The Infernal Rose was raising such a fuss, leaping into my lap at every possible moment, and literally screaming at me from across the room, that I was considering taking her to the vet for a check-up. As it turns out, it appears she was merely trying to get my attention, and was yelling at me, saying “Get your ass to a doctor!”

I had been experiencing shortness of breath and some forgetfulness over the past few months, but, like many idiots before me, I didn’t go to the doctor until my wife made me.

Advertisement

A neat irony of my visit to my personal physician is that he said that it may have been the fact that I walked so much that has kept me alive . . . but for now, until my heart problems are resolved, the walks are a thing of the past.

Dynamic tension is also out for the time being; somewhere out there, Charles Atlas is shaking his head in disgust at me.

Advertisement

Carrying in groceries from the car . . . out of the picture for the time being.

Taking out the trash . . . ditto.

Advertisement

What to do, since I am temporarily a useless member of my own household?

Well, I can still write. In fact, over the years, my writing and my show have seen me through many tough times, and they will see me through this one, as well.

I can work on my novel, my play, and put more effort into my history book.

I can work on my blog more often, and finally get some of those articles written I have been meaning to get to.

Advertisement

I can work on my show – 2016 marks 25 years on the air!

As always, I am grateful for my wife, who knows much more about medical issues than I ever will.

And, really, I guess I’m grateful to the Infernal Rose, who even as I write this is sitting on the kitchen counter, staring at me with a laser-like gaze.

******

Quote of the Day

“We write to taste life twice, in the moment and in retrospect.” – Anaïs Nin

rsdrake@cox.net