Having written about it, I realized I had to actually DO something about getting all these medical things set up. I am convinced if I breathe “regular out-of-house air” I’m going to die. That’s not necessarily true, but that’s how I feel.

I still haven’t heard from the ear department for Garry, but this morning I got a call from the Heart Interrogation Unit. Heart interrogation you ask? They talk to my heart and it answers them?

Well, yes, basically that IS what they do. Pacemakers are not just there to remind your heart to beat. They also track everything going on in your heart and to date, nothing has happened except the battery is aging. I hope it’s still true.

Unless you have a Pacemaker, you’ve probably never heard of a Heart Interrogation. It sounds rather James Bond, but it’s more like repairing a computer than torture by Spectre. This is when they meter your heart to check it’s memory. It somehow — in a very tiny package — remembers everything that happened to your heart since the previous reading. Were there any mini attacks? Anything abnormal. After you’ve had this surgery, everything is abnormal, so we are looking at the best results of an abnormal heart.

Any periods of rapid heart beating? And how is the battery doing?


When she asked me when was the last time I had the Pacemaker checked, I realized it was probably more than two years because while I had other important checkups last year, this hospital has a separate department for Pacemakers. They set you up with “a box” that hooks to your telephone so you don’t have to come into the hospital to get a reading on your Pacemaker. This will be a significant convenience in the winter when you don’t want to drive through snow. pounding rain, or howling winds. Now, if only I can get the dogs to stop barking!

There are a lot of good reasons to die these days, but letting your Pacemaker battery run out \seems a particularly stupid reason.

I’m getting close to needing a new battery in the Pacemaker. Last time it was checked — maybe 2017? 2018? Earlier? there were about 4 years left. Time has skedaddled, so now I’m close to the battery’s end-date. My heart will not beat without a Pacemaker and these last few months have been rather over the line.

Not only did she tell me to come I needed to come  ASAP, but she also moved the date forward to next Wednesday. I need to remember that if the battery dies, I die too. That would be a really stupid reason to die. Even I am embarrassed at how long I’ve let this go. I really didn’t remember how long it had been since the battery check was made and there has been a lot of stuff going on.


I can barely remember when my body functioned without a slew of testing.  There were surgeries for tumors (benign) in my right leg (15), the loss of an ovary (19), a spinal fusion (18) plus so much other stuff I can’t remember it. It’s a miracle I made it this far and it’s good someone reminds me that I’ ve got a lot of implants and replacements top to bottom. I don’t remember all of them when, for some reason, I’m trying to figure out which scars are from which events. Doctors should sign the incision with a date and the name of the hospital. Since age has made my short term memory about 15 seconds long, it gets increasingly difficult to remember.

She did assure me that there were VERY few people in the hospital and I would be unlikely to bump into anyone. Garry can’t come in with me which will make maneuvering difficult. There a lot of walking in a big hospital and I don’t move well.

On a more positive note, I will physically leave this house! Imagine that!


So Garry and I are listening (Audiobooks) to the biography of John Wayne written by Scott Eyman. We can’t turn on a baseball game, which we would normally be doing. There’s nowhere to go because it’s cold and rainy outside. We could go to the parks. They aren’t crowded and I could take pictures.

But the book is interesting. It’s mostly old news for Garry, but mostly new to me. While we listen, I’m also checking email and pondering what to do about supper. We are not out of food, but we don’t have much variety. We have boneless pork loin X 2. Boneless chicken thighs X 2. Leftovers from dinner the other night. A couple of packages of chopped meat.

Uxbridge still has no toilet paper, so Owen bought all the rolls in the shop he runs — 12 small rolls for $9.00. But we can’t run out of toilet paper. That would be really bad.

I keep reading a lot of rants by people who think the whole Coronavirus thing is just to scare people. The problem is that because we have no tests available, we have NO idea how many infections there are … or where they are. Even people who need to be hospitalized can’t get a test. Why do I have a sneaking suspicion that Trump and his nasty band of sycophants are intentionally slowing down the testing so we don’t have to admit publicly how bad things are in the U.S.? Am I being cynical?


For all of you who think you are living someplace where there is no virus, think again about that. With no testing going on, you have no idea if there is or isn’t some or many infections in your area. No tests? No information.

Meanwhile, even if you are sure this isn’t going to be a big deal for you, if you have any passing relationship with other human beings who might be over 60 or have medical issues, like asthma, Lupus, MS, diabetes, heart disease, or be under treatment for cancer, AIDs, and other chronic medical problems … your staying healthy might save their lives.

This is inconvenient. More than merely inconvenient. But this siege won’t last forever. In a couple of months, assuming we start acting responsibly, it should peak and then recede.

Assuming we do what we should be doing, that is. If we keep doing nothing, it’s possible in the end this will be the country to be the hardest hit by the virus.

Think about that.


I’ve got a “sleepless” EEG (electroencephalogram) tomorrow morning. It means I can’t go to sleep until midnight and I have to be up by four in the morning and be at the hospital by eight in the morning. No caffeine, but I can have breakfast.

I don’t know how to have breakfast without coffee. What am I supposed to eat? Without coffee, am I supposed to cook? Like … food?

I suppose it will be something to do while I have to wait to leave for the hospital. Do I need to tell you how much I’m not looking forward to this?

So please do not be surprised if I don’t make comments in the morning or write much. I am likely to go back to bed. Quite probably Garry and I will both go back to bed. Except I will have to take a shower and wash my hair first because they use a kind of glop to attach the electrodes to my head and I have to wash it out or it will turn to cement and I might never get it out of my hair.

Meanwhile, no one has called to give me information about last week’s echocardiogram. I called the office and she pointed out if there was anything wrong, they would have called me. So I can assume if there is anything amiss, I’d already know it.

I guess I’ll stop worrying.

Now all I have to do is worry about surviving without coffee and getting the goop out of my hair.

It’s going to be a really terrific day. And a great night, too. I can hardly wait. The high point of this day was that the hospital called me — a human BEING called me — to remind me about the test. A real live person called and asked me if I was going to be there. I said yes and she said “Great!” We both hung up.

Wow. A living person called me. How often does THAT happen?


Nothing makes me take odder ball pictures than a new camera. As I’ve been trying to figure out what this camera cum computer can do, I’ve taken some interesting pictures. No question, they are odd. But very interesting and rather unique.

Cee’s Odd Ball Photo Challenge: July 8, 2018


Say hi to the Duke

More Gibbs

Where are the eyes?