My Heart On Fire

 

Burning Bad Poetry in the Rain

I write a lot sometimes, when my emotions are working, which they haven't been for many years.  Even before my concussion in 2016, which is when they put me on the antidepressant (because serotonin helps the brain heal) I had quit feeling much.  Maybe after Tonka died.  Maybe when I settled down and sat still with the kids for too long.  I don't know.  I quit my antidepressant and the words are flowing again.  But sometimes the words suck!  I composed a pretty good poem while riding, but then I got off my donkey and drank a whole bottle of champagne, and it didn't look so good the next day.  Flames are good.  Cleansing.  Erasing evidence of mental crap. (I'm not a drinker, that was a special occasion.  Alcohol gives me headaches.)

I finally went to the doctor yesterday, a kind of rural urgent care that I thought gave better care than it does.  They had advised me to go to their "Ready Care" since there were no appointments available all week.  Turns out Ready Care can't do anything much.  My resting heart rate has been over 100, more like 115 and up, for a couple months, with short spurts of what is probably a-fib.  I have an appointment in April so I was waiting it out but it's getting pretty bad.  I spin and reel sometimes, and almost passed out twice Friday morning.  My quick EKG yesterday was ok but the doctor, if she was a doctor, was super concerned.  I go back in on Thursday, if I don't end up in the ER before then, and they'll probably run some bloodwork and put me on a 2 day monitor.  I'm sure it'll catch the a-fib.  There's a risk of throwing a clot and having a stroke.  I wouldn't mind dying too much, although I'd rather not, but I don't want to be mentally or physically limited any more than I already am.  I texted my ex-boss about it because my doctor's appointment interferes with our plans later this week, and she said, "What?  That can't be right, your heart?  You already have enough other health stuff going on!"  I know, right? But she's had this exact same thing and it was no big deal once they got her on beta blockers.  Apparently it's pretty common. Her daughter is an ER nurse and sees it a lot. So it was good to talk to her.

Also, I have not mentioned my biggest news of the decade!  My niece is pregnant!  I'm gonna be a grandma!  I'm so excited!  Ariel was my first baby.  My sister and I lived next door to each other when she was a baby, and I loved to spend as much time as I could with her.  She was always so much fun. Nine months after she was born, I had MY daughter, Katia.  Perfect timing.  Wonderful life.  But now, with my sister gone, I feel like Ariel's baby will by my grandbaby.  Especially since my kids may not have kids.  Ariel lives 2 hours away now but I can go stay up there on their farm for a bit, and drive up there whenever I want.  She's due in early September.  I inadvertently bought the baby its first toy.  Her husband's mom thinks she did, but I bought mine before baby was conceived.  We

let her keep thinking she bought the first one. Heck, I bought her kids a handmade rocking horse a couple years ago.  :)  She's always planned on having a bunch of kids, and fostering more once her kids are grown enough.  Their big farmhouse can handle it once they get it all renovated.  Farms are good for troubled kids.

Both of "my girls" came over for the day Saturday.  My nieces.  We went for a hike, John and I and the girls, and 3 dogs.  I left the road for a bit to follow a game trail, parallel to them, just far away that I couldn't make out their words but I could hear their easy laughter, all talking comfortably and giggling about something.  It was so peaceful, being in the company of family.

My day has gone on since I wrote that last, and a farrier visit has gone by.  We talked and had a bit of show and tell, and now I want a rifle like his.  Turns out they're hard to find, and expensive.  One day, maybe.  With his scabbard, it fits comfortably either behind or in front of his leg, and he says he's accurate at 100 yards without a special sight or scope.

I showed him the skull of my buck, all cleaned up and white, with its funny antlers, and he liked to think he was an old buck, still going strong and fighting off the younger bucks, with part of his funky antlers broken off.  I'll have to get a picture of it to post one day.  He's a hunter too, and well, anyway, we share a lot of interests.  Turns out we're both planning on making tapaderos soon, and shopping for leather.  His brother-in-law makes saddles (I'll have to get a pic of his saddle one day.  It's gorgeous - a using saddle) and suggested the best quality leather is from some place in the midwest.  I'll have to get the info. He liked my new holster and said he could make a couple silver conchos for me, with my initials.  His silversmith work is phenomenal.  I may have to take him up on it, even if the price of silver is high now.

I loaded Buster in the trailer tonight, and he was difficult again.  I think it's not fear, maybe he's trying to tell me I'm a crappy driver or he hasn't liked where he went the last couple times. Or maybe the trailer floor was slick again?  I cleaned really well and put down new shavings today. He will get in for food, which tells me whatever the problem is, it's not that bad.  We'll work through it.

I got interrupted a couple times and my computer decided to be a turd and insist on an update, so now it's late and I need to be done, for now.  Going riding with a new person I haven't met tomorrow!  I can't wait!