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4. A Desperate Search

With the return of Marbles the cat I hope peace is restored to Casa Mtpspur (little knowing the end of the day and its tragic loss to come though I had some foreknowledge of it and should have seen the very clear warning given this morning) as I have two projects to accomplish today.

The first involves showing up for a doctor's appointment I had to reschedule from last month when the IRS liened my wages to where I didn't have $50 for a blood test AND the appointment that month. My new appointment is for 9:45 am. The credit union opens at 9 am and there should be plenty of time to get there.
I go back to bed still seeking that perfect beauty sleep much as Ponce de Leon searched for the Fountain of Youth--unsuccessfully. I give up finally, take my pills a little early (the doctor wanted to see my stash and for some reason I thought he was going to take them from me) and place them in a comic bag for easy carrying and start to see if Ruth is ready to get over to collect her pay and give me the $25 co-pay and gas money to use as I'm riding about a quarter tank now.

I had hopes Ruth would accompany me to the doctor's for moral support and to keep me behaved. I am far from being a morning person and have been milking my old age and general demeanor of appearing grouchy to my advantage for years. No one at AAA dares call before 12:30 pm anymore. There are reasons grizzley bears are touchy sleepers. Having to pry money form the Mrs. has gotten a little easier lately but surrendering it while half asleep and trying to be interested in my health is a bit challenging this early in the morning and this morning's fun and games aren't helping.

Turns out Ruth has other plans. She is going to give me enough to get me going (and lunch money as it turns out) because she is off to Wilmington Ohio (a 40 mile trip I rarely make with my gas guzzler) to have our daughter Sandy give her a haircut in preparation for the other project I'm tasked with today.

Today is Ruth's college graduation CEREMONY (several classes combined) to be held at the Victoria Theater, Dayton Oho at 7 pm. (Now Virgil do you see why PART of today is very memorable??--but wait there will be more.) Mind you the New Jobseeker actually graduated March 27th but the donning of the cap and gowns occurs twice a year. My presence is of course expected. AAA very very much wanted me to work but it was a regular scheduled day off so too bad so sad though I ended up going back in Friday.

I decide to get my grouchiness out of my system at the doctor's expense and be somewhat behaved for tonight as marriage benefits opportunities are started to be planned in earnest now. Man plans, wives laugh to adapt a popular phrase if I may.

I arrive at the credit union at about 8:45, showered, unshaven and am first at the door. Humid out and the day should be and was nicer later. At 9:03 am I have the money in hand but no sign of the Long Suffering One in her wheels. She should have been about five minutes behind me. I take a chance and dash back to the house as we are ony a mile away.

She is at the door coming out as I pull up and money exchanges hands. My power steering fluid is low again so I zip over next door to the Dairy Mart for a bottle and at 9:15 I am on my way to hear the news about my health.

Now it must be confessed that when I am sleep deprived and grouchy the Drama Queen has the added ability to induce panic over the smallest manners (unlike SERIOUS stuff that will be apparent later this afternoon when the real first bad news of the day comes). Even though I had been to the doctor's office twice my brain went dead and I simply could NOT remember how far past Fairfield Commons Mall the turn-off was to the Health complex. I check my head to make sure it is still attached. Yep--that part is okay but where oh where did the medical building go? For some reason I was convinced it was BEFORE Kemp Rd--not after it as it turned out. Their address is N. Fairfield Road which is a bit of a lie as the building and parking lot entrances are actually off Home Acres Rd.

5. A Frantic Phone Call

I turn down two streets looking and stopping off at other medical places--I at least remembered what the building sort of kind of looked like. I stop the car, annoy God with some whining and discover I DON'T have their number in my cell phone. Directory assistance to the rescue.

A receptionist is sympatehtic and we bat landmarks back and forth. She and I were both fixated on a Speedway Gas station as a major marker and I have finally learned north/south and left and right which side of Kemp Rd they are on. Past a florist shop that I finally recognize only when I see it and I arrive with about 10 minutes to spare.

6. A Cold Reception

Normally if I may boast I am a delight to receptionists. I treat them as if they were what they truly are. The ones that keep the system moving along. For that they are to be worshipped and bowed down unto. They only have one real flaw. They always remember to collect the co-pay.

But today I am frustrated by my attack of amnesia and wondering if this is advanced memory losss and a portent of things to come. I would much rather be back in bed and plan on just that as soon as I have gotten through this latest exam.

I find I start whining about life in general and why did I have to lug my pills in, why do you need to see my medical card--why why why. I would have slapped me silly by this time but they are a sweet patient crowd there. I warn them to tell the doctor I'm being a grump and please forgive my attitude and finally sit down and allow myslef to drift off under the spell of that music they play to enhance the delights of lobotomies. I decide time to grow up and just deal--this won't last much longer.

7. Unexpected Health News

The computers shut down on the receptionists which reawakens the glass is almost empty side of my personality and I am readjusting my get of here time estimate vowing to be very firm about my state of condition Lord help him if he asks about the walks I'm supposed to be taking. So there.

Computers go back up in less then five minutes and my name is called. Everything from this point on gets better. A medical assistant weighs me (a surprising 185--cool) and lets me into a room where she takes my blood pressure. I whine by conditioning and even more when she does BOTH arms. Sigh. 122 over 68--I'm told that is pretty good compared to where it used to be. She asks how I'm doing. I confess shortnessof breath lately when I do anything physical. Then I start to build my case for ignoring the instructions to take energetic walks. This is where I use truth to make my case. When I walk very fast and feel my heart work harder I frankly get scared I'll overdo it and quit. The lady nods understandably and I am aware she has probably heard this before and I'm one of hundreds. Safety in generalities. She leaves and I start to read the current Entertainment magazine.

Doctor Goyer arirves sporting a brand new mustache that I delberately do not comment on. I suspect it was his attempt to appear older looking as during my hospital stay I did tend to think of Doogie Howser when I first met him. I replay the tape about the walking fears and I am not condemmed as being a pathetic coward and get your butt out there and shape up. I'm actually glad to escape a lecture. This is going well. He states my heart is doing quite well under the circumstances and the kidney is behaving also. This is unexpected news as my current budget is not allowing for anything to do with that aspect of my health.

8. A Strange Proposal

The appointment is just about over and I am already remaking the bed in my mind and getting that coveted beauty sleep when Dr. Goyer does a Columbo on me with just one more thing. He wants me to have a stress test.

Immediate whine.

Quick reassurances. I'm sitting there thinking of Steve Austin the Six Million Dollar Man on his treadmill tearing it up when the doctor tells me he wants to do a chemical test rather then the treadmill-safer for me he believes.

Even worst news--will take place in the Dayton office.

Early. Nothing I love more then driving in downtown Dayton traffic at 7 am in the morning. Only light in the tunnel is making AAA give me the day off as a sick day. I schedule it for a Monday to make it easier for AAA and finally head home somewhat feeling better about my health.

Within five hours Ruth will throw a huge monkey wrench into that frame of mind.

To be continued----