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SPOILER WARNING: Ruth is fine. Victim of overkill at the Base Hospital. Thank you all for the notes and concerns. This blog is the voyage thereof. She'll be out Monday--just waiting for a stress test and being monitored as precautionary measures.

Let's see where did we leave off now:

The deal with helping out Brandy carry on the traditional blood feud with Michigan by way of pizza and screaming at flat TV screens had a couple of snags to it. Her original plan was to trade days and I would be off Sunday. Management wasn't too thrilled with that concept for one silly reason. I would be shorted two hours--would not be a clean trade. My contention was it was going to be overtime anyway --thanks to an unsuspected betrayal by Tami I would be discovering early Saturday. The real problem was at 2 pm Sam would be leaving and I would the entire six counties we monitor in my power for two hours until Tonya arrived. Brandy recognizes my superior wisdom for findings flies in ointments and recruits Sam for an extra two hours. Poor Sam her generousity will be be sorely tested Saturday. On Friday Brandy calls me early enough to confirm all is set up and I go about finishing up my vacation.

I had been home since Monday using up the rest of my vacation days for the year since they are use or lose and AAA tries very hard to insure you get the days off. When the time comes that I finally heave a telephone through a window and a computer monitor to keep it company they don't want lack of time off to be a factor at the mental hospital progress evaluations.

Now Thursday I had not told Ruth anything about this as frankly it wasn't confirmed and she was merrily killing keystrokes on the box all evening. I had spent the week finishing Bolo Rising by William Keith and starting Bolos: Book 5-Old Guard (stories based on Keith Laumer's Bolo/Rogue Bolo books). Friday's confirmation of the change to Saturday is shared and life goes on.

Things begin to change a bit in the afternoon. Ruth enters my library. Voluntarily. My antenna goes up simply because the mail had arrived awhile back and all bills go to a plastic comic bag I keep in them in my temple to my childhood. What reason would she want to be in there? Reading my Shadow reprints highly out of the question and beyond knowing the five original members of the Avengers she'll never read an issue in her life--her loss. I keep telling she'ld understand me better if she was more aware of my influences beyond Thomas Watson, Arthur W. Pink, and Charles Haddon Spurgeon.

But there is one thing out of the ordinary I keep there that was her goal. My medicines. Seven pills a day for the rest of my life. Sigh. I get snoopy and want to know what's up and she tells me she needed to know a certain title of one of the prescriptions. The fact a pill has a generic title and a real title makes me think of dog show names and I figure she's doing some study in her chosen field to brush up on some stuff. Of course Ruth never is fountain of information.

Ruth is scheduled for work 6 pm to 11 pm Friday and I'm already around 3 pm thinking about MY time on the box with anticipation. When she is home the box is hers but when she is gone--look out Litnet and Solitaire mahjong. However she mentions her blood pressure is up and the course of my life change is officialy started. She elaborates on her heart racing.

Hmmmm. I grunt. Hem and haw.

She rarely (oh so tragically--the Drama Queen insists on using that word) mentions her health issues and I have finally learned any verbal expression on her part means she's been thinking about something for at least a week.

Ruth decides maybe she should go see a doctor. She says her heart has been racing. I start to flashback to February 26th this year when my arrogance caught up to me but say nothing. Deciding to see and actually go to a doctor is thin ice territory and a hasty word from me might tip things the wrong way.

As it is I fumble it badly. Mostly by not seeing the urgency of geting her to treatment. I have been fooled by her graduation as a Medical Assistant and more importantly my brush with mortaility into thinking my wife is a mature guardian of the Mtpspur health plan for continued survival to keep insipid blogs in full production. There was one other clue in the house that had been under my nose for quite some time now that I misinterpreted in the best tradition of readers of the Book of Daniel and the 70 weeks (and no I have no INTELLIGENT opinion there). Ruth had cleaned off the kitchen table of her pill bottles awhile back presumed by me based on a remark that future guttersnipe in the making grand-son Ron might think they were candy. (Yes when I was very young I used to steal orange colored Bayer aspirin for the flavor-true story.) The sad truth of the missing bottles would be revealed one minute before an explosion of low level hissing and snorting at 11:45 pm Friday night at the Base Hospital.

In the back of the brain cells I figure one problem is the $25 co-pay holding things up and try not to start in that old whine about money and tax collectors on a quota enhancement program. While I am off in Never Never land Ruth says she will go to the doctor tomorrow since it's too late now and she has to work and November bills have not gone quite as well as September and October did. She goes back to her computer worship, I return to Bolo land and all is well until the next event at about 4:30 pm.

I check my cell phone for messages and discover Fearless Leader Josh has called. This is rarely good. Probably checking to see if I was exhorting from Brandy for the big favor. He starts off as if he needs me to come in and I start to kiss Friday goodby when he gets to the point faster then I ever do in a blog entry. Miracle of miracles AAA finally gave a Christmas bonus this year. It has been years. Even better the company made the check out to me and in essence didn't give ANY of it to IRS. I zip down to the office, grab it, chat just a bit and hotfoot it to the credit union to cash and make it back to the house by 5:30 in time to catch Ruth putting on her name tag. Darn traffic light--a minute sooner and it could have been her shirt. Sigh--this is a 'G' rated blog after all.

I give her some of it for an anniversary present--this Sunday--as in today--guess what I spent MY 29th doing --as we speak. She declares it will help with the doctor appointment and off she goes.

I do a Bookery run with satisfying results. This will help trim my file down a bit. Along with the latest Shadow reprint (The Book of Death/The Silver Scourge) I buy reprints of Classics Illustrated adaptations of and I kid you not: Wuthering Heights, Hamlet (Litnetters know how I feel about that turgid story) and Macbeth (my favorite Shakespeare) along with five others). Thinking it over Wuthering Heights the comic---who did they think was going to buy it--Superman fans???

All is relatively normal until Ruth gets home around 11:20 pm. Two things start to happen. She sits at the computer and starts to check her mail and assure me at the same time I'll be fed soon. Then she expounds her symptoms again. My flashbacks return and husbandly duties finally kick in. But diplomacy is ever the rule here. She wants to go Saturday to the doctor. I point out will be better to go to the base ER tonight--less people, quicker service and the holiday season upon us should go smoothly. Plus no-copay need be rendered.

The straw that breaks the camel back is almost put on the pachyderm's spinal column --remember 12:45 am hasn't hit yet. Out of the blue Ruth says she hasn't taken her medications for two WEEKS--remember that word and later cry for breakdown in communications and sharing all your burdens with your loved one. Lord knows she knows all my burdens very very well. In the back of my mind the missing bottlles are explained and my ego takes a hit but I'm used to that. She goes on a bit more about the racing heartbeat and I take the approach your health, your body but look what happended to me in February and start to push a little more firmly and being smart about all this. She agrees--let's go to the hospital and get it over with. I am aware that this will hit my sleep cycle a mortal blow but I have been awake 36 hours before and pretty sure I can do it again. Not 59 years old YET!!! I get my shoes on, check for my ID to get past the gate guards and my little light-o-lights is STILL checking her mail. Plus she wants me to EAT first. I remind her I have money now and Macdonalds is easy--let's GO!!!

The base is blessed with my presence at about 12:10 and my long day begins in earnest. NO I didnt stop for eating--quit judging me!!!!

NEXT: The hospital stay, the work day, Sam, Brandy, Tonya, and a bit of Tami and yes the McDonalds clerk--but she's not THAT important to the adventure. I think this will be a 4 PARTER.