I left my house yesterday morning at approximately 9:45 to make it to my 10:45 appointment with the heart guy. At 9:53, a police offer pulled out of a subdivision to follow me with his lights on. Because there was no lane in which to pull over yet a gas station was less than a block away, I drove to the gas station. As I drove to the station (about a 20 second drive), the police officer turned on his siren to let everyone in the neighborhood know that the woman in the Hyundai Sonata was raising some law breaking hell.
Officer: I pulled you over because you were going 48 in a 35, and I’m also charging you with failure to yield to an emergency vehicle.
Me: I’m so sorry. I didn’t see an emergency vehicle!
Officer: The emergency vehicle is me. When an officer has his lights on, you need to pull over immediately.
Me (to myself): But there was no place to pull over, and the QT is right here! We all stayed safe this way!
Me (out loud): Yikes. Sorry.
Please know that I have never received a speeding ticket. Ever. I once received a warning for pulling out of a (frozen yogurt joint) parking lot without my headlights on. I once received a ticket for parking on the wrong side of a residential street. BUT, never a speeding ticket.
SO, anyway. He decided to let me off with a warning on the whole “You drove to QT” thing, but the speeding? I wasn’t charming enough to get out of that. (Because I was speeding. And listening to Fiona Apple. But not texting. Perhaps singing.)
From the QT parking lot, I drove to the doctor’s office, where my strips were pulled and read.
Doctor: I think it’s safe to tell you that you’re going to live.
Me: Best news ever. Any idea what I should do to prevent the flutters?
Doctor: It might be related to caffeine. It might be related to hormones. It might be related to stress. We know PVCs exist, but we don’t really know why. If they start up again and they’re driving you crazy, I’ll give you a prescription for a beta blocker. Please know that there’s a good chance that the beta blocker won’t work.
Me: I’m good with maybes.
In about an hour, I’ll be getting an echocardiogram to make sure my heart is shaped like a fist and not like the hearts you see in cartoons. If all goes well (and it will, because it will), I’ll be rushing home (while not exceeding the speed limit, obviously) because I need to clean up a bit for the dozen Girl Scouts who are coming over this evening to listen to me talk about energy conservation. (I take lots of naps, which means I’m a bit of an expert on this topic.)
Anyway, when I’m done telling them that they should turn out the lights when they leave a room, I’ll show them how to make a candle out of a jar and some olive oil.
When they leave? I’ll crash on the couch with my current no-brain knitting project.