A Change Of Seasons

So much for daily posting whilst on vacation. We've had a bit of a shift in the plans.

See, since last Thursday we have been staying in the company-owned beach house on northern Padre Island in Corpus Christi, TX. We usually come down here twice a year: Memorial Day and Labor Day, which you'll notice pretty much runs right before and right after Hurricane Season...

This year, due to current or potential workloads, we had to delay our trip until the end of June/beginning of July, which you'll notice pretty much runs right into the beginning of Hurricane Season. And, by pretty much, I mean dead-on-balls at it.

Alex has forced us to do two things: leave two full days earlier (since landfall is expected early Thursday which will put the outer bands in our laps sometime Wednesday) and try to cram said two days into the last two days.

That leaves us, today, cleaning up the house, packing, and getting ready to leave late this afternoon as opposed to late Thursday or even Friday morning.

FFFFFfffffffffffuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu.....



tweaker

My Creation

*Note - If y'all haven't figured it out yet, I'm gonna let the secret out. I've decided to title all my blog posts with song titles. They might be from any artist, any genre. It's how I've finally figured out how to dedicate my little corner of the internets to one of my chief loves: music. It works for me!

*************************

So, I'm writing this post on the evening of Vacation Day III (Saturday). I'm sipping on a glass of Trio Cabernet Sauvignon 2007 Reserva. I was right: it was the perfect pairing for tonight's meal.

Tonight's meal consisted of grilling happiness. The red mead was gently sprinkled with sea salt and green herbs. The womenfolk both had prime cuts of Beef Tenderloin, while I had a bison Ribeye. I also had a marinated - lime, wine, lemon pepper, and Emeril's Essence - grilled shrimp I invented on the fly (womens don't like shrimp. Something's not quite right with them...). We also had prosciutto-wrapped grilled asparagus that was Momma-slap-good. The Wifey picked up a little roll of Buffala Mozzarella with prosciutto and basil that she sliced and put on Jewish Rye before toasting it.

Your mouth watering yet? If not, LEAVE MY BLOG RIGHT NOW INFIDEL!!!

Y'all, we ate like royalty tonight. I could eat like this every night, provided I actually win the lottery sometime.

Sorry if I'm all over the map tonight. That was just a damn good meal. Srsly. IMHO, that is hands-down the best tasting meal I have ever cooked. Hooray me!



tweaker

Where It's At

Status Report: Vacation Day III

At long last, all is well. Vacation Day I was spent in final preparation for departure. Forward preparation had been completed the day before. The last of the clothing needed to be washed and packed. Breakfast was cooked. Television was watched. Then the whirlwind began. Final items were assembled, checklist got checked off, and The Wifey's conveyance was loaded to capacity. Since she had been dropped off at Checkpoint Alpha (read: carpool meeting place) at 0530 - meaning we'd been up since 0445 - we proceeded to Checkpoint Bravo (read: where her and her office girls were having lunch) to acquire Wifey for departure. Several checkpoints later and the final destination was reached. De-board conveyance, unload cargo, begin Operation Romeo-Alpha-Romeo (that's Rest And Relaxation for the layman among you). Supplies were attained, and pizza was acquired for that evening's meal.

Status report could not be completed at day's end (Thursday's post was written pre-departure).

Proofreading will be tough (I use parentheses too much).

Vacation Day II was more recreational in nature. The morning was greeted by a semi-successful brewing of coffee - strange coffee pots are rarely operated correctly on the first attempt - and a bowl of cereal roughly 2.36 steps in quality above an MRE. Aren't the always. The time of the meeting at Recreation Point Delta Charlie was 1000, and, due in no small part to the supreme piloting and navigational abilities of the author, we made it with time to spare. A small aquatic craft arrived to take the three of us, plus another family comprised of a young boy, his father, and his mother. No doubt she was along for safety reasons: she needed no life preserver, having had them pre-installed. What luck. Several images were captured (of the wildlife, not the flotation assistant). Will upload at later time.

The proverbial Brick Wall was reached far too early in the day. Time for rest.

Vacation Day III is roughly 50% complete. Hot tub was thoroughly relaxing. A shower to refresh. Note that The Hunt for Red October must be acquired in HD format. It is superior. This evening's sustenance shall include 1.0lbs of shrimp, Prime Tenderloin Steak, and, for Your's Truly, a nearly-cooked Bison Ribeye.

Expect Day III's complete report on Day IV.

That is all.



tweaker

Counterfeit

-adjective
1. made in imitation so as to be passed off fraudulently or deceptively as genuine; not genuine; forged

2. pretended; unreal

The preceding was intended to define the following:



(h/t to The World's Most Dangerous Librarian)

Apparently, there is some better alternative out there - as a preventive measure, mind you - than a gun for a mother to protect her children from abduction. Search their website (if you can stomach it), and let me know if you can find what said alternative is. I could not.

What I did find is an biased organization preying on what is arguably every mother's greatest fear to further an anti-gun message. I found an organization masquerading as part of something entirely different that has the ability to reach people instantly with an unbiased message. I found a fucking mouthpiece for the antis doing what only mouthpieces and Montezuma's Revenge can do: spew shit.

If I'm wrong, please point out how.

*********************************

I wrote a rather inquisitive letter to that organization via their website in an effort to discover what these "preventive measures" they speak of actually are. I also copied it to post here, but instead of dropping into a Word document I started blogging first. A couple of copy/pastes later I realized I no longer have the letter. *facepalm*

Oh well. If I ever get a response I'll let you know.



tweaker



*edit - I don't know why, but the embedded YouTube player is cutting off part of the right side of the video. Click through to see the whole (HA!) thing.

Welcome to the Jungle

I didn't follow hardly any of the NBA Finals this year. As far as I'm concerned, basketball's pretty much over when the Spurs are done.

However, word hath reached mine ear that the timeless match-up betwixt Boston and Los Angeles resulted in a victory for the latter, though you wouldn't be able to tell from the Rodney King-esque scene in L.A. that followed.

Just as I was into thinking mode (i.e., how can I blog about this and look original? said to self), Miss Phlegmmy steps it up a notch:

If your society is so pathetic and wrong-headed that you break into violence when something good happens, I sure as hell plan to be a long way from you just in case something you don't like happens.

Well, that pretty much sums it up, doesn't it?

It's been said before, but I reiterate: I've a suggestion to keep you all occupied - Learn To Swim.



tweaker

Mmmm... murder.

I love steak.

That is all.



tweaker

Stuff For Me

Father's Day. The day that everyone's supposed to remember how TEH AWESOME their father is, and get him stuff to prove they love him.

Okay, so I embellished a bit. OKAY FINE, I'm way off. But still, getting stuff for being a cool Dad is cool.

Remember my berfday when I got this? Well, little did I know that The Wifey had already acquired my Father's Day gift at that point. Little, that is, until she said, "I already have your Father's Day gift." Then she tried to give it to me. Several times. I had to tell her repeatedly that the gift she got was for Father's Day and that if she gave it to me early then what would I have on Father's Day?

Well, that lasted a couple weeks. One day - not Father's Day - I came home from work and was presented with this:


That, ladies and gentlemen, is a Char-Broil Quantum Infrared Urban Gas Grill. That's 21,000 BTUs of steak-searing heat, built into a compact, 2-burner unit perfect for a family of three. All stainless, all the time. Yep. I has one.

Well, not content to leave my Father's Day present-less, The Wifey and The Little Girl conspired to sweeten the deal, both literally and figuratively. Literally, by getting me some Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough ice cream (which I never get because The Wifey doesn't like cookie dough - blasphemous, I know - so I'm nice and get something she likes) and some oversized cookies with which to combine into ice cream sandwiches. *squee!!!* Figuratively, by getting me the first two seasons of my favorite currently-running TV show, House, MD. I am loved, and I have proof;)



tweaker

Whoosh

Wow, that week got by me before I knew it.

I was working on a performing arts theater audio system proposal all week long, and it didn't leave me a helluva lot of time for, well, anything else. I haven't posted since Tuesday, I've barely hit Facebook at all, I haven't read so much as a page of LOTR, and I haven't touched DragonAge since last weekend.

It's not you. It's me;)

Anyway, for the three of you that still read this thing, don't think I'm on hiatus again. Just swamped. We found out about a project literally a week before the proposal deadline. Everyone else that was on the bid list knew about it three weeks before we did. Everyone else had time. We did not. I spent from 6-10 to 6-17 with my head buried so deeply in this project it must certainly have felt violated. I know I did.

But, alas, there was light at the end of the tunnel - reached by my CEO and programmer leaving with the being-assembled proposal at the absolute last possible minute to drive at sub-warp speeds into Downtown SA to barely make the 1:59 p.m. deadline - and we got our bids in on time. Fingers crossed: it's worth around $300K to the winner.

Friday was mostly catching my breath and looking at a stadium/arena grade lighting control system and deciding whether or not I want to tackle it. I'll probably have a go at it. The manufacturer has already designed and proposed it, but the client wouldn't agree to the terms of dealing direct, so the manufacturer's making them go through a local dealer. The manufacturer has several in the area, but they called us. That's saying something.

So if you'll excuse me, I must change into my cape and tights* again to become Super Audio/Video/Control System Guy! and save the world from inferior electronic systems.



tweaker

*My most sincere apologies to those who know me personally for giving you the visual of me wearing tights.

Anger Rising

I have seen this video in just about every corner of the Blogosphere that I visit - mostly gunnies and libertarian-types - and every time I see it I get angry. Twitching, vein throbbing in the forehead, grab-your-torches-and-pitchforks kind of angry.

Taken at the face value of the video, there is nothing that can be said to excuse the behavior and reaction of Congressman Bob Etheridge. If you haven't seen it, take a look for yourself:



Let me tell you what I see. I see a man, so hopelessly lost in the Us and Them mentality enjoyed by so many in government, acting without concern for the law. I see a man who sees himself as above the law. A man who has no regard for public service, or the public he claims to serve. I see a man who acts as though he has somehow transcended consequence, and will do as he damn-well pleases.

Looking into the future, I see a man whose empty apology - carrying only the weight of a half-assed admission of inconveniencing his lesser - will satisfy his colleagues and ward off any further action against him.

I see all that, and I see red. Via Tam:

Can somebody explain to me why this jumped-up zoning board clerk is not up on assault charges?

Well, sadly, I can explain it, though I know a rhetorical question when I see one. The sad reality is that it is very unlikely - at least at this point - that Rep. Elderidge will see any reprimand from this incident at all.

I gotta wonder, though. I can't help but think of how this could have gone down differently. I'd be lying if I said I didn't have super-double-secret thoughts in the back of my head of an armed, or otherwise defense-minded individual being in the camera(phone)man's shoes in that video. I'd also be lying if I said I didn't enjoy those thoughts. A part of me really would have liked to have seen that asshole end up with a mouth full of ground after being told to let go.

I hate to broadcast a case of The I'das, but I'da played that one just a bit different. First, I'da likely backed waaaay off after he swatted at me the first time. When he grabbed me, the whole world would have stopped spinning for me and the Congresscritter. First words would have been more like "Let go of me right now!!!" Somewhere around "I have a right to know who you are" he would have found himself face down with 240 pounds of pissed off on his back, and his only words of comfort would have been "No you don't, and you definitely don't have a right to lay a hand on me" while the police were being summoned.

And yes, that video would have been distributed long before said police arrived.

I don't give a rotting rat's ass who you are or what you think. I know, beyond the shadow of a doubt, two things: one, you have no reasonable expectation of privacy In Public; and two, you have absolutely no right to touch me whatsoever without provocation (and asking a politician what his politics are doesn't fucking cut it!!!).

More Tam-eran (Tam-eranian?) wisdom:

For that matter, is there not a bucket of tar nor a single feather pillow or fence rail to be found in all of the District of Columbia?

To any and all people who have any authority in this matter, to include Congress, Washington Metro Police Department, and the People of the State of North Carolina: do NOT let this waste of flesh and oxygen off without as severe a punishment as the cameraman would have received had he done the same thing to the Congressman.

And to Congressman Etheridge? I hope you are brought up on felony charges. I hope they stick. I hope you are branded by the Democrat Party who - God willing - turns on you and makes an example out of you. I hope you are forcibly removed from office and lose all hope of ever serving a public role ever again.

And, to quote Tam one last time, I hope you freeze in the dark.



tweaker

(h/t to Breda for being the first to bring it to my attention, Unc and pdb for the follow-ups, and Tam for callin 'em like she sees 'em.)

*JOY!!!*

I am happy.

Whilst searching about Netflix for new and exiting ways to rot my brain, I came upon a beacon of true bliss: Ren and Stimpy. Now available for your streaming pleasure.

Thusly inspired, I give you the happiest of all happy on Earth, in song form:



Just try and not be happy now, internets!



tweaker

I Don't Mean to Brag...

...and if you believe that, I have a nice bridge in NYC to sell you: cheap.

I would just like to take a minute to pat myself for the back on being among the coolest Dads on Earth. No, really, I'm actually quite amazing in the fatherhood department.

Just ask my kid!

Seriously, though, I'm pretty stoked. The Little Girl has been in horseback riding lessons now for a couple of months. The ranch where she takes her lessons is fantastic. Some ranches offer 30-minute lessons, and the horse is ready to go when you get there. You ride for a half hour, then get off the horse and leave.

Fail.

The ranch we go to makes you earn it. When you show up, your horse is either outside in a turn-out or, if it's been on a recent lesson, in a stall in the barn. Either way, the horse isn't wearing a thing. The young rider must - under supervision, of course - get her horse, halter it, bring it to the prep area, and tie it off. She's gotta brush it down, blanket it, and saddle it up. All said, the rider's working on the horse for a good 10 or 15 minutes before they ever leave the barn. Then they go out to learn to ride. And y'all, this learning thing happens at an approximate rate of Damned Fast. Get a kid that's passionate about something and you will truly know their capacity and rate for learning.

I've got to admit: I really look forward to Saturday mornings at the ranch as much as The Little Girl does. I adore being around the horses, the people are the poster children of Texas-friendly, and watching that kid work an animal that outweighs her by a factor of around 12-15 is a sight to behold. She does not fear the horses. She respects them, and above all else she truly, truly loves them. It really makes me proud to see her so effortlessly dedicated to this.

And did I mention the horses? Holy crap! You'd be hard-pressed to find a better looking, better maintained, working group of horses on earth. Very few show horses out there; these are riders to the core. Personality runs aplenty. And there's one of my personal favorites: Hercules. Hercules is a massive, bearded black Clydesdale. This horse is seriously friggin big. And every morning when I come in, he's always there to greet me. He's a touch under 6 feet at the shoulder, but when he puts his head up I can walk under his chin without ducking (and I'm 6' 3"). He's my buddy;)

See how exited I get? I wasn't kidding when I said I look forward to going out there. It's just a helluva place to be. Been there for years, too, so they're really well established and run a great business.

Well, don't tell her, but I've already told The Wifey and the staff at the ranch that, if The Little Girl sticks with riding, after a couple years we're gonna buy a horse and keep it there at the ranch.

See? I am the coolest Dad EVAR. Now I need a Harley...



tweaker

*Yawn*

It was a long few days. Around 1500 every day I just hit a brick wall, and spent the next two hours trying to stay awake until quitting time.

I'm gonna go get some Messkin food, bring it home to mate up with some Messkin cerveza, and relax.

Y'all take it easy. I'll put up some content tomorrow.



tweaker

Day Off

So I didn't write a post yesterday.

I was going to (honest!), but I made the mistake of hitting up Facebook first. I then found myself in an epic battle to prove how wrong someone was on the internets. It was bad. Real bad. Sumdood decided that, while ZOMFG TEH HITLERZ!!!1!! was just "mental and wanted to kill people," Roosevelt was actively engaged in genocide. He went on to deny the Holocaust.

I went on to blow a fuse. I know I shouldn't have; there are morons out there who feel it is their duty to bring out The Truth. I'm supposed to be old enough and wise enough not to engage these idiots. But then I think of both of my Grandfathers. I think of who and what they were fighting, and I think of why. To say that they were actively partaking in a ruthless genocide sparks feelings in me that make me have to constantly delete sentences from a post because they could be viewed in a court of law as a threat. I'd be sunk, too, because frankly, if dickhead had said any of that shit to my face, I would have removed his.

I was polite and educated in my responses, save for telling him that I sincerely hope he freezes in the dark (h/t Tam). I wish I had read this first. (also h/t Tam.)May have kept my blood pressure down.

Anyway, I walked away from my computer after a couple rounds and started a Mage for a new DragonAge: Origins campaign. The Darkspawn Horde isn't gonna annihilate itself, you know...



tweaker

Anxiety

I've had a bit of discomfort ever since the naval incident involving Israel. The last thing I want to see is Israel going to war.

So it is further troubling to me to read this:

Asked whether the raid on the flotilla last week will change the way countries vote in the Security Council, Ahmadinejad said the raid will actually change many things.

For Israel, he said, "it has actually rung the final countdown for its existence. It shows that it has no room in the region and no one is ready to live alongside it. Actually, no country in the world recognizes it, and you know that the Zionist regime is the backbone of the dictatorial world order."

He added, "Maybe at the Security Council, it will impact temporarily. The Zionist regime, with what it has done, it actually stopped its possibility to exist in the region anymore."

I mean, I'm not looking forward to the shit hitting the fan, but if AhmedunnadunnadunnaBATMAN wants to throw down, I think he may be a bit surprised by how many countries in the world actually do recognize the existence of Israel.

I wonder: if Iran had a well-known blockade of an area, and someone tried to float through said blockade...

tweaker

I Was Gonna Say Something...

...but it's already been said, by folks better at sayin' stuff than me.

To those who stormed the beaches of Normandy, thank you all.



tweaker

*@#$!

If you were to see me now, my face would be red.

I reloaded the OS (WinXP) on my home machine today. I spent the last couple of days backing up, archiving, and generally making sure that I wasn't going to lose anything I wanted to keep. At the top of this list was my iTunes library.

I went through a great deal of trouble to make sure that got done right. Except for one detail. I did not do a simple backup of the library, so that when I reloaded iTunes, I could point it toward my existing library that's on my external drive. I was under the impression (given the instructions from Apple support) that what I did back up would take care of that.

Apparently, I was wrong.

Now I get to import my library as if it was entirely new. My playlists will be gone. That doth suck to the highest.

*grumble*



tweaker

Collectible Fail

There was a time, albeit quite a while ago, when fast food wasn't all that terrible. At least it wasn't to me. I would have been pretty young back then, but I know that standards across the board have plummeted while productivity and profitability reign supreme in that market.

At any rate, McDonald's was a pretty regular thing for me up until sometime late in my high school career. As a kid, it was great.

Also great were the collectibles that they had. Not the Happy Meal toys, but the actual collectibles. One of my favorites was always collectible drinking glasses. Sadly, that trend cheapened with everything else from the Golden Arches as they became plastic and generally very cheesy. Until recently.

With the new Shrek movie coming out, Mickey D's signed on and offered drinking glasses. Real drinking glasses. Like, the kind actually made of glass. I was stoked. Not only were they glass, but they were very decorative and made for a killer oversize cocktail tumbler.

Well, they would have, until now. I'd bet a dollar this crap came from China.

*sigh*

Is there anything McDonald's can't screw up these days?



tweaker

Shark Condition: Jumped

I think it's safe to say that we're well past the point of grasping at straws. Via HuffPo:

Federal officials are hoping film director James Cameron can help them come up with ideas on how to stop the disastrous oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico.

I'm decently offended by this, being such a Star Wars fan. I mean, why the hell didn't George Lucas get a phone call between the Challenger or Columbia disasters? No one called Michael Mann after Columbine.

Seriously. Read the whole thing. We're officially in an alternate universe. Someone call Tom Stranger.



tweaker

Brief Mobile Update

Real quick, y'all: all's well. It's all been just tests so far. I won't know anything for sure until the rest of the tests are done. I was gonna put up a better post, but Mother Nature saw fit to nail the area with some t-storms. I shut down the PC a few minutes ago.

One thing: thank you all so very much for your support. It means more than you know.



tweaker

Monday Mornings (Effectively)

I know, it's Tuesday, but it's a Monday. I'm hungry, and I haven't had any coffee. I'm cranky.

I haven't eaten nor drank beyond water since 2200 yesterday. I have a 12-hour fast before my appointment this morning for blood work and an echocardiogram.

I'll bet that raises questions.

Well, a couple weeks ago I had a weird thing happen. Right around noon on a Wednesday, I started feeling really strange. I was, all of a sudden, very tired. That turned into dizziness. Later I started feeling like a large individual was standing on my chest, which made normal breathing rather difficult. I was very hot; I constantly felt like the temperature in the room was a cozy 97 degrees, and I had the sweats to prove it. Eventually I started to have a sharp pain in my chest, there on the left side in the middle of the ribcage (I think there's something important behind that...). All of this was capped by a general feeling that Something Is Very Wrong.

I felt like shit for the rest of Wednesday. The Wifey asked me if I was feeling okay that evening, and all I told her was that I didn't feel good. Truth was, I knew that I was lying, and I was lying because I was scared of what was really happening.

Thursday came, and I felt better that morning. Still a little off, but good enough to work. So off I went. Before lunch, the same thing started all over again. I had a lunch meeting with a manufacturer's rep, during which I sat and stared at the wall the whole time. I nearly told my boss to take me to the hospital when the chest pain started up again, and I damn-sure should have. (I will not be making that mistake again.) Worked until a little after five, and back home. Only this time, when I got home, The Wifey knew that something was really wrong. She grilled me about it until I spilled. During the conversation she mentioned going to see a doctor, but as soon as I said "chest pain", talking was pretty much done. The Little Girl was taken to Grandma and Grandpa's house, and I was taken to the emergency room.

The town I live in is not too far away from San Antonio, but I've spent enough time in the ERs there to know that it takes a long time to get anywhere. I know chest pain gets you bumped to the front of the line, but I also didn't want the drive. Fortunately, there's a new small Methodist hospital about five minutes from my house, so there we went. As expected, the waiting room was empty. So was the rest of the ER besides staff, so right into the triage nurse I went. Quick vitals and whatnot and back to a room we go, where she starts hooking up a 12-lead to me while continuing to get a history.

Ambulance Driver will appreciate this next part.

While the triage nurse is hooking me up, word graces the ear of what is clearly the Queen Bee of the ER Nursing Staff, who walks in the room with a (sort of) smile on her face and asks me how I'm feeling.

Queen Bee: "Chest pain, right?"
Me: "Yes, ma'am."
Queen Bee, still with (sort of) smile, but discreet fire and brimstone in eyes to Triage Nurse: "You need to call for backup, Hon; this ain't no one-man show."

That's when a flood of nurses walked in to really get me started. History was continued, though by this time I was repeating my symptoms to every new person that walked in the room. EKG was running, and blood was about to be drawn. This is where things got bad for The Wifey, who was sitting at my side the whole time.

(Let me first say that I have no problems with needles. Or scalpels. Or any of that stuff. I donate blood, and I watch when the stick the needle in. I watched The Wifey's C-Section. I watched two of my own surgeries. One could argue that I have a significant constitution bonus somewhere.)

So, I knew that I was getting an FNG when, of the two nurses that walked in together, the first said to the one holding the blood-draw stuff, "It's okay. You can do it." I figured I'm pretty good with this stuff, and it generally doesn't bother me even when they miss, so if she's gotta learn, I'd be a good patient to learn on.

She was digging for a vein when the ER Doc walked in, and she was digging for a vein during the entire repeated symptoms and history. After a while, it was really starting to distract. It wasn't quite killing me, but it was getting there in a hurry. I stopped my history, looked over at her, and said, "You find that vein yet, Hon?" She blushed and apologized, and I felt bad. "It's alright," I said. "Relax, but let's git-r-dun, okay?"

I guess that was the confidence she needed, because within a couple seconds she was In Like Flynn, and the blood draw began. I'm not sure just how much blood they needed for testing, but I know exactly how much they took: roughly enough for a transfusion for someone who's on "E". She finished that up, switched over to the IV, taped me all up and started on her merry way. She didn't make it far.

I had continued my conversation with the ER Doc, and after a minute or so I started to have the same symptoms that put me in the ER in the first place. I got very flush, and the very bad feelings all started rushing back to me. My demeanor - which had been cool as ice so far - suddenly changed to one of not very calm, and I said, "It's happening again. Right now." ER Doc sprung from leaning against a countertop and was at my bedside with a very concerned look on his face, which I caught the faintest glimpse of before I went out.

Some time apparently passed, after which I could not see anything, but I could hear echos of all the sounds around me. I was awake, I thought, but I could not wake up. I'm not sure I was trying all that hard. Then I saw light, but nothing was in focus. Then, all at once, the echos turned to articulate sounds and the blurry light turned into my room at the ER, where ER Doc was in my face not quite yelling and nurses were all around me. One of the sounds I heard was the EKG screaming, then stopping and returning to normal function. When the smoke cleared, and the Doc was asking me what happened, I knew right away. I had felt like this before. I had a vasovagal syncope and went night-night for a couple minutes until my heart decided to let my brain have some blood again, which apparently is required when you want to do stuff like be awake.

Ha, ha, funny, right? Kinda funny? Well, as long as you aren't the concerned spouse. Remember how she's sitting right there? Yeah. All she knows is that we're in the hospital because I'd been having chest pains, and then I crash and the heart monitor starts screaming alarms that queue a great deal of activity and concern from the ER staff.

Once the smoke cleared from that little episode and I got some cold water in me, everyone left me alone with The Wifey. I knew what happened, and I knew what she saw. I felt really bad for her. She said she was alright. I knew she was lying. I didn't push.

We stayed there while they ran their tests, which, naturally, all came back A.O.K. The ER Doc wanted me to follow up with a cardiologist, since a 30-year-old guy shouldn't be having these sorts of issues. We both agreed that it'd be best to rule everything out when it comes to the ticker. I met with a cardiologist a couple days later, who looked at my EKG and blood test results, and scheduled a bunch more tests.

So that brings us to today. I've got a little over an hour before I go for more blood tests (and hopefully less passing out) and the ECHO.

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't worried at all.

Y'all say a little prayer, just in case, alright?



tweaker