Manager of Time

I am sitting in examination room 3 waiting for the head of Cardiology to knock. It has already been a long day. One that I had detailed down to the minute in order to make it work. As is my strange way, I woke an hour early, 0332 to be precise, and rolled into position to count breathes, a minor form of meditation that I do every day. I will not allow myself the luxury of getting out of bed until ten consecutive breaths have been successfully counted (with limited mental distraction.) Down the stairs, the daily med ceremony with hot lemon water, a quick but thorough electric shave, cuppa joe and kit pack (I went with the black, red and white Kiwi kit), and then the ten minute commute to the club.

Where we unleashed Day 1, Set 1, of the dreaded Super Eight protocol. Should you be interested in the details, in instruction form, here is a post from a year ago on the subject. Regardless of the time and place, a set of these dogs are guaranteed to bite. 

Now the details pay off. We finished at exactly 0630, leaving me precious little time to shower, then get over to the house now under my charge as the owners vacation in Florida, walk and feed the dog and haul ass to the last stop on the bus route that offers a park and ride option. I ditch the truck and hop aboard gladly dropping two bucks in the kitty for parking and a ride to the ferry. Easy ride across Puget Sound and since I had the foresight to pack my traveler mug, coffee was a buck. Once on the Seattle side the trek uphill to the light rail station is less than ten minutes putting me at UW Medical center with five to spare. 

A short lobby wait and I am answering questions from the good doctor in as accurate and objective manner as I am able. Everything looks good he finally announces - but we should get another echo cardiogram, it has been five years since the last one. OK, I say, immediately wondering what the Medicare co-pay will set me back.

The return trip on and I am back on the light rail, criss-crossing traffic back to the ferry, a 30 minute walk in the rain to my truck, pick up the dog and run her back here, pour coffee and log on.

That my friends is the life of an Islander (with atrial fibrillation) who insists on health and fitness preventative maintenance and taking as many matters into his own hands as possible to keep the Q in the quality of life acronym as robust as possible. 

I might even have time for a 20 minute nap before heading out for the PowerBarn and the evening 2x20 set.