We can make her better than she was before…maybe…

So, I’ve had a sore arm for about a month. Finally today I decided to bite the bullet and haul my fat arse – sorry Maverick but it is-you’re just too sweetly politically correct to say – that or on drugs – where was I…hauled said fat arse to the hospital emergency. Why? I decided that I may have a heart problem and needed to get it checked. It’s a family history thing. I drove – never do that unless you’re insane or me – to emergency and skidded Patrick, my car, into the 20 minutes only-or-we-tow-you-parking bay and went in and saw the great people at emergency. Prince Charles Hospital – you rock. They were fantastic. I was prodded, poked, bled dry, fed and given the best most comfy pj’s to wear as they tried to work out what was wrong with my arm. I had a stress test - on a treadmill hooked up to monitors – reminded me of the old Six million Dollar Man TV show – anyway I have to say I aced the treadmill test smart arse that I am.

The conclusion? All tests were really good and I’m healthy. It was the aftermath of cough from hell that I had for over three months that screwed up many of my muscles and they’re just recovering. That and I may have over exerted myself on weights at the gym. Do I regret the day spent in emergency? Hell no. Anyone who has the slightest hint something is not right should check it out. Let’s face it you only get one body and while it may not be ideal it’s what you have to work with.

And Patrick my car? They allowed him to sit in the emergency parking bay for hours. How nice.

Amarinda Jones
Penn Halligan
www.amarindajones.com
www.amarindajones.blogspot.com
Be daring...read an Amarinda book