"What a sigh is there. The heart is sorely charged." (Macbeth)

.....Yesterday, I had two appointments at the VA Hospital in West Palm Beach. Firstly, I decided to put my scooter on the lift attached to my car and use it there because my cane would simply not do for the kind of walking distances that  would be required . Secondly, I also determined to leave early enough so that I might be fortunate to get a parking space, always in very short supply at that facility.  Additionally, I needed to leave early so as not to miss my first appointment; sometimes an accident on the Florida Tpk. slows traffic to a crawl.  I did get there in plenty of time for my 11 a.m. appointment for an ultra sound procedure on my kidneys which my urologist wanted to see.  I did finally get a space to park my car--but it was in a space that was not really a space--if you get my meaning.  I lowered the lift and drove off in the scooter, which to tell the truth, was really a helpful aid--and also a little fun.  When my appointment time came I went to the place where I thought the ultra sound would be given, but the nurse sent me to a different location.  Thus, I scooted over there and when I checked in, the nurse asked if I had drunk 32 ounces of water!  No! I told her; no one told me I had to drink 32 ounces of water!  She also added (almost joyfully) that I had to feel the need to pee "uncomfortable."  I remarked that it would not be possible to drive for 40 minutes in that condition.  At any rate, I made another appointment and I will find a way to drink 32 ounces of water.  If it was my son, Bobby, 32 ounces of beer would just be a start for him.    

.....It was now about 11:15 and my next appointment was in a different building the whole of which was for PTSD patients.  Since I wasn't scheduled there until 1p.m., I had plenty of time to have some breakfast.  In the main lobby a Starbuck's "cafe" always had a delicious apple turnover, so I went there, bought it and then scooted over to the main cafeteria where I purchased a cup of coffee.  (I will continue with this monologue because, after all, this is my "journal" and I would be remiss if I did not recount the events of this day.) When I finished the uneventful appointment at the PTSD clinic, I drove over to the Emergency Room.  For two or three days I had a painful pain in my chest and I promised RH+ that I would have it taken care of.  Of course, the first thing done there was to have me take off my shirt and shoes and get into a bed surrounded by a curtain.  And to make this account as painless as possible, they gave me an EKG, a blood test, and an X-Ray and found nothing that could be heart related.  However, the doctor there told me he would like to have me admitted so that he could conduct a stress test in the morning.  I told him that there was no way that I could stay in that hospital overnight so far away from Delray.  Therefore he had me sign a release; which I did.  I dressed, got out of there, got in my car and drove home.  

.....I still have that pain in my chest, but the consensus is that it is a possible muscle pull contracted while lifting heavy luggage into the car on the way to the airport when we went to NY.  Consequently, I may never go to New York again.