Courtney has since married David Arquette, which means that a whole new generation of freaky looking people with fabulous breasts will be born. I'd stay with the singer, myself. "Let's see -- the voice of a saddened generation, or the guy who managed to lower the tone of 1-800-CALL-ATT commercials. Who would I choose...."

Not that I will ever meet Courtney Cox Arquette or the Counting Crows. And not that it's germaine.

I'm tired.

There aren't that many drugs to take, but there's only so many days you can pop a small pharmacy into your mouth in the morning (with an evening retake on it) before you start getting bloody sick of the taste of medicine. What's more, I'm now paranoid to take analgesics or the like, so if I have a headache now I suffer through it. Better that than a harmful drug interation or a reinforcement.

Some things I know are off. With anti-coagulants now officially in my life, my one aspirin a day has morphed into no aspirin ever, lest the blood thinning get too pronounced. I'm also supposed to "be careful brushing my teeth" and "shave with an electric" and the like, because... well, I've induced hemophilia as a part of my regimine. Oh, I'm also not supposed to get alarmed if my urine turns red. This is normal.

Like Hell it's normal.

So, there was no Friday post or weekend post. Thank timing for that. I had a good Doctor's appointment on Friday. We upped some of my dosages, and Doctor Fleet thought I should see a Cardiologist as soon as possible. So, his staff agreed to call the one we decided on (a Doctor Wight, which is a creepy name for a heart specialist) and set up an appointment.

One of the criteria was the Cardiologist should be based out of Portland, Maine. Close to my folks, in case I needed procedures (and I would need procedures, I promise). So, I go home Thursday night, and I relax previous to my working my evening Dorm Duty....

I get a call. It's my Doctor's appointment Secretary, Elaine. She says she has an appointment for me. The next day. At nine thirty in the morning.

So, now I'm not going into work at all on Friday. And after dorm duty, I drive home to Maine, where I'd sleep the night and have a relaxed morning. You get nervous going to a new doctor, especially when the news isn't great going in. And I wanted to see my folks again. They were agreeable. I let Mason know to tell the office the next day.

That was the start of my busy weekend. I thought the consult would take maybe an hourt. As it worked, it took more like two and a half hours. Doctor Wight is very competant and pleasant, and the EKG was done and all the fun parts of being at the Doctor's office.

It was easier having Dad there, of course. He kept me relaxed when I was nervous. And then the exam was over, and we talked about stuff. About the seriousness of the situation. (Let's just say my going to the doctor when I did was a much better idea than I knew.)

He recommended Coreg, which is a brand name of a kind of Beta Blocker. You have to take it in miniscule amounts to start, and build it up, because the Betas your blocking, while they're flogging your heart, are also keeping it going. You need to wean off them. Trust me on this. And we decided I needed to do a Nuclear resonance test (Cardiolite, it's called), both a stress test (next Wednesday the 22nd) and a relaxed test (on the 23rd.)

For the relaxed test, I need to eat fatty food. It helps the Cardiolite work. Go figure.

I agreed to this, and Doctor Wight called Doctor George. The two were in absolute agreement, which is good. George was very nervous I'd get a cardiologist with very different opinions on the treatment. When I told Doctor Wight about my brother in law, he was nervous over the same thing. But, they seem to be on a par with one another. So, good enough.

More drugs. More tests. If the Cardiolite is perfectly clean, I'll avoid Cardiac Catheritization. But there's at best a 20% chance of that. Then more tests. More drugs.

It's so tiring. I'll tell you about being a research subject and the weekend with Frank tomorrow. I'm tired now.