Scary night, long night

It all started out fun enough.. a few drinks with friends, boss and co-workers at the favorite watering hole. Plans were made for some vacation time next year, all was great.

Got home and things got really strange..

We'd just gotten home and were deciding on what to eat instead of the wings we almost stopped to buy, the Jbird went downstairs for something. I started having the weirdest feeling, and having read that "womens' heart attacks are different" email, I got scared. At some point, I put my coat back on, and remember starting down the stairs to call for Jay.
Next thing I knew, there were a bunch of uniformed people around me sticking little pads on my pulse points, asking me questions, and I realized I was on the floor by the laundry room at the bottom of the stairs. They said I seemed okay by their machine, but perhaps should be transported to the hospital for more tests. I couldn't tell if I was hurt, too many numb spots that I've developed lately, so they helped me upstairs to a gurney set up in our living room. From there, to the ambulance outside.. wow! so many flashing lights. I could hear the Jbird talking to our neighbor. I was still sort of shakey and frightened, and they had a hard time getting into a vein to give me something along with a bag of fluids. That's not unusual for me, I have veins that are deep and they roll. Yah, rock and roll baby, that's me.

A four/five/six,.. how long was it anyway?.. wait and tests, wait and down the hall for a CAT scan or two, wait and EKG, etc. Did you know that they can now wheel a portable xray machine into the room for a chest xray? I didn't either, that was fascinating. Anyway, hours later, another exam and the doc releases me with head injury and hematoma after-care instructions. Tests came out normal, so worries are relieved, but I was exhausted. The Jbird called into work for me, although I had texted my HR boss while waiting for the EKG, so I know they knew about me.

I've rested most of the day, but I'm still tired and going back to bed. I should be okay for work tomorrow, and I'll go see my PCP in the next few days to get all the rest of the tests looked over.

I'm okay, heads a bit sore on one side, my vision is a bit off, and I hurt in some places, and that's all temporary but that sure was scary. I'm still a bit shaky over the whole thing since these odd occurances haven't happened before, and not with a fall down the stairs.

Anyway, I'll soon be back to my old self, hopefully in time my *pre-auto incident* self.

Hugs to y'all,

R.

Just for fun, what I'm worth in bed

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Would you believe it? I learned a new term today. "Tramp Stamp"
Huh. I didn't realize that a part of my large waist/hip tattoo is referred to that way.
And that I may be worth less if I'm over 30, or hell, maybe I'm worth more.

How about you? Clicky on the piccy and let us know what you're worth in bed.

Catty talk...

For those of you who know me, Ymir needed a trimming.



For those who don't, Ymir (we pronounce it "Meers", don't ask why) is my huge swear-he's-part-bobcat fuzzy boy kitty. His fur is composed of two cats that had no business getting that friendly, a Turkish Angora momma and an unknown poppa. We think it may have been a bobcat, he's so muscular and massive, but he's also a total sissy, so poppa was obviously not around to teach him various big, bad bobcat ways.

so.. I've been taking him out to various groomers, and much to my dismay, most of them keep him in his little carrier for hours, only to take him out right before I get there and make me wait while they hurriedly "shave" the poor little bugger. He makes terrible noises and the whole thing is an ordeal, except when all is done, and he loves his new haircut. This only takes place once he's home and safe of course. Fewer and fewer groomers are willing to do cats, and even fewer want to mess with my Big Ole Kitty.

I bought a rather pricey (for WalMart, that is) set of trimmer/clippers and have had them charged up in the kitchen for, oh about three weeks now. Ymir had finally gotten to the point where his fur was threatening to not only mat in another week, but downright turn to felt, which it has done in the past. This past Sunday, Jbird and I scooped him up onto a sheet on the kitchen counter, and with Jbird holding fast to him, I gave him a very um.. choppy buzzcut. The best part is that he only protested a couple of times and we let him go when he started getting really determined to bust free of Jbird's grip, or break a foreleg in the process. He got lots of praise, a big pile of catnip, and the funniest buzzcut ever given a poor fuzzy kitty. Don't tell him it looks awful. I'm rather proud that we managed to do it at all, and I'm pretty sure I'll get better at this the next few times around.

Ymirs got a trim, I got a fuzzy eye, and Jbird is rather grateful that his head is easier to buzz than a cat's torso.

And no, we're not posting a picture of it just yet. I have a few touch-ups to do and I want to spare the poor Ymirs the truth of his haircut.

Hello lovely ones,

I just might get back to this space, so update your linkages, help me dust off my lineages, and let's get moving!

Roya

testing, one-two-three