I'm sitting here in Room [redacted] of [redacted] Heart Hospital, to which Mom has returned from the rehab center. Seems her cardiologist thought her heart should have a more danceable rhythm and he wanted (additional) professional help. Plus he wanted to do some fancy imaging of the kind they keep the big machines for in hospitals
Naturally, by the time he reached this conclusion, the sun was over the yardarm and by the time Mom had been transported over and every last form had been filled out (in ink! In triplicate! Sign here, and let's see your card again...) , it was late afternoon. All the imaging pixies and cardioversionologolites had already packed it in for the day.
Probably just as well; these things go better after a good night's sleep. Which I hope she's getting. She's a light sleeper and is drifting in and out of dreamland now. I'll stay as late as I can and perhaps she'll get some decent zzz's.
She snores way better than I do. (I occasionally receive nasty notes from seismologists).
CHICAGO RAILROAD FAIR, 1948
23 hours ago