If there are no Ambulances or Helocoptors...It's a good day

I've been a bit concerned about Mac lately. He's not up to sparring speed. Usually so fast with the humorous comeback or stinging retort, he's been letting me get the best of him just a little too much lately. He seemed tired. And pale. Of course being the loving wife I set him up. I mean, I set up an appointment with Dr. Moyd. We love our doctor because he is like an old fashioned doctor of a bygone era. He does not treat us like sides of beef to prod and poke, first he listens. He listens with his ears, then he listens with his stethoscope. Of course I have to poke and prod Mac to get him to tell our wonderous Doc Moyd exactly what is bothering him. So we go in and Doc Moyd's little nurse sticks one of those oxygen monitoring gizmo's onto his finger first thing. And gets a little shocky when the reading is 85. Had I been in the room at the time, I would have gone more than a little shocky, I'd have been having a screaming mimi fit. (Not you, Mima) . That's nigh onto intubation level. Doc Moyd, being a trifle concerned, too (tho not on the levels that Lisa, his nurse, and I were.) He ordered all kinds of blood tests, listened to heart and lungs, declared said lungs clear (no wheezing) and set him up with an appointment with his Cardiologist and his Gastroenterologist. Because other than the fact that he feels tired, run down (like, by a truck) and gets shortness of breath, he declares he feels fine. Well fine, you're still going to see this fullhouse of doctors and then we'll see what we shall see. So last week we saw the Gastro man. He says that while liver enzymes are up a bit, well, not so much to worry about, but while you're here how about setting up an appointment for your colonoscopy? Then it's off to Dr. Grainger, our angel of a Cardiologist who upon noting that his blood pressure was a bit high decides that he is going to have his stress test a couple of months early. Just to get it out of the way, you understand. That was yesterday. My darling Mac told me in no uncertain terms that he was not having anything run up him, over him or in him. He'd have the stupid stress test, but the first person to mention angioplasty, stents or pacemakers would get a flat no. (Can I get an Amen?) I'm nodding, yes dear, of course dear all the time working it out in my head how I was going to work around that problem. So today we went for the stress test. While he was busy on the treadmill and getting pictures done and ultrasounds of his carotids, I went to Lowe's. It was just across the street from Dr. Grainger's place so I figured that if I heard any helocoptors approaching the pad, or Ambulance sirens headed our way, I could get back in a hurry. You see, both of us have had the helocoptor/ambulance experience...both times the weather was too bad for the coptor's to fly (thank you God, I knew you'd come through) but the ambulances worked just fine. So I get back to the clinic and no coptors, no ambulances. Mac is sitting in the waiting room, waiting for one more round of pictures before we can head home. Noting that I had been to Lowes, and knowing that I prefer it to WalMart's, he casually mentioned that maybe he should go out and look in the bed of the truck first, thinking it might make a difference in his stress test. (Hmm, he's beginning to sound like his old self). I patted his hand, telling him "no no honey, I don't think you want to do that. It'll just be my little surprise." It's now 11:30 pm. No coptors, no ambulances ever made an appearance. No Doctors ever poked a head out saying "might I have a word?" So...the man's got the heart of a lion. A lion who needs a nap .