Here's a note -- Friday at Dr. Symkoviak's office I learned I have a blood pressure of 90/50. I also had a pulse first of 50 then on second check, it was 63. "I should be dead or at least still in bed," I cleverly observed. "At least dizzy", the Protime administrator responded snappily.
Who would dare ask anything of me?
Yet I'm asked to stomp through half of West Jordan to watch hours of parade, stay awake through Ice Age and then attend fireworks later on on the fourth. I'm telling you, the respect I receive isn't up to the standards I would have set.
Yet as I type, I can tell I'm not mustering up a great deal of support -- which is just as well. I'll just be sitting over here, sniffling quietly to myself, or not.
4 comments:
Did you have party hats at your pity party? xo
You're hilarious, Wendy, but not too. Love
doctors never have anything nice to say. one of the reasons i only see them if i broke something or am gushing blood.
Amen, Ben
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