his colleagues, and they’re all stumped.  I don’t know if it was Divine Intervention, or hubby doing something not previously seen in medicine, but all I know is it scared the hell out of me!

Things eventually settled back into a routine, the munchkin started high school, and everything was in a rhythm for a little while. Then the “segment of three” manifested itself. You know, when crap happens in a set sequence of three things? First up, the Emergency Physicians Group that took care of hubby. While in the ER their rep came in and said they needed a credit card on file, “in case you don’t pay, we will bill your credit card” for the balance after insurance has done their deal. Hubby’s having symptons of a heart attack, I’m not gonna question procedure, ya know? Here’s my damned credit card, go do what you have to do in order to get him taken care of. This is in July. August 15th comes, and I get the bill in the mail. I immediately go to their web site, get my credit card and pay our portion in full, like the good consumer I am. I go to pay my credit card bill September 5th, and I see the charge from August 15th (which I have the email receipt from), but the f*ckers go in on September 1st and bill me AGAIN for the same damned charge! To say I was livid was nowhere near what I was experiencing. Of course, it’s a three day weekend, so I have to wait until Tuesday. I call the assholes Tuesday, and the rep is obviously reading from a written card when it comes to the situation. I get to have a refund mailed to me in eight freaking weeks! She says I obviously didn’t read the small print on the paperwork that said they would charge the card for any balance owed. No, you dumb b*tch, the rep told me the credit card would be charged ONLY if I didn’t pay the balance on time! She couldn’t ‘reverse’ the charge on my credit card since she wasn’t the one who had placed the charge in the first place. OMFG!!! I told hubby I don’t care what the situation is the next time we’re in the emergency room—they can go piss up a f*cking rope, they aren’t getting a credit card, a check, a bank account, cash, nada. They can wait until the insurance pays and we will pay the balance afterward. I don’t have an 820+ credit rating for *not* paying bills!

Second on the list of three? I took a header down the stairs. I’ve lost weight…good and bad. Good for my health, bad in that my pajama pants were fitting loose. Hubby had gone to a gun show, munchkin and I are at home. I’m ‘trotting’ down the stairs, cleaning up, doing laundry, getting ready for the rest of the day. I’m holding my pajama pants legs up as I go down the stairs, but the last five stairs I let go. BAD DECISION. My right foot, as I’m stepping down to the next stair, gets caught in the pant leg on the left. I’m “jogging” down, not holding on to the stair rail. Next thing I know, I’m heading down head first. Since I took tae kwon do years ago, I was trained to ‘tuck and roll’ if you’re falling to minimize damage. Yes, I was able to escape damage to my head, neck, etc. Not so much to the rest of my body. Falling head over bottom, my right thigh was the first to impact the edge of the stairs. When all was said and done, I had a bruise on the top of my right foot where it caught in the pants leg, a bruise on my right knee where it hit the floor, a bruise on my right wrist where it hit the floor, a huge bruise on the side and back of my right thigh where it hit the edge of the stairs, as wide as my hand and longer than the width of my hand/fingers that turned completely black. Thankfully it was far enough down on my leg that I didn’t break my hip. Sometimes a little extra ‘padding’ is a plus, preventing the breaking of a bone!

That didn’t stop me from continuing with our plans for an outing over Labor Day weekend. We went to Fredericksburg, Tx, ate at our favorite German restaurant, discovered a new winery, went on a tour of a whiskey distillery, and did a little sightseeing. I knew the ‘third’ thing was coming, but wasn’t sure from where…it didn’t take long.

Tuesday I was cleaning up, getting around a little better since the grapefruit-sized swelling in my thigh was decreasing. I’m in the kitchen, loading the dishwasher. I get all the plates loaded, all the glasses, all the saucers. The only thing left in the sink were five pieces of silverware. I reach down, gathering them up, and all of a sudden I jerk my hand back. It felt like I had hit a sticker burr. Yes, that’s the classic sign of a scorpion sting. Little striped bark scorpion f*cker is in the sink, lined up next to the handle of a spoon, and as I reached for the spoon I hit the damned stinger on its tail. This is the second time I’ve been stung. The first time was on my foot, in between my toes. The pain was indescribable the first time. This time it was bad, the stinger got me on my index finger right above my first knuckle, but it wasn’t as debilitating…at first. The finger swelled up, the pain was intense but I put ice on it, which helped. After thirty minutes, though, I noticed my lips and tongue started tingling and getting numb. Thankfully hubby was off that day and was able to keep an eye on me. I took Benadryl right away, put a poultice of baking soda over the sting, etc. My lips and tongue did not swell, which was a huge blessing. It took six hours before the lips and tongue symptoms went away, and 36 hours before the pain, hot/cold/numb sensations went away in my finger. I’m hoping to avoid any other contact with scorpions in the future!

Last but not least, Kim Davis. Whether you agree with her or not, this is a woman who was willing to go to jail for her beliefs. Period. How many of you would do the same? How many of you rail against companies or corporations, yet still buy their products? How many of you criticize how companies conduct their business, yet sell your wares on their sites? Agree with her or not, at least she’s not a hypocrite. And before you launch into a litany of her sins, check the date when she became a born-again Christian against the dates of the sins.

Are you willing to stand up for what you believe in, including going to jail for your beliefs? Hypocrites kindly step to the side and shut up until you’re willing to put your money where your mouth is.


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