I Went Kicking and Screaming

Occasionally, I get what is called Afibulation. It’s where the heart decides that instead of normally my 65-70 beats per minute, it feels like it wants to run The Boston Marathon, and the heart rate will go up to 160-180 beats per minute.

Now, in all fairness, when I am having a wonderful sexual experience, I don’t CARE if it gets that high because I am enjoying the experience. When, however, I am SLEEPING, and this happens, it becomes quite disconcerting.

Saturday morning at about 3 AM, (Why is it ALWAYS 3 AM), I awoke from a sound sleep with this out of control arrhythmia. No, I WASN’T having SEX at the time, I SAID I was sleeping.

I clocked my heart rate at 175 and I started to have chest pains so I decided that a trip to the ER was in order. I called a friend and she took me to the hospital…

When I got there, about 4 AM, I expected it to be deserted, but Noooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Two million OTHER people were there also, bleeding from EVERYWHERE, and trying to get someone to see THEM first.

Naturally, I wasn’t having any of THAT, so at Triage, I told them I thought I was having a heart attack and was immediately whisked away for an EKG and was shot full of propranolol, a drug that lowers the heart rate.

Blood enzyme tests were done, and it showed that I WAS having a heart attack. YIKES!!!!! They shot me up with morphine for the pain…Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. J

I was doomed, I had to stay n the hospital until every test know o man could be done, BUT, the only problem THERE was that they couldn’t b done until Monday.

Early Monday (Today), they started their testing and discovered that while I DID have a heart attack, it was a smaller one and didn’t do much damage. So NOW, I have to stay off work for a week and weave wicker baskets or something. Nothing work related…Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So now I am a prisoner in my own home. I am sooooooooooo feakin’ bored I wanna tear my hair out.

I say this because now I can write more, so you nice folks out there may be inundated with about 3000 Dear Sooz letters I have to catch up on… Hope you enjoy….

Until Later…




Dreamshadow59’s Brush with Mortality


It was Friday night in a crowed bar, friends, Booze, and music playing. People laughing, dancing, and the signs of a drunken evening were quickly unraveling. George Thoroughgood’s Bad to the Bone was playing on the juke box, and mindless chatter and laughter were heard throughout the bar.

I was on my 7th Vodka and Cranberry when I began to feel nauseous. Assuming I was drunk, I let it go and continued drinking my drink. It wasn’t until my chest felt like an elephant sitting on it, and my increased shortness of breath continued that someone called for an ambulance.

I was rushed to the Hospital, where I was immediately worked on by the cutest ER Dr. imaginable. He looked like a young Eric Estrada with huge arms and what appeared to be in my drunken state a six pack tighter than Arnold Schwarzenegger’s. If I wasn’t in so much pain I could have F**KED him right there on the gurney.

Long story short, (No longer possible), They did some kind of blood work on me, and when it came BACK…Seemed like HOURS…They said I had a “little” heart attack. Of course they wanted to run about 4000 tests on me so the gurney and I became fast friends…I called it Boris…Don’t ask me why…I was DRUNK people…

Anyway, after running what seemed to be a 1000 tests on me, the conclusion was that although my arteries were “partially” blocked, I didn’t need any surgery at this time. Their advice…STOP ALL drinking and take a week off from my pressure cooker stressful job.

OK…The job I can understand, but, the DRINKING, (considering that I am a high functioning alcoholic), was devastating. The Dr. told me that in no uncertain terms was I to drink a DROP of alcohol within the next week. So, here I sit, Bored out of my skull, SOBER, for the first time since the Yankee’s started playing, and wishing I was in Oz, cause that’s where I feel like I AM.

If there are ANY cardiologists out there that say I can drink IF I watch my stress level, CALL ME…We will have a “little” party, just sayin’… Lighten up here people… Until Later…

Sooz Out…