In the last two weeks I've been to the ER three times. My heart kept going back into a-fib. They hit me with the paddles the first time, but only lasted two days before it happened again. Then it was something into my IV, and the doctor finally decided to put me on this really nasty medication that prevents my heart from beating too fast (a good thing), but could kill me without warning (not a good thing). Who knows how long it'll be before they can schedule the procedure to isolate the nerves sending the wrong signal and disconnect it.
And if all that wasn't bad enough, my hair started falling out in fist-fulls about a week ago. I know some of you are probably thinking, "What's the big deal?" Well for me, my long blond pony-tail was about the only thing I liked about myself. It felt like the only thing I could do right, and also identified me as a Vietnam vet. I'll be bald by next week and won't want to leave the house. All this and I want a cigarette so frikin bad I could scream. I just can't suddenly stop a 55 year old habit and deal with it coherently.
On a somewhat positive note, I did finish re-writing the short story I was working on months ago and submitted it to my critique group. They all loved it with only a few minor comments. I addressed those and entered it into several contests. We'll see what happens.
I hope this rainbow brings you a pot of gold! Thanks for reading.
