Screaming in b-flat

So...I've been scheduled for this surgery...some pesky little operation to rebuild my foot...that will have me laid up for several weeks - "on your butt" my surgeon said. I took the news pleasantly. I having been scrambling around putting things in order for me to be out of commission for two weeks (i.e. making sure I have enough pastel paper and pastels to work on several projects and canvases and paints in good supply...oh yeah, and laundry done so Hubby has clean undies.

Then...I get...the...call. Abnormal ekg, blah, blah, blah...need release from primary care physician before we can, blah, blah, blah. Being a responsible person, I make the appointment with my pc. Yeah, yeah don't need to do the weight, temp and blood pressure thing. I'm just here for a doctor's note. You know, like to get out of gym class, only I want one that will let me INTO gym class. Breeze in, breeze out.

So...I've been scheduled to see this cardiologist. Apparently my pc doesn't just hand out random gym notes. I've gone to her for years. Always liked her alot. Never noticed this flaw in her character.

Surgery may be postponed which is a giant inconvenience all around. My friends have already hugged me and sent me on my way. Hubby has already planned to hang around the house to "take care of me." AND I've already arranged for Youngest Daughter to pack herself and newest grandbaby up and come protect me from Hubby's caretaking. The worst part is I was just going to make it recovery-wise to attend this workshop I've been waiting to attend for about a year. Abstract painting, which is a passion of mine. Two whole days. If they postpone the surgery, the only way I'll be at the workshop is if they hold it in my living room!

Driving home, all I wanted to do was scream. So I grabbed a Bon Jovi cd and screamed in b-flat. All the way home.