I do need this weekend.

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I have been out of the house and taken three road trips this last week. This in spite of my normal exhaustion features. The shortness of breath and added sleep difficulties, plus having to figure out how to wake at specific times, has meant I have been literally jamming it. It may be nothing to most people but these seemingly simple tasks have been akin to an average person figuring out how to run a couple of miles. Stretched, I think, would be the appropriate word.

The visit to the hospital today involved receiving an echo-cardiogram. I finally know two things. One, I actually do have a heart. I don't know if it is black as tar, however. The other, I do not believe I have an enlarged left ventricle. I could be wrong. I was eyeballing it. The tech would neither say nay or yeah, but a little sweet talk and a little misdirection, along with the ability to read people in a non-verbal manner, added to my belief that the heart (barring some minor odd defect it really does take a cardiologist to note) is the picture of health. Pulse was a little high at 110, give or take. But oddly my blood pressure was down at 160/99 or so, the first one. And, I was able to walk/jog the two flights of steps after an eighth of a mile jog from parking to the hospital main as well. I did have to stop and catch my breath, but only a few moments were needed. I hate giving in to my breathing issue without a fight.

I need rest. I need to relax, or do what is my equivalent. This weekend is sorely needed. I was going to write when I returned home, and did actually. But when tired my writing can... ramble. And so it did. I needed sleep so very badly that I crashed. I hooked up the sleep monitor, not sure if I would be sleeping short or long. I got around four hours. In any case, they will get whatever sleep I can give them, recording whatever sleep I can get. I simply never know how long.

I think I was awaken by a bat? The leathery sound of their wings is distinctive. While it is possible I only dreamed that, because the cats were going crazy trying to get into my room I suspect there was a real bat in there. How it got in, or out, is another matter altogether. I do have a sub-attic hatch, the front and back additions to my home having their own attics and my room being in one of those, the windows though screened were open causing air intake to shift the attic panel, so that may be the whole of it. Hmm, but the closet doors were closed, making a quick entrance and exit unlikely. Whatever. Oh, and I dreamed. I remember one of the dreams as being one I have had before. The other was new, at least as I recall. The others I could not remember. Now they are all fading.

So, back to health. My doctors should be very careful about handing out such dire diagnosis's. Most likely, this one is false. The liver, or kidneys, or whatever else it is, sure it is a problem. Related to blood pressure. But my breathing seems unrelated to heart damage. So, what is causing the breathing problem? My doctor sent hydrochlorothiazide, my old diuretic. Why not the new one I was put on? I also received two inhalers. Huh? They change my diuretic and send something about which we have not had a discussion, all without discussion? And yet I have not received the powder form potassium. Huh? Is it too much to expect some effort, professionalism, and cooperation? Bah! Edema can be fatal, of and by itself, with no attachment to the heart damage or involvement. I do have to stay on this, but... They were, most likely, wrong. As I said, tricks to force me to take what I can't take. Now you are beginning to understand why I so despise Zero care. You will get precisely what I am getting. Bureaucrats for doctors and when those bureaucrats decide something, regardless of evidence, that is what (and only what) you will receive in the way of treatment.

Bah!

If I get nothing done, other than recouping, this weekend I am good with that. I need some rest. If a few dishes become clean, if a load of laundry or two finds itself on the bright side, if some components become bullets... fine. But I am not going to advocate or push. I need a little time for nothingness, or at least to leave that open should it happen. No push, or rush, no shove. Next week it will begin again, until I know why I am not breathing right. I am going to have to push those doctors into finding out the truth or they will simply let me die of it while complaining about very possibly unrelated problems. Bah!!!!! Bah!!!!!

Later or good night.