First, daytime TV is horrible.
Second, I dragged my aging butt to the medical imaging facility yesterday morning and was subjected to a ten minute meeting with an MRI machine.
Side note: the power geek side of me would LOVE to play with the innards of one of these things.
The MRI scan was to determine a ‘calcium score’ that should indicate the status of the plumbing feeding blood to my heart.
You get a numerical score.
Mine is 560, a number significant enough to get me a consult with a cardiologist before I’m cleared for the back surgery that was my initial complaint.
In the meantime, I am careful about the pain meds. I find that one int he morning knocks the edges off things until I get the domestic functions necessary to maintain my household, and another at bedtime lets me sleep without writhing in agony when I unconsciously try to turn over in the night.
and I’m waiting on the call from the cardiologist to see what happens next.



