Cheaper Than Therapy

... and a whole lot prettier!

And now for something completely different

My sister had another heart attack, it looks like (we'll know for sure tomorrow). There was a clot from the last surgery, and one of her stents slipped. So they rushed her back to the emergency room (where there was no nonsense from her Group Health plan, at least), and went back in. From what I understand (which isn't much), they adjusted or replaced the second stent, added a third one, and took care of the clot. This time there wasn't any bleeding from the procedure, so that's a good thing.

In the mean time, I'd like to spend a couple of seconds not contemplating major medical emergencies...

What Tarot Card Are You?

You are The Moon

Hope, expectation, Bright promises.

The Moon is a card of magic and mystery - when prominent you know that nothing is as it seems, particularly when it concerns relationships. All logic is thrown out the window.

The Moon is all about visions and illusions, madness, genius and poetry. This is a card that has to do with sleep, and so with both dreams and nightmares. It is a scary card in that it warns that there might be hidden enemies, tricks and falsehoods. But it should also be remembered that this is a card of great creativity, of powerful magic, primal feelings and intuition. You may be going through a time of emotional and mental trial; if you have any past mental problems, you must be vigilant in taking your medication but avoid drugs or alcohol, as abuse of either will cause them irreparable damage. This time however, can also result in great creativity, psychic powers, visions and insight. You can and should trust your intuition.

What Tarot Card are You?
Take the Test to Find Out.

We now return you to your regularly scheduled March.

I Think March Can Outwait Me

I thought I could beat this month, but it is a sneaky little bugger. Is it over yet?

Although Banana Dog has recovered from her life threatening bout of internal hemorrhaging, my sister had a freakily similar post surgery crisis (at least the hospital allowed the EMT's to bring her in without making them pick her up...).

She had to go via ambulance back into the hospital this past weekend, where they finally figured out she had a 90% blockage and an 85% blockage that they somehow missed the first time, but now that they'd noticed it, they had to fix it. So, they went right in and did the stent thing. Which went fine until they were taking out the gear. Somehow, they caused a "retroperitoneal bleed", which meant she lost about 4 pints of blood (40% or more of the blood in her system) from the back side of the femoral artery into the back of her abdominal cavity... her BP dropped to very bad levels, heart rate plummeted too. They rushed her up to the ICU, where they gave her several units of blood and managed to bring her back, but it sounds like it was a close one.

The scary thing is, because of the last bout of bleeding after sticking the camera in the same way, they were prepared for problems and it still went all haywire.

The good news is, she's home and feeling better. And her chest feels good, finally, because of the increased blood flow. Bad news is, her BP is way up because she can't take her BP meds. But she should be back on them soon.

Fingers crossed!

Hey, March, if I promise to sit in the corner and not make any trouble, will you lighten up?

March Can Kiss My...

flabby a$$*!

I just got a summons for jury duty.

March is a Lying Troll...

... a skank, a harlot, a slut.

Banana Dog went in to be spayed on Friday. A simple procedure. So I'm not sure how we ended up at the emergency vet last night, our 70 lb one year old lab cradled in Laughing Boy's arms, gushing blood all over him and the floor. For now, she's stable. LB is still furious that it could have come to this, although we're not sure who to be furious with. The universe, I guess. They gave her plasma, the pressure bandages staunched the bleeding, internal and external, and she's finally eating something. Because she wasn't clotting as she should have been, they didn't want to do more surgery if they could help it, as she was already down quite a bit of blood and giving her more places to bleed from didn't seem to be a good idea.

What I'm most upset about is she was "only" bleeding internally when we got to the vet. The open wound happened when they refused to let us bring her in unless we carried her (not allowed to walk her across the lobby floor). I explained that she was a 70 pound dog with a fresh abdominal incision, and the receptionist's response was "Well, then you'd better bring some help". I swear, I could hear her smirking over the phone. This place has stretchers, gurneys and rolling metal dollies to ferry the wounded dogs from the parking lot into the office, so there was no reason to make us lift her, tearing her fresh abdominal incision open in the process. The look on LB's face was almost as awful as watching her bleed all over him and the sidewalk.

Add to that, my sister is back in the hospital today, for observation. She's still having chest pains, which based on all their lovely tests shouldn't be happening. This time, they checked her into the correct hospital, so all her treatments and doctors are plan-approved and instantly available.

Good news, I know. For now, everybody is safe. I keep telling myself that. But my brain is seriously hamster-wheeling.

If March wants to get back into my good graces, it has some serious sucking up to do.

*UPDATE: Her (the dog, I mean) blood protein levels went up to 30 (from a low crash of 23), and the swelling went down, and she ate. So she's home, wearing the largest, most garishly fetching plastic e-collar I've ever seen. Sticks out a good 4 or 5 inches past her very long nose. As for her health, she's inclined to bounce around like nothing ever happened (a quick doctor safe and doctor-advised sedative cut that short... Hey, Doc... Where's my seadative?). LB and I, however, are slumped on the floor, thoroughly exhausted. And very, very relieved.

My sister's stress test and cardiologist-fest is tomorrow, and should go well too.

Thanks to all for the kinds words and support!

Note to Self:

Self, if you ever get the chance to do-over some period in your life, February 2007 is NOT the month to choose.

My previously endearing credit union just started, after three uneventful years, putting a week-long hold on payroll checks. Just because they can, apparently. So, in a fit of righteous indignation, I went to open an account at a bank affiliated with a company where Laughing Boy and I have our home loan.

While I was there, they casually asked if I would be interested in re-financing our mortgage. With visions of money saved dancing in front of me, I believed them when they said I was "pre-approved for a paperless refi". And blithely repeated that assurance to Laughing Boy. Who has been gracious enough not to remind me of that during the ensuing tax-return and W2 blizzard.

I have seen less paper in the gigantic metal dumpsters at the recycling center. My favorite part, though, was when they sheepishly informed me that they couldn't find any proof that I had paid the mortgage in October. Even though they and I both know that if I had missed a single payment, they would have sent large bands of thugs to my house before now.

Luckily I had traipsed into that very branch to pay that month, so in addition to my November statement from them confirming that they had indeed received my October payment, and on time too, and my evil credit union's statement showing that a check for that very amount had cleared my account that same day, I had a signed receipt from their branch manager confirming that I had handed her the check on the day in question. But I would like to ask them one teeny tiny question... do they really expect me to trust them with my money if they can't keep track of it?

In other news, my way-too-young-for-this-to-be-happening sister just had a heart attack last weekend. She didn't go to the doctor until Monday, so it took until today for them to run enough tests for us to be sure that there was no permanent damage, and that she's got enough medication to be safe and sound until her plan-approved cardiologist can clear his busy schedule enough to fit her in.

So you can imagine my relief when I raised my head and saw March smiling at me.