Have a heart

A couple of months ago, my best friend, Linda, 60 and a lifelong smoker, had really bad back pain and was really tired. In an unusual move, she actually went to the doctor, who tested her kidneys and stuff and decided she was fine except for being vitamin D deficient.

So ... you guessed it ... Tuesday night into Wednesday, she had a heart attack. At home. Didn't call anybody until it was time to go to work; she called in sick. Thirty minutes later, her boss, Gloria, was on her front porch and 30 more minutes later Linda was in the ER at Saint Mary's Regional Medical Center, Reno.

She had another heart attack this morning, which booted her from down the line in the angioplasty list to No. 1. They did all four entries into her heart and it went well, although this afternoon she's getting a blood platelet transfusion because her blood pressure, which was 160 over 101 when she reached the ER, dropped to 65 over 40-something and won't come back up.

I offered to come to the hospital and be really really annoying, but she declined.

Pardon me while I kick myself for not questioning the "you're fine" diagnosis. I know perfectly well that women's heart attacks present differently than do men's. I watched my grandmother have a heart attack, for Chaos' sake. And yet I let it slide with Linda.

Merde.

Meanwhile, I have the pleasure of feeding, etc. her zoo: three dogs and two cats. Two needy dogs and an almost-not-a-kitten Siamese (cross-eyed and hilarious to watch) who will finally stay in the same room with me, after spending most of her life hiding when I arrive. It took a couple months before I believed Linda when she claimed to have this cat. Linda took a picture.

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