I didn't mean to bring the good conversation of yesterday to a screeching halt, but, on the advice of my doctor's nurse, I spent last a good chunk of last evening in the ER...which is an interesting place, with nice people. The problem with it, I've decided, is that a) when you're there you're either sick, hurt, or worried, and b) the meter is running at a frantic rate, clicking off the dollars like a Geiger counter in a uranium mine. I'm fine, by the way. They thought I might be having a mini-stroke, a.k.a. "TIA," but I wasn't. "You have a normal human brain!" the doctor informed me cheerfully after my CT scan. No sign of past strokes or what he tactfully referred to as "masses." Then he added, "Scratch that. I mean a healthy human brain. You'll have to tell me if it's normal!"
Sort of. I was thinking, well, I like primes and not zooms, and black-and-white more than color, and prints more than on-screen images, and pictures with people more than landscapes, and so forth.
Not entirely normal. Scratch that—not entirely average.
In other words, I had just been one of the worried ones. But not any more. Now I'm reassured. But poorer. We still have to explain the strange symptoms, but hopefully a follow-up visit with my doctor next week will do that.
I did very little at the hospital but lie around, but for some reason it seemed to tire me out anyway. So I spent today resting and listening to Coleman Hawkins. I think I might spend a good chunk of tomorrow resting, too. On the other hand, I suspect that resting too much might be what got me into trouble in the first place.
But you don't want to hear about that...
[Con't. in the next post]