Wednesday is blood coagulation day. I drive in to St Vincents hospital, wander down a long hallway and disappear in to the Anti Coagulation Center and get blood taken to see how my "numbers" are for the blood thinners I take which are not really blood thinners at all. They are anti coagulators. Today I scored in the acceptable range in everything - blood pressure, temperature, heart rate, oxygen level and, of course, coagulation level.
"Good boy" chirped the technician, sounding like a first grade teacher talking to a student who went to the john and emptied his bladder all by himself without soiling his pants or writing on the wall in urine. I called Ann to give her the god news. She said, "Good boy!", with almost the same amount of enthusiasm the technician expressed. That's two "Good Boys" in one day and I didn't do anything like making a speech at the U.N or finding a cure for some STD. Life is good when all of that praise is heaped on me for doing nothing. Who said that getting old was difficult.
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GOOD BOY! Sorry, I couldn't help myself. I gave up on telling people how old I am, because some days I feel older then I really am.
ReplyDeleteToday I feel like a young kitten playing with some cat-nip. My head is in the clouds, or maybe it's a lack of oxygen getting to my brain?