This has been bugging me so I thought that mentioning it might do some good. This past Tuesday night I had one helluva bad case of indigestion. Really knocked me off my pins, and I imagined all sorts of gall baldder problems, or oncoming ulcers, but the discomfort abated and I went my merry way. Didn't get much sleep so I figured that was the reason I was so bloody tired. Went to the range on Thursday and had to fight off the drowsies, but it figured that I shot the best groups ever because life is like that.

Long story short, I had a heart attack, or as the medical professional like calling it, a cardiac event, or some other such nonsense because if it sounds simple they can't charge you as much to fix it. I'm okay, just a little winded still and need to get on some meds and have more tests, yadda yadda, but I wasn't spending this weekend in the hospital for love or money because it would have been a waste of so very many things. The deal is if I don't feel the pain again I can wait until Tuesday to get back to being a guinea pig for the guys in the white coats, but the point I wish to make is the fact that I have recognized the problem and am not going into the kind of denial that cranky old frigs are apt to do.

I'll do what they want. I owe it to Lisa and my family to take care of things because that's who really feels the pain in the long run. Thinking of oneself in such instances is really cruel to those who love you. The old bod must have shook it off fairly well because test after test was coming up okay until they got the blasted blood work back, and all of these CRITICAL ENZYMES were popping up all over. The doctors office was calling and leaving messages every half hour for me to get my ass in or call 911, but we'd turned on the answering machine to have a little peace and when I finally got back to them they threatened to have a bell surgically implanted in me if I didn't promise to pay more attention.

Bottom line is it doesn't matter how good you feel or how tough you believe yourself to be. Unless you're a hermit, there are others who feel your pain so my advice is to think of them when you want to play John Wayne with your life. One tear from Lisa hurt me far greater than anything I'd felt up to that point in time and I do not want to see that again. I'm spending the long weekend inside and out of the sun and am reading and resting like those pencil necks want. If I can be good then none of you have an excuse.

Thing that bugs me is about 3 months ago I passed a monster physical and stress test with flying colors, so they don't know squat if and when it's gonna hit ya because nowadays the medical profession specializes in cut and stitch since that's where the money is, but I won't bitch about that too much.

And thanks to a new friend who I told the deal to. I was worrying that I'd suddenly drop off the map and folks would think I was ignoring them so I turned to someone I trusted to get the scoop out should worse come to worse.

I WAS planning a monster barbeque, meat-and-more-meat followed by meat day on Monday, but I think I'll roast up some corn instead. I think 90 or so ears will do. It'll keep me busy and I can play make-believe like it's burger and steak and sausage and shrimp stuff.