Great Terrible News

Last week I spent a couple days in the hospital having lots of tests done. I first went to a doctor in West Ashley and told him all about my dainty disposition. For the first time in life I was pleased by a doctor. He asked questions. He listened to me. He sat back and thought quietly rather than blurting out the first thing he came up with. We spent the first day testing my blood pressure in various positions. "Sit Laura. Now stand...  now lie down and don't move!"

There was much "hmm"ing and index fingers on chins. He came up with a few conclusions and sent me Downtown to have an echocardiogram, just to double check that blood flow through my ticker. I arrived at 9:00 am and sat awkwardly amongst a number of 80 year olds hacking goop into tissues and adjusting the transparent tubes running down the front of their khaki cardigans.

"What are you here for?" the receptionist asked me as an old lady inched off to the waiting room.
"An echogram." I told her. And perhaps public humiliation, I thought to myself, imagining a cluster of med-school students present to observe my topless x-ray. Maybe I could sell tickets, I thought, $7 in advance. $10 at the door. They're poor students after all. Alas it was just me and the technician in there, a near-mute blonde woman who copped a good feel without even buying me dinner first.
I then went on to have blood drawn to test all sorts of goodies including my thyroid who I had already determined was the culprit.

My great terrible news is that I'm perfectly healthy. My heart looks great, my thyroid is fine, my blood is a lovely deep crimson. So what the problem, man!

The doctor determined that I'm fainting due to low blood pressure. When folks get warm their arteries and blood vessels dilate to let off some steam and therefore you get less blood flow to the brain. Because my blood is sluggish, it doesn't refill my arteries in time and I don't get any oxygen to my brain. And then I faint. This also explains why I feel sick when I stand up for a long time. My slug blood pools in my legs, leaving the top half of me running on fumes.

What he doesn't know is why this is happening to me or why it ever started in the first place. My blood pressure is normal but when I get hot, it plummets. He says this very common in old folks, like little old ladies that get hot and faint in church, but also sometimes women have lower blood pressure because they tend to avoid salty foods due to bloat-phobia. I'm a big fan of salt and was delighted when he told me to eat more french fries and potato chips. Most of all he told me that there's not much we can do about it and I'll just have to be ready for it. Beaches, concerts, anything wonderful in this life, it's all a hazard and I shall require an entourage of water jugs and umbrellas for any fun seeking. My baggage keeps piling.

This is terrible news because all I want to do is go outside. I want to walk buddy before 10pm. I want to go kayaking and climb mountains. Most of all I want to go back to work on the farm but I don't feel well when I do these things. I'm going to have to move to Vermont or some other dreadfully cold place. Thats the worst part! Just because I can't stand heat doesn't mean I enjoy the cold. Cold hurts my bones!! I've never been north of Charleston in the winter. I don't even know cold!

Well I've got news for my slug blood. I ain't crossin' the Mason Dixon.

So anyways, enjoy these classics.

 

None have ever seen such fury in a youngster. I'd like you all to know that I've been a victim of this rage my whole life. For the record, Ellen is yelling at Alston to get his "butt back in the chair."
Sweet Jordan minds his own business and I'm just generally appalled. Ellen's always been so bossy.