Day 330.51, cold in Washington State

Man it was cold last night. I pre-heated the RV while watching the Huskies demolish the Coogs in the 107th Apple Cup (temps in the low teens) but that had little effect on the honeymoon suite. Tonight I plan on using the extension cord for the heater and placing the down bag atop the woolie. We'll see what happens.

Seems as it has been 50 days since the pacer install, I suppose I should blog an update. This is definitely not exciting news, nothing like Danny Shelton's flawless execution of a pre-snap barrel-roll and subsequent sack of the Coug QB, but as I have mentioned several times in the past, this represents a medical history log as well as the concise and cogent social commentary you have been following for the last 330 days.

Last week was painful. Nothing acute, just floating chest pains moving from left to right, with varying intensities all week. I wish I could say that A = B, be so far I am unable to pinpoint the cause and effect. We have tweaked the meds once again and I sent off a history of cardiac activity but evidently they can't pinpoint either.

So I try to stay hydrated, take in extra electrolytes  and protein, and eat well. Sleep has been compromised and my stress levels are up, but not enough (IMHO) to warrant the symptoms. Encouragingly, my heart rate for the week of indoor training has been very consistent and even. This could be the longest stretch in sinus rhythm since the initial incident almost four years ago. Most of the time I feel good, like right now after a two hour spin (and an Apple Cup W), but those chest pains are of a different nature. More hurt than the dull ache that has been a constant companion so long now it seems normal.

I could be adapting. Or not. I go in for a check up in two weeks, so we'll compare notes then and see of we can agree to a new tack. Maybe they'll tell me to drink more beer and get a girl friend. I am quite sure they would love to see me win the lottery.

I am so glad we are done with Thanksgiving and that Black Friday nonsense. Of course we now head into an even worse nightmare for an indigent anti-capitalist, the Christmas season. Let me be clear: I HATE Christmas carols. I make E. Scrooge look like an saint. God, the commercialism and hypocrisy! I can tolerate The Little Drummer Boy, but that is it. Gag me.

Sometimes I wish I was back on the farm, in the orchard, gleefully piloting my Massey-Ferguson down manicured rows of apples, pears and cherries. With the daily, and mostly pleasant routine of bringing down the mail from the road.

The only similarities between then and now, Eastern Washington and Western, is that it is very cold on the last day of November in each.

It didn't seem to bother the Dawgs last night so I will try my best to emulate their toughness. Woof!