I go away for a bit, and they move all the furniture.
There are two kinds of cardiologists: plumbers and electricians. Plumbers do stents, valve jobs, etc. Electricians do pacemakers.I had a stress test with the plumber, and passed it. Two weeks later I get a call for the electrician cardio minions saying cryptically, "there was something 'anomalous' in the last report your pacemaker transmitted, we need you to come in.". Medtronic, who makes the pacemaker/defib I have, had sent me a letter months ago saying there was a prob with the leads, but not to fret Mr. RR as yours is a two lead unit, and while not swell, was not a real problem. This time there was a problem. The heightened impedance meant that a lead was fractured, or was going to fracture. Action must be taken. But we can't do it where it was originally done, we need a better equipped facility in Northern Virginia, or Richmond. A full blown operating theater because what we are going to do, Mr. RR, is use a laser to cut the leads and any calcification off the surface of your heart, pop in new leads, and Bob's yer uncle. Uhuh. That's what they did. I had never had 'real' anesthesia, and that is where the problems cropped up. I was sick for days from it. Then the swelling was too much on the site, according to the nursepracticioner, and various medical personnel had to visit me to poke and prod it. This passed, and all is back to ha,ha normal now.
So here I are, whutinhell am I going to write about? Can't seem to get going on anything. Read Robert Hughes' Rome , I enjoyed it. I had never read any of his books before, and had seen only brief segments of his program on modern art.Hughes obviously loves Rome, and is dismayed to see what traffic and tourism has done to the city.I'm reading a new translation of Magic Mountain; it flows more smoothly than the old one which I have read several times; heck, this is the second time I have read this translation. Why do I do that, return to titles I've read several times?
On a sadder note, I read in The Guardian the other day of the death of Paul Fussell, a critic whose work I enjoy.I've read his Great War and Modern Memory and his Abroad several times.Those two books are on my top forty list, highly recommended. His cogent cant cutting voice will be missed.
Missus and I have another trip planned. I am leery of it, but missus wanted to go, so I go. It is a guided tour of English gardens and we will be there just before the Olympics start. Swell. A while ago, my sister in law,the arch conservative who surpasses the general conservative notion of believing coming out of the trees was a bad idea,does not believe we came out of the trees. She enjoys baiting me on various and sundry topics, while I strive to not rise to the bait. This time she asked, "Are you top dog in the house, RR"? I saw where this was going, omysistersandbrothers. "Nah", sez I, "I'm the junkyard dog.". And I am . If missus wants to go to England with all those athletic supporters and people painted in their national colors running around loose, we'll go. I'll find a nice quiet local, and sample some good English beer. We're going to stay in Cheltenham a few nights, Holst's house is there, and England has a good transportation system.So we shall see what we shall see.
The Education of Brett the Robot
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