…flat as a board. And you gotta have water to surf and that massive rain storm provided plenty.
I felt like shit all day yesterday, but when it was time to Hash, I headed out. I got maybe 100 yards from home and was out of breath (it is a very slight uphill). I almost turned around then and there but convinced myself to push on. A bit further up the road, I had to stop once more to catch my breath. Not good! I reached the point where the Hash trail intersected with my path and waited for the Hashers to arrive. I knew I wouldn’t be doing any climbing whatsoever, but I figured I’d tag along until the first up, then make my way to the On-Home (at Leech My Nuggets house in Alta Vista). About a kilometer later, I said goodbye to the group and began my solo flat trek. Not long afterward, the sky opened up, and I was drenched from head to toe. Yeah, it was as fun as it sounds. I was heading up Sawmill Road when a trike pulled over and offered me a ride. Well, I was going to catch one at the 7/11 anyway to avoid the uphill walk to Alta Vista, so why not? My trail was 3K or so all in.
I wasn’t feeling much better during the Hash Circle. When the rain let up about halfway through the festivities, I headed for home. And last night might have been my worst night ever. In addition to feeling weak and breathless, I developed a pain in my chest. Not sure what the fuck that’s all about, but I’m hoping what I’ve assumed to be lung issues isn’t heart-related instead. I think it might be acid reflux or something similar, but I don’t recall experiencing that before. I bought some meds for that this morning, but so far, the ache is still there, although it has moved down to my mid-section. Before going to bed last night, I gave Swan the contact info for my kids, just to be on the safe side. It freaked her out, though.
So, I have a lot to discuss with the pulmonary doctor today. I am going to the newly reopened hospital in Barretto, and hopefully, they have the facilities to perform any necessary tests to diagnose and correct whatever ails me. As is the case in most hospitals in the PI, there are no appointments– I have to show up and wait on a first-come, first-seen basis. We stopped in on the way to Royal this morning and signed up. The doctor is scheduled to arrive at 2:00 p.m., and I’ll be there at 1:30 waiting. Damn, I hope this goes well. I hate feeling like this, and I really miss my walkaholic life.
Not the best of days, and hopefully the worst is over.
It’s been interesting watching the left’s convulsions since the failed assassination attempt. All that unity talk lasted less than a day, and now Trump is a fascist again. Oh, and Vance will also participate in the destruction of democracy. Whatever. Pick a better candidate next time, Dems. Trump didn’t make America great again in his first term, but it was a lot better than it is now.
And even the ads I’m seeing on Facebook are changing.
Today’s YouTube video is a short but interesting account of a guy choosing the Philippines over the Scottish homeland that he loves. Yeah, you need to exercise moderation and self-control if you are going to adapt to the lifestyle here, but I would be very unhappy living in the USA.
Some humor before I go to the hospital:
Okay, my transport to the UltraCare facility will be arriving soon. I’d best get prepared. I’ll let you know how it goes tomorrow.
Not sure what the fuck that’s all about, but I’m hoping what I’ve assumed to be lung issues isn’t heart-related instead.
This suggestion may be coming too late, but tell the docs about my experience misinterpreting my breathing issues as a lung/COVID problem when it turned out to be a heart-failure problem. Make sure they do a workup on both your heart and your lungs—cardiac ultrasound, the works. You gotta clear up the breathing somehow. As Mr. Miyagi says, “No breathe, no life!”
Yep, let’s stretch it out another fifteen years or so
My own suspicion is that alcohol is the elephant in the room. Saving yourself may require quitting the bottle entirely (or almost entirely), kind of like what I’m having to do with carbs thanks to my carb-related angina. You may have to limit yourself to one drinking day a month—your cheat day. Think you can do it? This could be your “I can quit anytime I want!” moment.
Anyway, I hope the hospital gives you good, practical news.
Best wishes for a good-news diagnosis.
Kev, the doctor didn’t show up yesterday. I have an appointment with a different doctor this morning. When I had the nose nodule surgery back in December, I had to get cardiologist clearance, and that included those tests you mentioned. Hopefully, my heart function has not deteriorated that much in a few months. I’ll definitely ask about it, though, and I don’t mind re-testing to be sure. FWIW, my blood oxygen has been much improved over the last twelve hours (97%), so perhaps things are getting better on their own.
I come from a beer-drinking culture, and imbibing is part of who I am. I suppose I could quit anytime I want, but I can’t imagine a scenario where I’d want to. Quit or die, maybe. Otherwise, probably not. That said, I pride myself on not letting alcohol control my life. I see the 9 a.m. drinkers around town and just shake my head. That will never be me. I have a window for drinking (usually no earlier than four or later than 8) that I adhere to. I rarely drink hard liquor, and the beer I drink is so low in alcohol content that beer connoisseurs mock it as being close to water. I over-indulge occasionally, but almost never get “pass out” or “falling down” drunk. So, I feel like I’m the master of my life, not the beer I drink.
Thanks, Drain.
Best wishes for a good news diagnosis and also hope you are getting better soon.
You are right. Beer is in my life always especially in summer day ,but I’m the master of my life.
cheers~
Btw I bought some colored pens and small notebooks to share with the kids I met. See you in two weeks.
Have a good day.
That will make some kids happy for sure. See ya!